Troy shook his head. “No, it’s more important than food. It’s—”
“Atmosphere and service,” she interjected nervously. Her heart was pounding. She couldn’t let him say this. She didn’t know why, but it would ruin everything.
His eyebrows drew together as he viewed her quizzically. “No. This is one of those life-changing—” He broke off and swore. “He’s here early. I wanted to prepare you.”
“Prepare me?” she asked, perplexed.
Troy swore again. “Your father’s coming.”
Senada gaped at him. “My father?”
“Yeah.” He lowered his voice. “And your, uh, stepmother.”
Her stomach felt like lead. She didn’t know whether to cry in relief or disappointment. She shook her head. “I—”
“Heads up,” he said. “They’re right behind you.” Troy stood and extended his hand.
“How are you, Rex? And Sheree?”
Senada turned her head and felt the room go out of focus. “Daddy,” she murmured, then quickly corrected herself and nodded. “Rex. Sheree.” She gave Troy a quick glare of displeasure. “What a surprise.”
“Surprise?” Rex bellowed. “Pendleton here told me you wanted to see me.”
“Of course she does,” Troy interjected. “She’s just as excited about getting together with you as you were when I called.”
Sheree gave a little wince. “How nice. Good evening. Shall we all sit down?”
“Sure, honey,” Rex said, helping his wife into a seat. “Did I hear something about you being a farmer from Tennessee?” he asked Troy. “Have you thought about expanding with livestock?”
Senada shut off her listening device and looked over her new stepmother. Troy and Rex went on and on with ranch talk while Senada studied the woman who’d finally captured Rex.
“You gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to wait forever?” Rex asked her. “Are you ignoring me, Missy, or do you have fuzz in your ears?”
Senada glanced up at him and gave a little shake of her head. “Pardon me, I was just wondering if I’m older than Sheree or not.”
Dead silence followed.
Out of the corner of her eye, Senada caught Troy’s sigh.
Her father glowered at her. “Now see here, young lady, you—”
Sheree cleared her throat and put her hand over Rex’s. “I’m thirty-three.”
Senada nodded. “Oh. Not quite twenty years younger than Dad.”
Troy groaned. “I need some air,” he said, standing. He dragged Senada to her feet. “She does too. Excuse us.”
She frowned at him. “I don’t want—”
“Yes,” he insisted. “You do.”
With a firm hand, he led her to the patio in the back of the restaurant. As soon as they walked through the archway, he turned toward her. “Why are you being such a witch?”
Sin looked at him in surprise. “I haven’t said hardly anything.”
Troy shoved his hands in his pockets and shot her a look of disbelief. “You’re making digs about the difference between Sheree’s and your father’s ages.”
“I thought it was a valid question,” she said innocently. “Especially if I’m supposed to call her Mom.”
Troy looked up at the ceiling as if he were searching for help. “Oh, Lord.”
Sin stepped directly in front of him. “I think I’ve been extremely reasonable. I didn’t tell my father he is still the most insensitive person ever to walk the earth. I didn’t ask if he’d knocked up his pretty young wife before the wedding. And I didn’t tell you to go to hell for pulling this rotten trick on me.”
Troy took a deep breath, and Sin could practically feel him count to ten. “Listen,” he said through gritted teeth. “This may be difficult for you to comprehend, since you’re so determined to be Ms. Independence until the day you die. But meeting your father tonight and attempting to be nice is for your own good. You don’t have any other relatives, Sin. Don’t you think you should make a little effort with the one you have?”
She resented his interference. It was presumptuous for him to assume he knew what was best for her. Presumptuous, controlling, domineering. She looked at him darkly, thinking she could just walk out and leave him holding the bag. The bag being her father. Troy almost deserved the punishment of her father’s company for the next two hours without her to take the heat. Almost. Despite her irritation with him, she suspected he was right. God, how she hated that.
“Quit pouting,” he told her.