Page 65 of Father of the Bride
“I’ma take an Uber,” he snapped. “I ain’t riding back with his ass.”
“Alright, but just listen to me for a second.”
The emotional young man brought his gaze to Mark, who quickly realized he was witnessing more pain than anger.
“You’re not in the right headspace right now. I get it.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.” Mark crossed his arms. “You love my daughter, but you’re surrounded by bullshit.”
“Exactly. Lies, people hiding shit, drama around every goddamn corner.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for cursing but I’m frustrated.”
“It’s all good.” Mark inhaled deeply, feeling a prickle of guilt for being part of the problem. “We just gotta get you down that aisle, man. So block out all the noise. Keep your head down and push through. It’ll be alright. I promise.”
“You can’t promise me that,” Dav mumbled. “Thanks for trying, though.”
A black Navigator pulled up to the curb. The driver jogged around, opened the door, and Mark smiled as his father stepped out.
“Here we go,” Mark said. “We got a celebrity in our midst.”
In spite of everything, Davion smiled, too. William Bennett was even cooler than his son.
Mark and his father hugged lovingly, making Davion ache with envy. William embraced him next, patting him warmly on the back. They didn’t get a chance to talk before Dav’s ride pulled up, but they promised to catch up later.
Mark held it together long enough to see Davion off, but once the Uber was out of sight, he blew out a breath.
“Pop. I’ma tell you right now…you just walked into some bullshit.”
Chapter 21
Partyplannersturnedtheliving room into a chic oasis of glitter, tulle, and rose gold everything.
Fresh from a massage and a shower, Sunny barely recognized the room. It was truly fit for a princess, and Brooklyn appeared to love it.
The girls came to the bridal shower dressed very demure and glamorous like they were ready for a day at the Kentucky Derby, minus the big hats. It was all delightfully girly and bougie. Sunny loved it, too.
Brooklyn’s white strapless romper displayed her caramel brown skin. Her makeup was done to perfection. She glowed like a woman who had it all. Sunny couldn’t have been happier for her. She just wished Brooklyn looked as happy as she should.
“Um, T?” she whispered to her best friend as they went down the buffet line. “You can get back in line more than once. Act like you been somewhere.”
Tigra’s mountainous plate balanced precariously in her hands as she tried her best to spoon punch out of the bowl. “I’ve been everywhere, but this food is insane. You see this beluga caviar?”
Sunny had to admit the spread was top notch. She read the tiny placards, marveling at the imported truffle brie, Marcona almonds sprinkled with pink sea salt, hand-shaved prosciutto de Parma, poached lobster tails, Kumamoto oysters with gold-flecked mignonette. Mini wagyu tartare cones topped with edible rose petals. Foie gras macarons. After a while, she got tired of reading and just started grabbing whatever looked pretty.
At the table, Tigra looked around, her eyes narrowing. “So when does the bitch get here?”
Sunny shrugged. “Some time today.”
“Hmph.” Tigra took her champagne to the head. “Maybe she’ll crash her car.”
“Don’t say that.”
“She doesn’t have todie,” Tigra clarified. “It just needs to be bad enough that she doesn’t make it to the wedding.”
“I hate the bitch more than you do, but we’re not wishing that on her.”
“Right, because you want her to be here so she can see you with that adonis in there.”
