Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95816 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I made a concerted effort to ignore the elephant in the room, yet time and again, my gaze wandered to the happy VanRyan clan. I studied each of them, noticing small similarities between them and myself. Each of them had some characteristic of their father that we seemed to share. One common theme I noticed was the cowlick we all shared. No matter how much I flat-ironed it, I was never able to get that one piece of hair as smooth as the rest. Neither, it seemed, could any of them. My gaze would often meet Richard’s, his inquiring and confused, mine angry and accusatory. I danced with Luc, picked at the food in front of me, and forced a smile to my face. I ignored them and him as best I could.
Until I couldn’t.
Heather and Reed came over and sat down, chatting with us. I kept my remarks polite and light, commenting on the sweet ceremony and how pretty Heather looked. Luc started asking Reed something when Heather smiled widely at someone behind me, shaking her head.
“Hey, Daddy. My feet are too sore to dance anymore.” She indicated the floor where her shoes lay, discarded to the side.
Richard chuckled. “No problem, my girl. I thought I would ask Ashley for a spin on the dance floor. You’ve hogged her enough, Luc.”
My shoulders tensed as everyone chuckled. Richard held out his hand, a silent challenge he expected me to back away from.
I stood and followed him to the dance floor. He held me loosely, no doubt sensing my tension.
“Having a good time?” he asked mildly.
“It’s great,” I bit out, looking over his shoulder.
“I understand you’re an event planner. Do you enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s how you met Luc?”
I swallowed the anger that was beginning to choke me. “Yes.”
“He seems very taken with you.”
“Is that an issue?”
He twirled me, effortlessly bringing me back to his embrace. I had to admit, he was a good dancer.
“Not at all,” he denied. “Although I sense it might be for you.”
“My relationship with Luc is none of your business,” I hissed, looking at his hand, seeing the trace of the black monogram his jacket sleeve hid.
He lifted an eyebrow in surprise at my words.
“I’ve known Luc since he was a kid. He’s part of this family,” he replied. “This is the first time he’s ever brought a woman to meet us. I’m simply saying what I’ve observed.”
“Have you observed anything else?” I asked sarcastically.
Our eyes locked for a moment, the colors so similar. His looked greener right then, and I was certain mine would as well. They always looked green if I was upset.
“Have we met before?” he asked bluntly.
“No.”
“Yet I feel the dislike you have for me. Why is that? Did I inadvertently insult you somehow?”
I had to fist my hand to stop from slapping him.
“I assure you, Mr. VanRyan, when you insult people, it isn’t inadvertently.”
He stiffened. “I don’t understand.”
I stopped dancing, pulling away from him but keeping my voice low and a fake smile plastered on my face. “I’m sure you don’t. You never have. Go enjoy your time with your family,” I almost snarled. Then I raised my voice, interjecting a false, bright note. “Thank you for the dance. I have a headache. Excuse me.”
I rushed away, praying he didn’t follow.
Luc took me back to the hotel, and we walked up the steps in silence. In the room, I turned to him. “Go back and enjoy it.”
He shook his head. “I’m staying here with you. The wedding is casual and will break up in a couple of hours. The happy couple is heading into Toronto, and the party will split into small chunks. The dads always sit around after and drink, mourning their little girls getting married. They—”
He stopped talking, and I shook my head. “It’s fine, Luc. It’s not going to upset me if you talk about your friends.”
He sat down, tugging off his suit jacket and loosening his tie. “It’s odd. I found myself looking at Heather and Gracie, even Richard, trying to find similarities to you.”
“And did you?”
“Yes. The eyes, something about the smile, that little flip your hair does. More Heather than Gracie. I think she resembles Katy more.”
I nodded.
“You’re taller and slender—your build is more like Richard’s.”
“My mom too.”
He opened his laptop, indicating I should come sit beside him. I sat down and waited as it booted up, and he showed me some images.
“These are old, and I had to dig deep to find them because they really didn’t get very much coverage. But I found a few pictures of your mom and Richard—together.”
I looked at the images he had saved on the screen. A much younger version of Richard and my mother appeared in all three photos, obviously taken during nights out at an event. My mom had golden-brown hair in two of the photos, and in one, her hair was darker, more like my own. She wore a beautiful dress in each picture—her makeup was perfect, and she was gorgeous. Richard was beside her, dressed in a dark suit each time, his ties muted colors against the snow white of his dress shirt. The last picture made me catch my breath. It was obviously taken later in the evening. Richard’s suit jacket was folded over his arm, and the camera caught the monogram on his shirt sleeve—the black vivid against the white.