Playing Heart Games

Level 14: Let Her Distract You

Dad's eyes softened. He kissed her head. "They have a beautiful mother."

Her smile grew, her cheeks reddening. "And an incredibly handsome father."

Dad twined his hand with hers before he turned to the valet, his face hardening to all business as he handed over the keys.

My jaw tightened, a ripple of irritation crawling beneath my skin. Sometimes I wondered how he did it. He loved her. I knew that. It was obvious in how he looked at her, in every gesture. He didn't treat her like he treated other people. But how could you love someone and still cheat on them? It made no sense.

I exhaled, but the tension had already set into my muscles by the time an attendant escorted us into the restaurant.

We were all dressed formally for the business dinner tonight. My father, Asher and I in sleek black suits, our hair slicked back. Mom in a black silk and tulle dress, her hair arranged into a classy up-do, diamond jewellery glittering against her skin.

The business dinners were a pretty regular thing. We were all expected to sit and behave like the perfect family to father's potential business partners.

The attendant led us to a private dining area behind a set of glass doors. A balcony looked down on the restaurant's garden, perfectly arranged and complete with a manmade river.

The attendant bowed and excused himself.

Father's gaze slid to me. His lips thinned. His eyes transformed back to ice. "Couldn't you have dyed your hair black? Or at least taken out those ridiculous earrings?"

I smirked. "But then who would piss you off?"

His lips shifted into a scowl.

Mom frowned, her brows furrowing. "Honey, he's just expressing himself." She glanced between the both of us. "Please don't argue you two."

Dad blinked. "Sorry sweetheart."

"Sorry mom."

No arguing in front of mom. The same as when it came to eating mom's food—it was an unspoken rule.

Dad squeezed her hand and her smile returned.

He glanced at his watch. "Let's get seated. The Roland family should be arriving soon."

They arrived fifteen minutes later.

A set of three, two finely dressed parents and a matching daughter. Like the perfect orderly family we were, we all stood and shook their hands politely.

Cassie Roland, the daughter, paused when it was her turn to shake my hand, taking extra time to drag her eyes down my frame before her gaze returned to mine. Her glossed lips lifted into a smile.

I also had a habit of making out with the daughters of the people dad had business meetings with.

Just an extra way to piss off my father.

Dad sat at the head of the table, mom on his right, then Asher, then me at the end. Which put me opposite Cassie Roland, who was still shooting me glances.

The waiter took orders for drinks and for the first course.

"Water please," Asher mumbled.

He turned to me next.

I flashed a smile. "Wine."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father's lips thin.

Success.

"Which would you like sir?"

"You pick."

To be honest, I didn't really care all that much for alcohol. But father liked to believe I was a drunkard, and I liked to entertain him.