The Cunning Thief (Stolen Hearts #6)(31)

“I mean a few minutes.”

“And you saw him in person, right? Not over the phone or anything? I know you wouldn’t lie about something that important just so you’d be included, right?” he asked pointedly.

“It was in person, okay? Maybe through a car window but it was in person.”

Tristan groaned but thankfully didn’t say anything. Probably not because he wasn’t upset, but because he didn’t want to make a scene.

“Try to look like you belong.” Tristan handed her a glass of wine.

“Is this a good idea?” She motioned to the wine.

He frowned at her. “Now you’re worried about something being dangerous? About time you showed some interest in self-preservation.”

Shae rolled her eyes and took a decent size sip of the wine. She didn’t down the whole glass, but enough so that people would know she was drinking. She was still confused as to whether she was supposed to try to stand out or fade into the background. Tristan seemed to be giving her contradictory advice just to annoy her. She thought back to what she remembered about Damask. He’d been sitting down, so she wasn’t sure about height. But he’d had a weathered face. A face that looked as though it had seen things and hadn’t been affected by any of it. His dark eyes had been shrouded with crow’s feet and thick, unruly brows. His clean-shaven face had so many wrinkles that it had her questioning how he even managed to shave. Not wrinkles from age, but wrinkles from a stressful life.

Shae glanced over at Tristan. His face was the exact opposite. Bright, beaming blue eyes; smooth, perfect complexion. Everything about him was perfectly groomed. The perfect picture to present to the public. She wondered whether he would eventually have stress lines. He was a thief for a living. That wasn’t exactly a relaxing job. But somehow he seemed to handle everything so smoothly. As though he planned each detail and was three steps ahead. Even during that shootout, he barely broke a sweat. The only time he seemed to be flustered at all was... well, around her. She decided not to read too much into that.

He looked as though he fit right into this world. Funny, considering she’d been born into it, and she felt completely out of place. It didn’t matter what she was wearing or how handsome the man on her arm was, but she’d always feel slightly different from these people. They all seem so... at ease. As though they were meant to be here and knew exactly what to do and how to act. She remembered the last time she’d been to a party with her father. He’d been so excited to show her off. His perfect, polished daughter who was acing business school and was ready to take on the world. That was the day everything had gone wrong.

Shae kept on looking over the crowd for any sign of Damask when she saw the last thing she expected to see. She twisted around and leaned in closer to Tristan, hoping his body would cover her as much as possible. The motion was hardly subtle, and Tristan leaned in closer, as though instinctively protecting her. “What’s wrong? Do you see him?”

“No. So much worse. My father. What the hell is my father doing here?”

She felt every hair on the back of her neck stand up and cursed her delayed instincts. Why couldn’t her body have given her those warning signs before she walked in? Or maybe it had, and she’d been so determined to be of some use to Tristan and his people that she ignored all of these warning signs.

“Which one’s your father?” asked Tristan softly.

“The imposing-looking one with the crowd of admirers around him.”

She’d always admired and feared parts of her father. He had an uncanny ability to get people to listen to him and, most importantly, agree with him. He’d been able to work the same magic on her for years. Telling her wild stories about everything they’d achieve together and that she’d be his equal partner. That was the trick. No one was really his equal. Even when it came to his family, he always put himself first. Come to think of it, that was probably the biggest reason she kept herself alone. The unwavering belief that everyone put themselves first eventually.

“Do you think he’ll hurt you?” asked Tristan.

Shae stiffened and glanced up to look at him, still carefully keeping her face averted from Manuel Grant. “No. Of course he wouldn’t hurt me.” At least not physically....

“Maybe we should go say hi.”

“Say hi? Are you crazy?”

“It would be a good way to shake up Damask,” said Toni.

Shae blinked at the voice and then realized it was coming from the earpiece. Good Lord, it sounded as if she were right next to her. Then she was filled with a fresh mortification that everyone on the team was probably listening to her freak out at seeing her own family right now.

“This is a good thing,” said Toni. “If Damask sees you in front of your father, he’s not going to have you kicked out. At least not immediately. Go say hello and make yourself known.”

Shae shook her head. This was crazy. “This is an office appreciation event. What the hell is my father doing at an office appreciation event? He doesn’t work in offices. He owns them.”

“We’re figuring this out as we go along,” said Scott in her ear. “Take it one step at a time, and know that we’re going to be with you every step of the way. Are you scared?”

Shae stared up into Tristan’s crystal-blue eyes. Scared? She was terrified. But she knew that Gage and Hunter were somewhere nearby. She had a feeling no one would hurt her with Tristan by her side. But her father could hurt her in plenty of ways, none of them physical. Not even Tristan could protect her from that. “I’m good,” said Shae reluctantly.