“Father?” I glanced up, pleading with my eyes. “Please…”
He shook his head one last time. “No.” His eyes scanned my face, softening a minor degree. “Your fiancé will be here tomorrow. You’ll be able to meet him then. I promise you that I’ve picked the best I can. I do believe you’ll like him.”
My eyes widened to the extreme. “Tomorrow?”
He nodded. “Yes, I thought it would be best for you two to have a few days together before…” He trailed off and sighed. “Well, you’ll get to meet him soon enough.”
I could only gawk at my father.
“He truly is handsome.” He winked as he exited into his office.
Fuck. Me.
CHAPTER TWO
I punched a code into the door, my fingers shaking with anger. The light turned green. I jerked the long handle sideways and exhaled in appreciation as the large food locker’s freezing air hit my face. I stepped from the loading dock into the refrigeration unit and took my time winding through the maze of product. When my skin was properly chilled and no longer flushed with frustration, I walked through the far door and into a dimly lit hallway.
The walls were painted ivory, and the floor was made of dark silver concrete. It was a hallway I’d stumbled through—in a drunken stupor—many times. I walked with forced patience, more than ready to sit down where there were plenty of bottles of alcohol. The burn of hard liquor running down my throat would be a welcome sweet agony.
A right turn took me to the back entrance of my favorite bar on base. Typically, it was filled with military personnel I knew well. But tonight, I stopped just past the door and glanced around. The walls of this place were paper thin, so I tried not to listen as a man peed inside the bathroom on my left. There were many individuals—every single one a male—sitting at the bar and at the free standing tables, all chatting amicably.
But they weren’t wearing the red uniforms of the Liberated Army.
The soldiers wore black military attire, a golden crown stitched on the material.
It was the Corporate Army.
I pulled my ball cap down a little further on my head as a few peered in my direction.
I had apparently walked in on their private party.
It wasn’t the first time I had done such. There were always different groups coming onto the base to meet with officials here. I just hadn’t expected it tonight.
My favorite bartender waved in my direction. “What’ll it be tonight, Poppy?”
Guilt for crashing their party made me hesitate.
Gina coaxed, “Come on, girl. I know you need a drink. I can see it on your face.”
I strolled toward her and sat on one of the two vacant high seats at the end of the curved bar. Gina was right. I did need a drink. Or three. Maybe a bottle or ten. Who knew how trashed I would be by the time I left here.
The bathroom door opened and shut behind me, and the place quieted down noticeably.
I leaned on the bar and dropped my forehead onto a crooked arm. I groaned. “I’ll take two shots of whiskey and a beer. To start with.”
She whistled loud. “It must have been a hell of a night so far.”
I peeked up at her from my arm. “My dad is dead set. He won’t change his mind.”
The man who had exited the bathroom brushed my arm as he sat down on the remaining empty seat in the bar. I slow-blinked as the occupants of the place chattered on with gusto once more. I rubbed at my left ear with annoyance. They were damn loud.
“Did you put up a calm argument?” Gina questioned. She placed my two shots down in front of my face and lifted a beer from the cooler under the bar. It, too, was sat in front of me. “I told you that you needed to speak rationally to him.”
“I took your advice.” I bounced my forehead against my forearm twice and growled. “My father is an absolute overbearing, stubborn ass. I thought I almost had him, and then he put up the brick wall.”
There was a quiet grunt from the man next to me, the one who had brushed my arm. “Most fathers are a pain. I have one myself who I would categorize just as you did yours.” He paused, and stated, “Gina, I’ll take another beer, please.”
My attention perked as the man spoke. His accent was delicious. I’d never heard it before, and I had been many places in my twenty-four—almost twenty-five—years on this wretched war-torn earth. The tones of his voice were like honey and chocolate, each syllable fighting for the most delectable cadence.
My favorite bartender was breathless as she answered, “Coming right up.”
He must be a looker for her to act that way. She was the most married of married here on base. Thirty years of marriage, four children, and ten grandchildren. Gina was exactly what the marriage law had in mind when it was enacted almost one hundred years ago. A woman to help populate the earth again after we all but destroyed ninety percent of the population from war. A broodmare, for lack of a better term. But Gina actually loved her husband, and he loved her. They were a perfect match, even all these years later.
I sat up on my chair fully and lifted one of my shot glasses to the right. To the man who had sat down next to me. All I could see from under the bill of my ball cap was a deep gray suit. It appeared to be made of the finest material too. He was definitely corporate in that outfit, and a higher-up corporate, but I didn’t see many men who wore it quite so well. It fit him snug in his broad shoulders, and where he had unbuttoned the jacket, his white dress shirt was snug against a flat, trim stomach. His gray slacks hugged his thighs to perfection. The suit was indeed tailored to fit him; it was an extension of his powerful physique.
This man was rich in a world that lived in poverty.
He was everything my father hated.