Page 134 of Not A Whisper

“Do they? Or do they adore your money? Because they can lovethatwithout your presence just fine. And from the few conversations I’ve had, it sounds like they fear you. Fear and love are very different, Garry.”

His eyes flash. Great, I’m digging myself a hole. I take another long swig of the bubbly champagne, leaving just a splash at the bottom of the glass. Tired of just standing here, I decide to make things a bit more interesting.

“Do you dance, Garry?” I ask him, twisting to put my glass down on the empty table behind us. “Because standing here is boring, and I didn’t have a father-daughter dance after the wedding ceremony. We can change that now, if you’d like?”

Garry’s annoyance disappears, a real smile pulling at his mouth.

“I suppose I can dust the cobwebs off for my daughter-in-law.”

I didn’t expect him to accept. Garry’s ok with dancing with me? Someone he thinks so little of? Well, I suppose it would look good if the two of us mingled pleasantly. I’m sure this is somehow Garry’s way of making things look like everything is fine between him and his son.

Whatever, I’ll play his game. I’m the one who asked him anyway.

Garry offers me his hand, and without hesitation, I take it. He leads me out onto the dance floor—his grip on my hand is a little bit too tight—before turning toward me and placing his hand on my hip. Internally, I cringe at the contact. This may have been a mistake. I swallow down the bile that’s threatening to climb up my throat, and I place my hand on Garry’s shoulder.

“You know,” Garry drawls as he takes the lead and moves us around. Huh, I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s one of the few that can actually dance. There won’t be any two-stepping for us. “I almost feel sorry we met under these conditions.”

I hum noncommittally, not really sure what to say to that.

“You seem like a survivor, Briella. A true fighter, and your loyalty to my son and his friends is admirable. To have someone like you, someone I can trust implicitly, on my team would be nice.”

My shoulders shake lightly as I chuckle. “Is this a recruitment speech?”

Garry smiles. “No, I think we’re past that now.”

I can’t say there was ever a moment where I would’ve entertained it in the first place. My eyes slide from Garry’s face to around the room. Where are Trip and Jason? A wave of heat rolls over me. Did we dance under a vent?

Garry’s hand tightens around mine, pulling my attention back to him. I appraise him curiously. “Then what’s with the flattery?”

“Who knows when we’ll talk again?” Garry says with a shrug.

Bile tickles the back of my throat again. My stomach suddenly clenches hard. Maybe it’s not only Garry’s presence that I’m physically repulsed by. I swallow hard as beads of sweat gather at the back of my neck.

“That sounds ominous.”

Garry doesn’t reply as he leads us through the steps. We pass couples that sway side to side. Garry and I smile at them. The couples grin back. Garry and I move past where Grant is mingling. I catch his eye. Grant’s smile doesn’t falter but there’s a flash in his eyes. A warning to be careful.

We’re on the other side of the dance floor, as far away from Grant as possible, when the room starts to spin. I stumble slightly. Garry’s grip tightens as he steadies me.

“Careful,” he murmurs.

I certainly have to be around him.

Trying not to wince as my stomach churns, I suck in a shaky breath. God, why would they turn the heat up in the room with so many people? It was comfortable before but now it’s almost unbearable.

As the music changes, I stop and let go of Garry. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“You do look a bit flush. Do you need some help?” His eyes sweep over me thoughtfully.

I shake my head, stepping away from him as I do, but the ground shifts beneath me. Garry catches me at the elbow and draws closer to my side.

“Oh dear, let me at least get you away from all these people. You wouldn’t want to make a scene during Grant’s special night, would you?” The concern in his voice seems a little much. “I can at least do this for you.”

I open my mouth to object but my stomach rolls. Oh no… With my dinner threatening to make a reappearance, I concede with a tight nod. As Garry guides me out of the room, I look around for the guys. I still don’t see Jason or Trip. Grant is lost in the masses, not where he was only moments ago.

We step out into the hallway and Garry waves someone over. The server who brought over our drinks hurries to our side.

“Can you escort Miss Wilson somewhere quieter, please? She’s not feeling well.”

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