Page 31 of Don't Call Me Daddy
I tuck my hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads me up the cobblestone path to the entrance.
“Where did we meet?”
“At a charity event last summer. We bonded over a deep conversation about climate change, spent the whole weekend together, and parted ways as long-distance lovers,” I answer without missing a beat.
“Don’t saylovers. That’s weird.”
“What am I supposed to call it? We fell in love, didn’t we? You want me to say we were pen pals? Sexting buddies?”
He holds up his hand. “Just stop. We were in a long-distance relationship. There’s no reason to elaborate on what that looked like.”
“I think the people want to know how we went from a weekend together to engaged, Leo. If there wasn’t any phone sex, then?—”
“Please don’t talk about phone sex. It’s not the crowd. This is my family and all our closest friends who might as well be family.” He rubs his temples.
I shrug. “Fine, but if they ask, then I can’t make any promises. You want this to be believable, then we definitely had phone sex.”
“Trust me, they won’t ask. Now, let’s just get this over with.” He opens the door, revealing a scene straight out of a Vegas nightclub—the ones I’ve seen on TV anyway.
We walk through the foyer, passing a burlesque dancer holding a tray of shrimp cocktail, and I swipe one off the tray as I follow Leo into the living room. My eyes go wide as I take in all the characters. There are so many people here, and some of these costumes look like the real thing.
There’s an oversized cage big enough for a tiger in the middle of the space, and I spot an orange cat curled up on the small platform, fast asleep. It’s hilarious how he seems so unbothered,the large metal bars are easily spaced wide enough for him to walk through if he wanted to get away, but he looks too comfortable sitting atop his plush throne.
“Leo!” Mary calls out as she rushes to us with a martini in hand.
Leo’s mom’s wearing a crown-shaped birthday hat and a sequins sheath dress that falls to her knees. She looks classy and timeless and is even more beautiful than last time I saw her.
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad you came.” She waves someone over, and a few moments later, Frank appears, wearing a white Elvis jumpsuit, complete with a wig and platform boots to match.
“Ivy, you remember my parents,” Leo starts, but they’re already hugging me.
“We’re so happy you could make it! I can’t think of a more perfect event for you to meet everyone. Leo, make sure you make the rounds. Everyone has been dying to meet your future bride,” Mary says as she hugs Leo.
“Mrs. Kingsley, this is incredible.”
“Please call me Mary. I think it came together rather nicely. We had a few hiccups with the entertainment, but I think it all worked out in the end. We love any excuse to bring people together, don’t we, Frank?”
His slow nod says everything he doesn’t. The man is so smitten with his wife that he’d do anything to make her smile. Even throw a cat’s twenty-first birthday party.
“Which reminds me, we really need to start talking about your wedding shower … and then there’s the bachelor and bachelorette parties …”
She looks to Leo, bubbling with excitement, and to my absolute shock, the ice man cracks a smile but quickly course corrects.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Ivy and I are taking our engagement slow.”
“You know it wouldn’t kill you to show a little enthusiasm every now and then. I’d hate to think you were actually happy,” Frank teases, and the remnants of Leo’s smile fade into a hard line.
“Oh, trust me, he wasbursting with excitementjust before we came.” I squeeze Leo’s bicep and wink.
Leo stiffens. “She doesn’t mean it like that—” he starts to argue, but Frank just laughs and shakes his head.
“I knew I liked you. It takes a strong, confident woman to be with a Kingsley man. We’re a stubborn breed—that’s for sure.”
He plants a kiss on Mary’s cheek, and her whole face lights up. It’s the cutest fucking thing, watching them so clearly in love. If I ever settle down and it’s not like that, then I don’t want it.
It might not be my twenty-first birthday and technically not Vegas, but the party checks all the boxes in my book. Besides, I think Fern would make an exception if she were here to see this.
The music grows louder as a Britney Spears drag queen impersonator steps up to perform on the small platform in the center of the room, and we all spin to watch her. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. Between the bass of the music vibrating in my chest and the flashing lights, I feel like I’m really in Vegas watching a show. I don’t even want to know how much work went into this party tonight, much less the cost of turning their living room into a Vegas nightclub.
