Page 155 of Marrying the Billionaire Single Dad

"I couldn't have done it without your help." She grips my shoulder, "Thank you, Karina."

"I didn’t do anything," I mutter.

"You put your job on the line when you gave me the access codes to his house."

"Nothing that he didn't want happening." I stare past the women to the congregation of men at the bar. Weston's behind the counter serving, Damian's typing out something on his phone, while Sinclair and Saint, are engrossed in discussion.

"Where are the rest of the Seven?" I ask

"You mean Arpad?" Julia's lips quirk.

"I mean—" My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my handbag.

Arpad Ahole: The security camera on my yacht is not working. You need to check it out right away.

Me: I 'm at a party

Arpad: I don't pay you to drink on my time. I need this fixed ASAP.

"What the hell?" I huff

"What's wrong?" Julia turns to me.

"Nothing." I grouse. I drop the phone in my bag, then reach over to grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

"Wait... What did I miss?" Isla walks over to join us. "Who's engaged? Whose wedding do I need to plan next?"

"Not mine, thank you very much," I assure her.

"That's what you say now." She looks me up and down, "Speaking of, you look awesome, girl. I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before."

"It's not an attire that's suited to my line of work exactly," I reply. Running a security agency means being on call 24/7, and the physical nature of the work involved means pants are more practical outfits.

"Just take the compliment, already," Isla teases.

"You're right." I nod, "Thanks." I run my fingers down the fabric that clings to my figure, "I quite like the results, actually."

"Has Arpad seen you in this outfit yet?"

I blow out a breath, "Okay, stop. He's my employer, and he hates my guts."

"Maybe he's secretly in love with you," Isla counters.

"No, thank you." I hitch my handbag over my shoulder. "I want nothing to do with him or the Seven."

"And us?" Summer grins. "What about us?"

"You girls are the best," I say sincerely. "These alphaholes don't deserve you."

"Hear, hear." Victoria walks over and embraces me warmly. "Shall we toast?" She raises her glass of water, "To girlfriends."

"To women who know what they want," I raise my glass.

"To alphaholes who know whatwewant." Julia chuckles.

"To us." Isla raises her glass and we clink.

"Am I too late for the toast?" Meredith walks over, champagne glass in hand.