Out of Time (Out of Line #2)(50)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

Dad turned to me and smiled wide, his blue eyes lighting up. He smoothed his graying hair and held his hands out to me. “Ah, it’s my princess. Don’t you look beautiful?”

“Thanks, Dad.” I walked over to him, and he grabbed my fingers, squeezing them tight. “You look wonderful, too, of course.”

He hugged me and kissed my forehead. His familiar cologne washed over me, and I hugged him, closing my eyes as I rested against his chest. “Thanks, princess.”

“Hugh.” I heard heels come up behind me, and Mom said, “Watch the dress, you’ll wrinkle it.”

I looked up at Dad, rolled my eyes—which made him laugh—and turned to Mom. She headed toward us, Tinkerbell at her heels. Even the dog had dressed up for the occasion. She wore a red satin bow around her neck. “Well, you both look pretty. Very festive.”

Mom wore a deep crimson dress that flowed to the floor in elegant swirls, and diamonds in her ears that would probably make the Queen of England jealous. She did a little twirl, her heels clacking as she did so, and leaned forward to kiss my cheek.

“So do you, dear,” Mom said, smoothing her dress, even though it was flawless. Tinkerbell shot between her legs, tongue hanging out in excitement. “The first guests should be arriving soon. The house staff and guards are already drinking champagne in the dining room.”

“Should I go in there with them so they’re not alone?”

Mom shook her head. “No. You should wait here and greet our guests.”

“Did you tell her that the Stapleton boy is coming tonight, Margie?” Dad nudged me with his elbow. “That’s an excellent family if I do say so myself. Their son, Riley, is going to school in San Francisco.”

Now I knew why I recognized that freaking name. That’s the guy mom had been trying to marry me off to. No wonder she’d been so nervous when she mentioned their name yesterday. This was a setup. A date of sorts.

I turned to Mom and smiled, even though it probably looked more feral than kind. Her cheeks were flushed. “Oh, how lovely. I can’t wait.”

Dad patted my arm. “You’ll like him. He has the same beliefs as us.”

Then I probably wouldn’t get along with him. But I didn’t say that. “I can’t wait,” I said, smiling so wide it hurt my cheeks.

Laughter came from the dining room, and more joined in. The house staff and guards sounded like they were having a blast. I wanted to go in there with them and sneak a drink, but I forced myself to stand still. To play the part of dutiful daughter.

Soon enough they would see it was all an act. I loved them, and I was their daughter, but I wouldn’t be their pawn. Not anymore. I pasted a smile on when the doorbell rang. Time to play the part.

“They’re here,” Mom said, clapping her hands excitedly.

“I’ll open it, you two stand there.” Dad headed for the door, his steps wide and sure. “Ready, girls?”

“Ready,” Mom said.

They were acting like this was some huge thing, but we were standing here in dresses and heels like idiots. Even Tinkerbell stood at attention, for the love of God. This is why I’d never be like my mother. I felt like an idiot—and rightly so. I mean, why were we so freaking special that we were lined up like royalty on an episode of Downton Abbey?

It was stupid.

“Happy holidays,” Dad boomed, clapping some gray-haired man on the shoulder. “Arnold, how good to see you.”

I stiffened at the familiar name. He was the man responsible for sending Finn away. Even if he was helping, right now I didn’t like him. His eyes clashed with mine over Dad’s head. “It’s a lovely night out for a party.”

Dad nodded and laughed. “Indeed it is. Though it’s not as nice as that California weather, is it?”

Arnold shook his head, his eyes still on mine. “Not quite. Right, Carrie?”

“Uh, right.” I lifted my chin, raising my voice to be heard over Tinkerbell’s incessant barking. “Nice seeing you again, captain.”

He came to my side and dropped a kiss on my head. “I trust you’ll be wanting to speak with me tonight?” he asked quietly.

“You’d be right,” I gritted out. “After dinner.”

“I’ll meet you in the drawing room,” he agreed, squeezing my hand before moving on to my mother. “Darling, you look fabulous.”

I smiled and greeted his wife and two young children, then took a steadying breath. I had a lot of questions for him, but they would have to wait for now.

The doorbell rang again, and Dad opened it. Tinkerbell barked even louder. “Ah, hello, hello. Happy holidays,” Dad boomed. “Come in. It’s great seeing you again, Chris.”

Chris. That didn’t tell me which one this was. But then I saw the guy with him—young, tall, blond, and really hot—and I knew right away. It was the Stapletons.

My intended family…if my family had their way.

Dad beamed at me. “Ah, Riley. Carrie is home, so you won’t be drowning in old people talk tonight.”

“Sir, I must be old myself, because I’ve never been bored.” He placed a hand on Dad’s arm and met my eyes, his smile widening. He had dimples. Freaking dimples. “But I must confess, I’m excited to get to know you better, Carrie. I’ve heard so much about you.”

I pasted on my generic smile and extended my hand, shaking his. His hand was rough and huge on mine, and he seemed friendly enough. If I had met him on this level before I’d met Finn, maybe he would have stood a chance with me. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t Finn. “I hope it was all good.”

He laughed, deep and rumbly. Tinkerbell hopped up on hind legs, whining at his feet. Riley squatted down and pet her, grinning. “Indeed.”

“Good.” I bent over and whispered. “Then they were lying.”

His smile slipped for a second, but he laughed and straightened to his full height again. Tinkerbell slinked back to Mom’s side. “I think we’re going to get along nicely, you and I.” He held out his arm. “Shall we go get a drink?”

I made a face. “I’m not old enough.”

“I won’t tell,” he whispered. “Come on, cutie.”

I raised a brow. “Cutie?”

“Too soon?” He sighed. “I thought since we were getting along so well, we were there. Nicknames and all that.”

“Uh…” I eyed him, torn between genuinely liking him, and not wanting to lead him on. He might be handsome and he might be a catch, but he wasn’t mine to catch. My hook was already taken…or whatever fishing metaphor fit in this situation. I wasn’t exactly the fishing type. I leaned in and dropped my voice. “Look, I have a boyfriend. My parents don’t know about it, so they didn’t tell you, but I do. Have a boyfriend. Who I love.”