Page 57 of Tied to You

I throw the invite on the passenger seat, then shift the car into first, pulling away.Arsehole. I look in the rearview. What happened between us isn’t forgotten, but seeing him curse at me as I drive away makes my angerrise.Calm down. He’ll get what he deserves one day. You knew this is how it would be. Breathe.

Heeding my own advice, I park up and dip out of the car with as much elegance as I can muster. I grab my clutch and adjust my dress, the satin hugging my curves in all the right places. I wish Travis could see it. Urgh, did I really just think that?

Emerald green, the strapless design has a thigh high slit and a sultry, cowl back. It’s a statement. An,I don’t fucking need you, statement to all the people here. My makeup is subtle, and my hair is tied in a low bun at the base of my neck, a few strands trailing down the sides of my face.

I think about sending him a picture, but frown. Not only would that raise questions as to where I am, I’m also royally pissed off with him. Chewing my lip, I no doubt ruin my lipstick wondering whether I should message him.No.Never back down.He’s busy, anyway. I know this.

Bending to the mirror, I apply another layer of red, then straighten, popping a ginger sweet in my mouth and looking for the bar. That’s where my father will be, so let’s get this over with.

“Dad.” I walk up behind him, waiting for him to turn.

One hand in his pocket, one hand holding his Scotch, he turns, slowly, power oozing from him. “Darling.”

I step to him, and he kisses both my cheeks in turn. “Where’s Henry?” he asks, not asking me how I am. We haven’t seen each other since I left a month ago, but his lack of questions doesn’t surprise me.

“With Sarah,” I say confidently, lifting my chin.

Dad’s eyebrows knit. “Who’s she?”

“His plus one.”

He’s not happy that the one manheknows I care for, is here with someone else. Honestly, I’m happy for Henry. He should be happy. All I did was mess with his feelings. “I have something for you.”

Here we go.

He places his Scotch on the makeshift bar set up outside. It’s glowing for the hundreds of fairy lights lighting it up. Balloons line the arch over the top of it, with fresh flowers draping down the sides. “Turn around.”

I listen, turning on my heels, which is something considering we’re in a field. I feel Dad step closer, seeing his hands move into my peripherals. He drapes a necklace over my head, the weight of it instantly uncomfortablearound my neck as he fastens the clasp.

This ishisstatement. His way of showing me what I’m missing out on, according to him. “There.”

I turn around, our eyes locking.

“Happy birthday, darling.”

“Thank you.”

Silence crashes between us. He’s waiting for me to throw my arms around him. To tell him I’m coming home after buying me an overpriced gift. “Where’s Mum?”

His lips pinch. He then turns picking up his tumbler from the bar. “Your mother is working her charm with the Chief Secretary of State before he leaves.”

I snort a fake laugh. “Of course she is. I bet she’s bored shitless.”

“Mouth,” he says. But I see him quip a small, rare smile. He shakes it as soon as he sees me notice, dropping his façade back in place quickly. “Go see her, then make sure you work your way around.”

“Seriously? That’s what you expect me to do?”

“That’s what’s expected of you as my daughter, yes,” he snaps. “You’ve embarrassed me enough, darling. Do what I say without any trouble, for once in your life.”

For once in my life.“You know, for once inmylife,” I snatch his drink and down it with a hiss, knowing it’s all I can have tonight, “I’d like you to care about me and what I want.” I thrust the glass into his chest as a man I don’t recognise comes up alongside him.

My father’s gaze remains on me before he’s patted on his back and looks away. As the managing partner for Harrington Law, he’ll be a man in high demand tonight, which only bodes well for me. I take the opportunity of him being distracted to find my mum.

When she spots me, unlike my dad, she stops talking and strides towards me, arms open, her face beaming. Drunk. “My baby, where have you been?” She hugs me, then holds my hands as she spins me around, admiring my dress. “You look fabulous, darling.”

“Thank you.”

She gasps. “Oh, he gave you your gift without me, the retched man.”