P.I.T.A. (L.A. Liaisons #3)(10)

"I don't know why I hang out with you guys," I said, tucking a towel under my arm. "Let's pretend this conversation never happened."

As I made my way around the pool, I heard Quinn call out, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Congratulations, Mrs. Richard Dawson. Make sure to tell us where you guys register."

Middle. Fucking. Finger.





CHAPTER FIVE

A Fungus You Can't Escape





I'M SURE YOU'RE sitting there waiting for me to tell you that I changed my mind about this whole marriage thing. That, yes, giving Dawson a chance to grow on me like a fungus sounded like the most amazing plan ever, and maybe this was a happy accident that would end in an HEA after all. 

That would be a hell no.

Instead, I sat across from my overpriced lawyer at my oversized oak dining table, tapping my pen on the annulment papers that sat in front of me.

I glanced at the empty seat beside me and had to bite my tongue to keep from cursing. Never mind that Dawson was half an hour late-he was also not answering his phone. If he didn't show up, I'd make sure his balls were served on a silver platter at my parents' next dinner party.

I plastered on a fake smile for the woman sitting across from me. She was the no-nonsense type, which was exactly the reason I'd hired her, but I hadn't expected Dawson to drop the ball and make me look incompetent in front of her. Ruth Thomas cleared her throat, her eyes on my pen, and I set it down before she felt the need to throw a dagger at me.

"I'm sure he'll be here any minute," I said.

"Of course," she replied, but the look on her face said, It's your dime.

Damn right it was. Another half-hour and I might not be able to afford to get an annulment. Okay, slight exaggeration, but come on, Dawson.

The chimes went off through the house, signaling someone was at the front door, breaking up the dead silence that was about to drive me insane.

"Excuse me," I said, pushing away from the table. I muttered charming obscenities about the many ways I planned to torture Dawson when I got him alone, as my heels click-clacked across the floor. The girls might have thought this marriage thing was salvageable, but the more I'd thought about it-and the longer I'd had to wait this morning-the more I knew that the old saying was true: what happens in Vegas should sure the hell stay in Vegas.

Crossing the entryway, I smoothed down the front of my tailored jacket, not wanting to look in any way flustered in front of the man I'd be cutting myself away from in the next ten minutes. I'd decided to dress the part of a grown-up today, one who made responsible decisions that didn't include marriages made from drunken debauchery. As I threw open the front door, it was clear Dawson hadn't had the same idea.

His hair was down today, blond locks that fell to his shoulders, and he wore distressed jeans and a simple black shirt that he'd jazzed up with a couple of his many necklaces. When he caught me giving him the once-over, he arched his eyebrow.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

"Do you not own anything that doesn't look like you just came from Hot Topic?"

"Good morning to you, too, love." He stepped inside, and his hand went to my waist as his lips came for mine. I turned my head in time for his aim to hit my cheek, and then I pushed him away, scowling.

"You owe me eight hundred bucks for keeping my lawyer waiting," I said.

"You know what traffic's like this time of day."

"Traffic? You live down the street."

When he gave me a grin that I supposed he expected to serve as an apology, I groaned and headed back to the dining room. I only managed a couple of steps, though, because Dawson grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to him.

"Paige," he said, rubbing his thumb against the inside of my arm in a gentle sweep.

"What are you doing?" I said, and then held up my free hand to glance at my nonexistent watch. "It's going to be nine hundred if you don't let go in the next five seconds."

"Pita." His voice was soft and low this time, bringing my attention back to him. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

I looked at him with wary eyes. "Why are you asking me that?"



       
         
       
        

"It's just a question. I thought I'd give you one last chance to back out." The words were casual, but the meaning behind them seemed like anything but.

"You're not hoping I changed my mind, are you?" I asked.

He kept his gaze on mine and gave me a soft smile. "Paige Dawson is less of a mouthful than Paige Traynor-Ashcroft, don't you think?"

