Faking Ms. Right (Dirty Martini Running Club, #1)(12)

But it wasn’t her dress, the amount of thigh showing, nor the look of evil cunning in her eyes that rendered me speechless. It was the way my dad slipped an arm around her waist and drew her against him that cut off my air supply.

“Shepherd, this is Svetlana Genov,” he said, his dimples puckering with his wide smile.

Oh my god, she had to be fucking kidding me.

Svetlana smiled, tilting her head slightly, like she was being shy, and held out her hand. “So nice to meet you, Shepherd. Your father has told me so much about you, it feels like I know you already.”

Fuck. Dad had no idea I’d been dating her. It’s not like I’d introduced her to my family. I’d probably never even mentioned her name.

How had she met him? And was she going to pretend we didn’t know each other? Why the fuck did she think I’d go along with that?

But one look at my dad’s face, and I knew I couldn’t out her. Not here, in front of an audience. When it was supposed to be his night. That soft heart my dad carried in his chest was going to be crushed. I needed to get through the evening, then see my dad privately.

I took Svetlana’s hand for as brief a handshake as I could manage. “How did you two meet?”

“Hawaii,” he said. “We were staying at the same resort. She offered to buy me a drink, and then we had a good laugh because we were at an all-inclusive.”

“Really?” I asked. Motherfucker. “Dad, I had no idea you’d gone to Hawaii recently.”

“Like I said, I needed some time to figure things out.” He pulled Svetlana tighter against him. “Obviously it was time well spent.”

Svetlana batted her eyelashes and nuzzled against his arm.

I swallowed back the taste of vomit. “That’s great, Dad.”

“So tell me, son, where’s your date? I’d love to meet her.”

Svetlana’s lips parted over her white teeth in a wicked grin. “Yes, Shepherd, where is she? I’d love to meet her as well.”

I narrowed my eyes. Fuck her. She wanted to play this game? She had no idea who she was dealing with. I was going to bury her.

“She’s just running a little late.” I pulled out my phone. “In fact, I should give her a call to see if she’s on her way.”

“Good,” Dad said. “Come find us when she gets here.”

“I will.” I gave Svetlana a cold smile before turning to walk away.

I kept my pace unhurried until I was out of their line of sight. Then I rushed my ass into a stairwell and started flicking through my contacts. Now I needed a goddamn date. But who could I get down here on a moment’s notice?

I scrolled through the names, ignoring my business contacts—which were most of them. I wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with any of my exes. The women I dated typically hated me when our brief relationships were over. Somehow they always blamed me for not being what they were looking for—a wealthy man who’d spoil them—and were mortally offended when I had the audacity to dump them.

I scrolled back up, in reverse alphabetical order. I was not letting Svetlana win this round. If I had to call a fucking escort service, I was going to have a beautiful woman on my arm in the next half hour.

A name stared at me from my screen. I’d already scrolled by it twice, not even considering her as an option. But there it was. Everly Dalton, my personal assistant.

She was hands down the best assistant I’d ever had. The fact that she’d worked for me for so long was proof of that. My assistants always quit. Male or female, they always wanted a bunch of goddamn hand-holding and pats on the head. I didn’t need a pet who was constantly seeking my approval. I needed an assistant who could do the job I’d hired them to do.

That was exactly what Everly did.

At first, I’d thought she’d be just like the others. She didn’t come across as a woman with a solid backbone. She was too cute—smiled too much. But she was tough as nails. Smart, efficient, productive. She was great at her job and I paid her well for it. Very well, in fact. In three years, I’d raised her salary four times.

But standing in as my date? I scowled at my phone. Everly wasn’t that sort of girl. She was nice to look at, certainly. I didn’t choose my assistants based on their attractiveness, but if I did, Everly would’ve passed with flying colors. Pretty face, long blond hair. I could almost picture her in an evening gown, but that was a stretch. She was not the sort of woman I dated—not anything like them. Could she pull it off and fool my dad?

Plus, Svetlana had met her. She’d know I was lying.

Or would she? When Svetlana had come to my office, she’d eyed Everly with open jealousy. As if she’d been sure I was fucking my pretty assistant on the side. I wasn’t—I never dipped my pen in company ink. But Everly here as my date would dig at Svetlana in a way no other woman could.

That clinched it. I tapped Everly’s number and hit call.

“Um, hello?” she said. “Mr. Calloway?”

“I need you at the Four Seasons Ballroom,” I said.

“Wait, what?”

“Four Seasons.”

“I know where you are, I just don’t understand why you need me to come down there. It’s nine o’clock at night. What’s wrong?”

I glanced at my watch. I needed her here, now. “Text me your address and I’ll send a car to pick you up.”