My smile slipping, I clutch the card and promise to call, then turn and lose myself in the crowd, walking blindly through colors and flashes of gems and glittering gowns.
Can anyone change? Can I change? Mary obviously doesn’t believe it. She didn’t think our parents could, so she decided to change everything and everyone around her, instead.
A coward, Dad had called Mary. A disappointment. A fiasco.
Mary says she’s happy.
“Tessa,” my dad’s voice booms, and I flinch as he steps in my path, tall and imposing in his expensive suit, his face impassive. His hand encircles my wrist and yanks me forward, a tiny jerk that jars my bones and makes me yelp. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing.” I tug on my hand, and he lets go. My wrist throbs. “I was looking for you.”
His gaze is dark and disapproving. “Took you a long time,” he mutters. “It’s not that hard. Only you would take forever to locate me.”
“I ran into Mr. Walker,” I say and realize I’m trying to find excuses, when in fact I don’t have to excuse myself to him. “He said—”
“We’re late because of you,” he hisses, giving me no chance to say anything else, and starts walking.
I stare at his back, my breathing coming too fast. My feet start moving without any conscious thought.
“Wait!” I call as I totter after him. Why can’t I break his hold on me? I’m not a little kid anymore. “Just slow down. Who are we meeting?”
He doesn’t reply, maybe doesn’t even hear me, as he purposefully opens a path in the crowd. Where is my mom? Weren’t they supposed to come here together?
We’re heading toward one of the many bars set up around the roofed terrace. Dad finally slows down, scanning the people around us, and this gives me a chance to catch up. I stop by his side, panting.
“Who,” I begin, and have to stop and breathe in again, “are you looking for? The Jensons?”
“No, not them.” He straightens his silken tie. “They’re peanuts, not important in the grand scheme of things.”
I frown. “Not important? I thought you wanted to make a deal with them.”
“The Jensons are bankrupt.”
Confusion sweeps over me. “But this gala…?”
“Ah, there they are.” My father motions for me to follow and starts moving again.
The Jensons? By now I’m so confused, I just go with the flow. If the Jensons are bankrupt, how the heck did they finance such an event? Was bankruptcy the reason they canceled it at first? But then how did they get the money to set it up anyway? And what for?
My father stops, and I step sideways, not to crash into him. Suddenly his hand grips my wrist again, and I jerk it, trying to free it. What is he doing? In front of everyone…
“Well, well. Look who’s here,” a male voice drawls, and the fine hairs on my arms stand up like needles.
I lift my gaze, my head feeling heavy, my whole body sluggish as if moving through water.
My vision blurs. It can’t be. It can’t frigging be.
Can’t be Sean Anholt, leering at me, looking pleased with himself. His dark hair is cut short, his green eyes are bright, and he looks every bit the beautiful monster that he is.
“Here is Tessa, as I promised,” my father is saying.
As he promised? What the hell? “What are you doing, Dad? Let me go.”
I tug again on his hold to free my hand, but he’s holding on so tight it hurts.
“So this is little Tessa,” another male voice says, so similar to Sean’s, and I turn to see a rail-thin, middle-aged man. He’s standing so close to Sean, the similarities are obvious.
For a moment, the shock takes my mind off Sean. This is his father, tycoon David Anholt. What is he doing in little Madison? Why isn’t he in Chicago? What’s going on?
He smirks at my stunned expression. “Sean has told me all about you. Feisty, aren’t you? I want the best for my boy, and I expect you to treat him right.”
My gaze snaps to Sean, whose eyes are hooded. His grin makes my stomach turn.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I say, my voice shaking. “Never was.”
“Really? Sean told me that misunderstanding was cleared up,” David Anholt says, and my dad nods gravely.
Misunderstanding?
My knees feel weak. “No.”
“Tessa.” My dad pulls me forward, grinding the bones in my wrist. “Go talk with Sean and have fun. His father and I have some things we need to discuss.”
Holy crap. He’s handing me over, just like that, to my worst nightmare.
I dig my heels in, but it’s hard with nine-inch stilettos. I glance at Dad, and he smiles easily, the expression warm and encouraging.