I didn't answer right away, too taken aback by the turn in conversation. He couldn't possibly want to stay married … could he? No. No, that was too mind-boggling to even think about, and I didn't have time for that luxury. My lawyer was waiting.

Straightening my shoulders, I said, "You want to know if I'm sure I want to do this, and the answer is of course I do. You and I both know this was a mistake. Let's fix it and move on already."

His hazel eyes searched mine, as if trying to find the lie or some indication that I was at all hesitant about what I said, and he must have found my truth there, because he let go of my wrist. "Okay."

"Okay." I took a step back and pushed down the unsettled feeling burrowing in the pit of my stomach. Turning on my heel, I wiped my sweaty palms on my pantsuit and headed back to the dining room, leaving Dawson to follow after me.

"All right, he's here. Let's get this show on the road," I said, taking my seat as Dawson entered and pulled out the chair to my right.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, sitting down. "Traffic."

That would always be the universal excuse when you were late, no matter if it was the truth or not. It was the only thing that would get you out of anything. Late for a job interview? The traffic on Wilshire was terrible. Been outside watching your blind date and debating whether you should go inside or not? So sorry to keep you waiting. I thought I'd never get off the freeway.

Case in point:

"Understandable," Ms. Thomas said. "The 101 was atrocious this morning."

Aaaand there you go.

I picked up my pen and flipped to the first page of the paperwork. "I won't hold you two up, then. Can you let us know where to sign and we'll-"

The chimes for the front door sounded again, and I threw down my pen.

Who the hell is that?

"Nobody go anywhere," I said, and then made my way down to the foyer, where-

My father had let himself in and was standing in the entryway, looking perfectly polished in a suit that cost more than most people's first cars. When I stopped in my tracks, he gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Hello, Paige."

"What are you doing here?"

"It's good to see you too," he said, pushing the door shut behind him. 

Blinking away my surprise, I moved toward him to usher him back out. "Excuse me, I didn't invite you in."

"No? Not even to apologize for your behavior over the weekend?"

"My behavior?" I scoffed. "I'm definitely not apologizing for that. You can exit the way you came."

"Oh, I think I'll stick around. That's Dawson's car out front, is it not?" Then, as Dawson came around the corner, he said, "Ah, here he is. I'm not too late, am I?"

"Too late for what?" I asked.

"You don't think my only daughter could get married and I wouldn't find out about it, do you?"

With hitched breath, I whipped around to face Dawson. "You told my fucking father?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why is he here?" I said.

"He," my father said, picking invisible lint off his sleeve, "is here to make sure everything gets taken care of."

My brows shot up. "Wow. I'm not sure why you felt the need to come oversee things, since you've never cared before, but at least we can agree that this unfortunate … situation needs to be taken care of, stat. Now, if you'll excuse me, I owe my lawyer the title to my Tahoe by now."

I swept out of the room and then retook my seat at the table.

"I apologize for the delay, but it seems we have an audience," I said, picking my pen back up. "Where were we?"

"We're nowhere," my father said from behind me, snatching the papers in front of me and ripping them in half.

My eyeballs almost fell out of my fucking head.

"Have you gone mad?" I said, leaping to my feet so fast that my chair fell backward onto the floor.

"On the contrary, dear daughter, I'm completely sane. You, on the other hand, seem to need some parental guidance, and I'm here to offer it."

"You can take your offer and-" I said before Dawson shot up out of his chair, and his hand went over my mouth.

"Let's all take it easy," Dawson said, scooting his chair behind my ass and forcing me to sit down before slowly removing his hand.

"Take it easy?" I snapped, and then pointed at my father. "You can't come waltzing into someone else's house uninvited, and you sure as hell can't go ripping up legal documents."

"I can if they're deemed unnecessary."

"Uh, newsflash: they are very necessary. Don't you understand? I disgraced the family name by getting married in a drive-thru ceremony that I can't remember to a guy I haven't said more than two nice words to since I was twenty."