Chapter 81 My Father Invited Us For Dinner 1
NADIA
I was waiting for the models to come out of the dressing room when my phone started vibrating inside my bag.
"Who could it be?" I thought, as I picked it up, and saw Dean's name on the screen.
Dean? - I answered, hoping his voice would ease some of the tension that had built up inside me.
"Hello, my Nadia," he replied, and I smiled slightly at the affectionate nickname.
"Are you busy?" he asked.
"No, you can speak," I replied, eager to know what he wanted to tell me.
"Well, we were invited to a dinner," he said, with not a hint of excitement in his voice.
"And where will this dinner be?" I asked, somewhat suspicious of Dean's lack of enthusiasm.
"At my father's house," he replied indifferently.
Hmm. - I murmured as I felt a nervousness creeping into my mind.
A dinner at his father's house?
Oh my God!
Will I meet the Hartford family?
Little dog will definitely be there... Woe betide her if she messes with me, because I'll rip off that blonde wig she calls hair.
"Do you want to go?" Dean asked, interrupting my jumbled daydreams.
"Oh yes, I want to go," I replied, a little excited, after all, I'll be meeting my in-laws.
"Then I'll pick you up at your house at 8 PM to take you to...dinner." Dean hesitated before finishing the sentence, as if he were dissatisfied with my decision.
Okay. - I replied, feeling that perhaps this dinner wouldn't be as good as I had thought.
"See you later, Nadia," Dean said, bidding farewell.
And with that, he ended the call.
"Why do I feel so exposed?" I thought.
And when I looked up, I felt a chill run down my spine as I saw those dull green eyes staring at me, along with ten other curious gazes.
"Shit." I cursed mentally as I put my iPhone back in my bag.
"I apologize for my lack of attention," I said, feeling like a careless idiot.
"Can we start the photo session?"
(...)
Let's say the photo shoot went smoothly and there were no attempted murders or rape.
And also, I was ignored by Mr. Psychopath for almost the entire photo shoot, I said almost.
"Hi Nadia," Frank said as the models got ready to leave.
Hmm. - I murmured, not wanting to talk to this bipolar lunatic.
"Are you still mad at me?" he asked, sounding a little upset.
"What's wrong with this guy?
Schizophrenia?" I thought, shocked by his cynicism.
"What do you think?" I asked sarcastically.
Yes. - He replied, offering a half-smile.
"There you go, you have your answer now," I said after putting my camera in my bag.
"Now, if you'll excuse me."
"Wait, Nadia," Frank said after grabbing my arm.
"Let go of me!" I exclaimed furiously.
"Calm down, I just want to tell you something," he said, letting go of my arm and raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
Just say it. - I spoke knowing that denying it wouldn't make this madman go away.
"I'm moving to Spain tomorrow," Frank said seriously, and I widened my eyes in disbelief.
"Seriously?" I asked, hoping he would confirm.
"Yeah, I signed a five-year contract with a very famous clothing brand in that region," he replied with conviction and without any trace of uncertainty.
"Thank you God, now I know that miracles exist." I thought, feeling a mixture of relief, hope, and happiness.
"So I wanted to give you a goodbye hug," Frank said, flashing a hopeful smile.
"Ah, man, I'd rather hug the devil than hug you," I thought, extending my hand.
"I think a handshake is enough," I said seriously.
Okay. - Frank smiled the same way he smiled when we first met.
"What's gotten into this guy? Seriously, I'm stunned."
"Goodbye, Nadia." He took my hand and instead of shaking it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.
What... - I reflexively pulled my hand away.
"Creeping."
"Bye Frank," I said, turning around and leaving the studio as quickly as I could.
"Thank goodness Alice is closing the studio today." I thought, relieved that I wouldn't have to see that crazy guy ever again in my life.
So I got in my car, plugged my USB drive into the stereo, and started singing "Fancy" by Iggy Azalea.
"Tonight promises to be interesting."
DEAN
I could barely work in the afternoon, thinking about the various possibilities of this dinner ending catastrophically.
I knew Nadia wouldn't take any nonsense, and that my damn "family" didn't mince words, meaning I'd have to think of a way to distract Nadia from the indirect jabs my sister would surely throw her way.
I parked my car in front of Nadia's house and got out, nervous and irritated.
"Shit. Why did she accept that damn invitation?" I thought, even though I knew there was no way she could have known what kind of shit awaited her.
I approached the front door of her house and rang the doorbell twice.
A few seconds later, the door opened, and I felt my cock tighten in my pants.
"Damn, with her dressed like that, it's impossible to be in a bad mood." I thought, devouring her with my eyes.
She was wearing a scarlet red strapless dress that hugged her luscious breasts, accentuated her perfect curves, and ended two hand-widths above her knees.
Her black hair was loose and tousled in a sexy way, she had applied just the right amount of makeup, and to make my cock throb even more, she was wearing black platform pumps with high heels.
"Hi Dean," Nadia said, drawing my attention.
"Hey, hot girlfriend," I replied, pulling her by the waist and then giving her a passionate, dominant kiss.
"Don't forget that you're mine," I said after pulling our lips apart.
"Wow!" Nadia exclaimed with a half-smile.
"I see someone's feeling possessive today."
"With you, I'm possessive every day," I said, smiling provocatively.
"Hmm," she murmured, watching me with desire.
"You're so hot."
"You only say that because you want to get into my pants," I said, flashing a playful smile.
"That's right," Nadia confessed, tugging at my tie.
"Wait a minute," she said, raising an eyebrow.
"I know that tie."
"Do you know it?" I asked innocently.
"Funny guy," she replied, flashing a charming smile.
"You put it there on purpose, didn't you?"
"Let's just say she's become my favourite," I replied honestly.
"I like it," Nadia said, still holding her.
"Especially when she's immobilising my wrists."
"Are you provoking me, Ms. Thompson?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I am," she said.
"What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing, because we're late for that damn dinner," I replied irritably after glancing at my wristwatch.
"Damn it," Nadia muttered sulkily, making me smile again.
"How could anyone not love this woman?"