Take Me with You (Take Me #2)(18)
Author: K.A. Linde

My father loved me fiercely. He’d always had high expectations for Aaron and me, but since I was three years younger, I felt the weight of his disapproval so much stronger. The thought of disappointing my father was debilitating. He never explicitly came out and said he wanted me to graduate with a practical degree and marry someone successful, like him, but he didn’t have to.

And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t tried.

I’d dated loser after loser, trying to force the feelings for the right guy. I hadn’t even known how sad that was until Grant.

A smile touched my lips. I was going to tell my father about Grant tonight. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. What could he really do about it anyway?

He’d probably call it a phase or something equally hurtful, but I had been dealing with that my whole life. This wasn’t a phase—for me or Grant. I didn’t need to prove anything to my father. I just needed to tell him, so I wouldn’t feel so guilty that my family didn’t know about Grant.

After valeting my car at The Kimberly Hotel where my father had made a reservation for me, I took a cab over to Orchids. A weight sat in the pit of my stomach as the elevator carried me up to the restaurant.

When the doors dinged open, the scent of orchids assaulted my senses. I sneezed twice as I walked over to the host. By chance, it happened to be the same one from the night I had been here with Grant. He looked at me as if he were trying to place how he knew me.

Before he could figure it out, I spoke up, “Reservation for Graham.”

He slightly shook his head to clear his thoughts and then plastered a smile on his face. “Right this way.”

He directed me to a perfect booth in the corner. I saw my father’s smiling face as I approached. He was always so stern, but he looked so happy to see me. Then, everything seemed to slow down as I captured this one moment.

My feet kept moving even though I realized someone else was in the booth with my father. He swiveled around in the booth. His blue eyes caught mine with that same predatory gaze I had come to associate with him.

Henry.

I stumbled a step in disbelief before righting myself. What the hell was he doing here?

Henry stood from the table like a gentleman. He touched the small of my back as he gestured for me to take the seat next to him. “Aribel, it is so good to see you again.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but anything polite would be a lie. He looked handsome in a very expensive suit, but he also was only interested in me because my parents had arranged this entire thing.

“Henry,” I sputtered, “what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for your birthday, of course.” His smile widened. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” I said automatically.

My eyes slid over to my father. He looked amused by the exchange.

“Hello, Aribel. I knew you wouldn’t mind that I invited Henry to your birthday celebration.”

End of discussion.

I closed off the retort I had in mind. My father wouldn’t care to hear what I had to say. He would have invited Henry against my protest. If he wanted Henry to be here, then he would get his way.

The only problem I foresaw was that I hadn’t intended on telling my father about Grant in front of anyone else. I was already nervous enough. Having another witness wasn’t making that any better. Of course, I’d told Henry I had a boyfriend when he kissed me earlier this year, so he already knew, but it was still awkward, considering my family was trying to set me up with him.

“I didn’t realize Henry would be in the city with you,” I said as I slid into the booth.

Henry sat next to me.

“Well, we’re celebrating more than your birthday tonight, Aribel. Henry received a promotion,” my father said.

“Congratulations,” I muttered.

“He’s a very promising employee, doing really well for himself.”

“Thank you, Jim,” Henry replied. “I’m happy to be a part of the company.”

“We should have a toast.” My father gestured for the waiter to come over, and he ordered champagne for the table.

Once the waiter delivered the champagne and it was in hand, he raised his glass. “To my Aribel’s birthday and Henry’s promotion!”

“Cheers,” I whispered, lifting my glass and clinking it against my dad’s and Henry’s before taking a sip.

After we ordered our dinner, I plucked up the courage to interrupt their conversation about banking. I couldn’t believe I was doing this, but I had promised Grant.

“Um…Dad?”

My father tore his attention from whatever Henry was saying to look at me. “Yes, Aribel?”

“I wanted to tell you I’m sort of seeing someone,” I said in a rush.

He looked between Henry and me, and then he let loose a short boisterous laugh. “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me. Aaron let it slip a couple of weeks ago. Your mother and I are thrilled by the idea.”

“You are?” I asked dumbly. Then, my mind caught up with me. Aaron.

Aaron thought I was seeing Henry…that I had slept with Henry.

“Of course. Henry is a great match. Just the kind of person I would entrust with my only daughter.”

“Right.” The words caught in my throat. The kind of person, as in successful, wealthy, highly educated—not someone in a rock band, who had slept with half the state of New Jersey, who had a father who had been in jail for thirteen years.

Anger flared inside of me. How fucking elitist to say something like that!

Grant was a good person who loved and cared about me. Just because he wasn’t like Henry, who had honestly been more willing to sleep with me and then forget about me, didn’t mean he wasn’t the right guy for me—or even that we couldn’t date and find out.

“Actually, it’s not Henry,” I said boldly. “I didn’t mean to give Aaron the wrong impression, but Henry and I aren’t together.” I gestured between us.

Henry kept an amused look on his face as if he liked watching me squirm.

A storm cloud rolled in over my father’s face. “I thought, with the insurance paperwork your mother received—”

“Dad, please,” I groaned. How could he bring that up in front of Henry?

“Is he a Princeton student? Did you meet him in class? What is his major?”

“God, the third degree,” I muttered. “No, he’s not a student. He, uh…works in a recording studio.”

Henry scoffed next to me and then tried to hide it by taking another drink from the champagne. My father just looked increasingly more frustrated with the conversation.