The Honeymoon That Wasn't. Debbi Rawlins
The ladies’ room door opened and she heard someone murmur about dinner starting. She had to go or someone would surely come looking for her.
Straightening, she smoothed back her hair, and then checked the front of her dress. Smiling, she stood, ready for the games to begin. She’d go but that didn’t mean she’d go easily.
“Guess what Mother wants.” Dallas met her partway.
Tony followed Dallas, who gave him an exasperated look.
Dakota sensed an undercurrent but they didn’t seem angry with each other. “What?”
“To change the seating.”
“I would’ve guessed that.”
Dallas snorted. “I’m having the big formal wedding like she wanted, and I kept my mouth shut when she invited half the legal and academic communities, most of whom I don’t know. But that’s it.”
“Calm down.” Tony slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed lightly. “That’s one of the first rules of weddings. Mothers get to show off their kids and put their husbands in the poorhouse. Just ask my pop.”
Dallas rolled her eyes. “Gee, if I’d known that was a rule I wouldn’t have gotten upset.”
“Now you know.”
Sighing, she smiled and kissed Tony on the cheek. “Entertain my sister, okay?”
“I don’t need entertaining,” Dakota said, but Dallas had already flitted over to another couple Dakota didn’t recognize. She turned toward Tony. “I don’t—”
“I know.” His mouth curved in a sexy grin that made her heart skip a beat. “So entertain me instead.”
“BETTER TAKE IT EASY with that stuff.” Tony eyed the brandy snifter in Dakota’s hand, her second cognac as far as he could tell. And that was after several glasses of wine with dinner. A different variety was served with each course. Him, he stuck to his beer. Two glasses of wine and he’d be kissing the floor. For some reason, the stuff really got to him.
“One mother is all I can handle, thank you very much.” She took a deliberate sip, smiled and said, “I’m fine. Really.”
“Okay,” he said without conviction. The fact that she’d said that a little too loudly was proof enough she better give the booze a rest.
Although he had to admit she wasn’t sloppy. If he hadn’t been sitting next to her at dinner he wouldn’t have known she’d had that much wine. Plus each course had been spaced out so that dinner had ended up being the longest, most quiet meal in history. At least for his family. When the San Angelos got together for a party, talking, eating and dancing were not mutually exclusive.
They’d finally finished dessert a half hour ago, and people had started dancing the moment the band struck the first note. He wanted to ask Dakota to dance but the song had to be just the right one. Despite his mouthing off, he wasn’t all that swift on the dance floor. The beat had to be slow and easy so he didn’t have to think too much about what his feet were doing.
He’d skip the idea altogether, but the way Mrs. Shea had been giving him the eye, he figured dancing with Dakota would be the only way he’d get close to her. Dallas and Eric were already out there and so were Trudie and Wendy who’d pulled Tom along with them. At the end of the table, Serena and Nancy seemed deep in conversation.
The song ended and the band eased into another, slower, moodier one he could handle. He turned to Dakota but her father beat him to it.
Mr. Shea was taking her by the hand. “Hope you saved a dance for your old man,” he said, smiling fondly at his daughter.
“Save a dance? No one’s asked me yet,” she said, with a teasing smile at Tony as she set down her brandy.
“My mistake.” He met her eyes. “I claim the next one.”
Laughing, she got to her feet and allowed her father to lead her to the dance floor. The way that dress hugged her curves bordered on illegal. Her hips moved with a little extra enthusiasm almost as if for his benefit. Hard not to stare, but he sensed someone over his shoulder and looked up.
“Mind if I sit with you for a moment?” Mrs. Shea didn’t wait for an answer. She lowered herself gracefully into Dakota’s chair.
“Gee, here I thought you were going to ask me to dance.”
She smiled and gazed out toward the dance floor. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”
“Yes, ma’am. Free liquor does it every time.”
Annoyance flickered in her eyes. One blink and it was gone.
He tried not to smile and sipped his beer.
“Didn’t you like the wine we selected?”
“I’m sure it was just fine. I prefer beer.”
“Ah.” She turned again to watch the dancers.
The woman hardly looked as if she could have three adult children. Tall, blond and trim, she didn’t look much over forty. In fact, she could’ve passed for Dallas and Dakota’s sister.
She caught him staring.
Tony coughed. “I was just thinking how you look more like your daughters’ sister. They’ll be lucky to look like you in twenty years,” he said and meant it. She was a very attractive woman.
She looked annoyed again, her pinched expression adding a decade to her face. “Looks hardly make the person.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” Tony took another sip of beer to avoid saying something sarcastic. Like her being a perfect example.
“Take Dakota.” Mrs. Shea’s gaze went to her daughter. “She could have had a successful modeling career. But she was smart enough to realize the foolhardiness of such a move. Wisely she chose to further her education, secure her future.” She looked at him then, steadily meeting his gaze. “Did you know she’s got a good shot at a judgeship?”
“Yeah, I heard something about it from Dallas. The thing I don’t understand is that she’s only been out of law school for what—three, four years? I’m sure she’s really bright and I don’t know how the system works but isn’t that kind of fast?” He smiled and brought his beer to his lips. “But then again your husband probably has connections if that’s what you two want for Dakota,” he said before taking a long pull.
He had to give the woman credit for keeping a straight face. Maybe she should’ve been the attorney. The only sign that he’d dented her composure was that it took her a few moments to come back with, “Where did you attend college, Mr. San Angelo?”
“NYU. And call me Tony.” He enjoyed the surprise on her face. Probably figured he hadn’t made it through high school. Yet she wouldn’t be disappointed for long.
“What was your degree in?”
Ah, well, the fun lasted all of thirty seconds. “I dropped out the middle of my sophomore year.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Really?” He didn’t think he imagined an inkling of satisfaction on her face. “May I ask why?”
He shook his head. “School just wasn’t for me. I like working with my hands.”
“Yes, but—”
He held up a hand. “No offense, Professor Shea, I understand where you’re coming from but that’s the way it is. I like what I do. I’m not going to change my mind.”
“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to sound as if I’m interfering. We all make our own choices.”
The song ended and Dakota and her father headed back toward them. Even from this distance he could see the alarm on Dakota’s face, and surprisingly what looked like disapproval in her father’s.
Mrs.