Page 155 of Wreck Me

“We encouraged her to forgo the pretense. She’s strong and forthright, she just needed a helping hand to see that through her fear. The three of us were able to assist with that.”

He stared at me for a moment, trying to absorb the weight of my words.

And then he scanned the immediate area and lowered his voice, “Did she tell you what really happened back there at Vista Ridge?”

Fortunately, before I needed to respond—or more likely evade the direct question—the door burst open and Skylar, herself, came out.

She didn’t even look like herself. Except for her hair, but even that was pulled into an unflattering bun, pushing down all the loose curls. She was wearing a black satin halter dress that flowed all the way to her ankles, and a pair of flats. Very conservative and absolutely not her style at all. There was none of her usual flair or edginess, her creativity completely squashed. It was her mom’s style, through and through. In fact, I’d seen Maria dressed in the same style of dress, hers being navy to match her husband’s suit.

“Dad, there you are,” she said, rushing over. Her gaze darted to me and her eyes sparkled. “Uh… hey, King.”

Frank pushed off the wall and turned to her with a roll of his eyes. “I know, baby girl.”

She started. “You… what?”

He gestured between me and her. “I know about you two. Well, you four.”

“Oh,” she struggled, flabbergasted. “Well, I…”

He chuckled. “Relax, it’s your life. Just be careful. We’ll talk about it more later.”

She looked out at me and I could see her urge to come to me, but something was stopping her. I found out what that was all too quickly as she looked back at her dad and told him, “I need your buffering skills. Vivian Thorn’s date struck up a conversation with Mom while I was—I mean—”

“With her son in the coatroom?”

Jesus.

“I… maybe.” Her cheeks flamed, and she cleared her throat, then managed to go on, “Vivian noticed and the last I saw she was headed over to Mom.”

“Oh, Christ. All right, let’s go.”

“And Damien?” I asked Skylar.

She flinched, but then told me, “He was up at the bar.”

Good. He hadn’t followed Vivian over, sticking to my orders of staying away from Skylar.

As the two of them headed back inside, I took a moment, then made my way back into the nightmare too.

I watched Frank manage to diffuse the situation, calming things between Vivian and Maria impressively quickly, while Skylar looked on and rubbed her mom’s arm.

With that contained and me spotting Damien still up at the bar and settled there, I began my schmoozing.

About halfway through, I neared Caleb and his parents in one of the far corners.

Their raised voices reached me through the cacophony of noise through the mammoth space.

“I want an explanation,” Ford Rowland was demanding of Caleb who was chugging back a glass of whisky, looking the epitome of sophisticated elegance in his heather-gray tux.

“Just getting into the swing of things, I guess.”

“You guess?” Ford grumbled, shoving a hand through his short salt and pepper hair. “Your GPA is in the toilet and that’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“Pretty much.”

“Caleb,” Bridget, his weak little mouse of a mom interjected, pulling at her blond bob. “Please don’t disrespect your father like that.”

“Why not? That’s all he’s done for the last seven years. You too, Mom.”

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