Page 144 of Poison Aches

“Ma’am, all guests have to be checked in, so are you on the list or is this an impromptu visit?”

“I actually don’t know if I’m on the list…” I trail off. “I’m here to see, um, Mr. Teddy Hughes.”

The man gives me a once-over. “There is no Mr. Teddy Hughes that lives here.”

I frown. “I’m pretty sure I was given the right address,” I murmur as confusion starts clouding my mind. Hell, this car was even sent for me.

“Listen, miss, don’t try to be smart here. You have the wrong address and tonight is not the night to be trying something funny.”

Wait, what? “Do unsuspecting girls try funny things here usually?”

“Are you being a smart-ass?” he snaps, taking a step closer to the car as if he’ll hurl me out at any second.

“No, no, I’m just getting really nervous,” I rush to say. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I was told to come to this address at this specific time today.”

“By whom?”

“By Melissa. Melissa Hughes. She told me she lives here too.”

The man stops and looks at me, like really looks at me as if I just said the most unusual thing.

“Miss Melissa Hughes gave you this address and told you to come here?” he questions

“Yes.”

The man frowns slightly as he watches me for a few seconds, then he raises his left hand and speaks into his sleeve so low I don’t hear him.

“Name?” he snaps.

“Ivy Irving.”

Silence falls between us.

Then he suddenly straightens and looks at me. “My apologies for the mix-up, Miss. It seems youwereinvited tonight,” the super security dude says with a sheepish look on his face. “It’s just tonight, we’re all cylinders and the way you’re dressed…” he trails off.

“The way I’m dressed?” I mutter.

“If I may ask a favor of you, Miss… please don’t mention this infraction to them. You see, I really need this gig and I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Them? Who’s them?

But most importantly…

What exactly is happening here tonight beside me meeting the man who might potentially be my father?

Tonight, I decided to go for casual, so as not to give off an impression that I’m trying too hard to impress a father who never even knew I existed, so I’m wearing a simple pair of distressed jeans, combat boots, and a black tee with a black leather jacket.

“Uh, of course, but… what’s happening tonight?” I ask quickly as a flutter of nerves unfurls in my tummy. “Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed?”

The dude looks me up and down from where he stands out the car with a look I can only liken to someone who feels sorry for me, but before he can reply, the huge gates start to slide open.

The car starts driving through and then we’re going down the driveway.

It’s then I see the mansion is big, but maybe just a third of the mansions I’ve grown up around in Westbrook Blues.

There’s a fleet of black town cars, SUVs, and fancy sports cars in front, but what makes my eyes widen are the multiple security personnel all over, but obviously strategically placed.

What is going on here?

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