Page 38 of The Valentine's Bet

“Yeah, okay. Well, I’m just saying that you seriously drool over her the moment she walks into a room. It’s so obvious.”

“I told you, it’s not like that. It’s just like watching a car wreck, remember?”

He snorts. “Okay. You just keep telling yourself that, but I know good and well what a man looks like when he’schecking a woman out.”

“I’m not doing that.” Though I catch myself stealing another glance in Amy’s direction, noting how nice she looks in her bootie heels. However, her date’s eyes seem to be everywhere buton Amy. He’s most definitely checking out the other women, and I can’t help but cringe. Horrible manners.

My phone vibrates in my hand and my dad’s face fills the screen. As much as I want to decline his call, I don’t.

It’ll be a decent distraction.

“Hey, Pops,” I say, stepping away from the chattering crowd and booming music.

“Hey, Parker. How’s your New Year’s Eve party?”

“It’s fine,” I mutter. “Are you partying it up at the house this year?”

“No, no. Your sister invited me to come hang out with her and her fiancé. You know she’s getting married, right?”

“Yep.”

“You were invited here too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but I had already made plans to be here tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s always somethin’ with you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, exasperated. “You never wanna hang out with us anymore. Are we not high society enough for you? Is it because you don’t want your fancy friends to know that you’re just a poor ol’ boy from the Bronx?”

Here we go again...

“Dad, it’s really got nothing to do with that. I don’t care if people know where I grew up.”

“Yeah, well, it sure seems like you’ve been avoiding me lately—and I know you call your mom more than you do me. Probably ’cause she went off with that rich guy from Manhattan—and now they live in the Hamptons.”

“They aren’t even together anymore,” I say flatly. “She lives in Connecticut now. I don’t know what you want me to tell you. I hadother plans tonight, and I couldn’t make it, but I can meet you for lunch next week if you’d like.”

“No. I can’t afford the places you eat at,” he snaps.

I tug at my hair with frustration, trying not to lose it on him. “Okay, well, I don’t care where we eat. We can just eat at Jimmy’s. I’ll take the afternoon off or something.”

He scoffs. “Yeah? You think you can actually make time for that? I know it’s rough catering to us poor people.”

“Oh, c’mon. You know I don’t think that.”

“Well, my house in the Bronx isn’t nearly as fancy as—”

“I’ve offered to move you and—”

“I don’t want your charity,” he snaps.

There’s no winning.

“Okay. I’ll just ... I’ll call you next week.”

“Alright. Night, kid.” With that, he hangs up.

“Love you too, Pops,” I mumble, ignoring the pang of hurt in my chest as I shove the phone back into my jacket pocket. All the therapy in the world doesn’t take away the sting when my dad gets in a mood. Honestly, the only reason I declined my sister’s invitation tonight was because I’d already promised Amy I would walk her to the party...

And then she canceled on me with less than two hours to spare.

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