AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Please wait.” I dart a quick look to my dad. The three of them are still deep in conversation, and I wish like hell I could get closer to hear, but there’s no way I can do that now.
I’m surprised when the man in front of me hooks a finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. “What are you up to?”
“Nothing.” It comes out as a whisper, but he still hears me over the chattering crowd around us and the soft classical music.
I can tell he doesn’t believe me. He looks like a man who doesn’t trust easily, and I can’t help but wonder who he is and what the hell he’s doing here. I’ve never seen him before, and he doesn’t strike me as someone who would want to mingle with these political douchebags. For all I know, he could be one of them, but something tells me he’s not.
He leans closer, still keeping his finger hooked under my jaw. “Tell me, or I’m walking over there right now.”
“Wait a minute, and I’ll make sure you’re sitting next to the mayor during dinner.”
He arches his dark brow again. “And how are you going to manage that?”
“I’ll give you my spot.”
It’s hard to think when he’s this close, and when he steps back up to his full height and drops his hand, I’m equal parts relieved and disappointed. He studies me again with those vivid green eyes before his lips curl up in a slight smirk.
“You’re his daughter,” he says.
Before I can say anything, I hear my mom’s voice and an annoyed groan escapes before I can stop it. The man hears it but doesn’t comment. When my mom walks over, I see him morph into the kind of man I hate, the schmoozing, let-me-kiss-your-ass-Mr.-and-Mrs.-Marston kind of guy. What a disappointment.
“Emily, introduce me to your handsome gentleman friend,” my mom says, eyeing him in a way that makes every part of me cringe.
I’m just about to say I don’t know him and walk off when the man holds out his large hand to my mom. Giving her a big smile, he says, “I’m Roman Melnikov. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Marston.”
My mom holds his hand for way longer than necessary and, I swear to god, bats her eyes at him. “Call me Angela.”
“Okay,” I say, unable to hold back anymore. “Well, I’m going to go find some more champagne.”
I start to walk off, but Roman grabs me by the waist and pulls me back to him while using his other hand to wave a waiter over. Yes, clearly this is a man who’s used to getting what he wants. He knows I’m about to ask what the hell is going on, so he grabs a champagne flute and holds it out to me while telling my mom, “Emily and I were just getting acquainted.”
My mom’s eyes dart to where his hand is still resting on my waist, and I swear I can hear the goddamn wedding bells ringing in her head. She went from flirty cougar to mother-of-the-bride in record time. I give her a subtle head shake to try and deter this line of thinking, but I can tell it’s a lost cause. To make matters worse, she leans over and waves a hand at my dad.
“Christopher, honey, come over here for a second.”
I turn my head just in time to see the three men look over and make their way towards us. So much for remaining invisible and eavesdropping. I try to step aside, freeing myself from his grip, but he tightens his fingers, and when I look up at him, he gives me a wink.
Oh, this asshole is in for a rude awakening. If he thinks I’m an easy in to my dad, he’s got another thing coming. I plaster on a smile that not even my mom could find fault in, because there’s no way in hell I’m getting out of the next few minutes without causing a major scene. I take a breath and then down my champagne, ignoring the soft laugh Roman gives.
“Honey,” my mom says, cooing at my dad in a sugary sweet voice that’s like nails on a chalkboard. I know how these two act once the guests have gone, and sugary is the last word I’d use to describe it. “This is Roman Melnikov, Emily’s friend.”
“Nice to meet you, Roman,” my dad says. He shakes his hand and adds, “I saw your name on the list, young man, and I’m glad I’m getting to meet you. I wanted to thank you for your generous donation.”
“You’re very welcome, Mayor Marston.”
My dad feigns modesty. “Call me Chris.” He points to the men on his left. “These are Representatives Strickland and Johnson.”
Representative Johnson turns his slimy attention to me. “Emily, how nice to see you again.” His smile grows as he runs his eyes over me, not caring in the slightest that Roman still has a tight grip on me. “You’re looking beautiful tonight.”
“Thanks, Representative Johnson,” I manage to spit out.
“Call me Steve, honey,” he says, and I’m surprised to feel Roman’s grip tighten on me as he scoots me a little closer.
Undeterred, Steve nods towards the dance floor that’s been set up just for tonight. Most of the guests are standing around, drinking and eating hors d’oeuvres, but there are a few couples dancing and enjoying themselves.
“Care to dance, sweetheart?” Steve asks, making me wish I had more alcohol.
Before I can come up with an excuse, Roman cuts in. “I’m afraid she’s already promised this one to me.”
