“What do you think you were doing?” my father snapped like he had a sniper scope on his voice. “It’s humiliating enough that you signed up for a bachelorette auction, but the fact that my future son-in-law bailed you out with four million dollars? And why on Earth does Tobias Astor want you so badly that he would bid two million?”
The questions hit me in rapid-fire succession. Not that I had time to answer a single one. It was like being waterboarded with shame and judgment.
Josh and Ally, for once, kept their mouths shut. Like, legitimately shut. And that was saying something, considering Josh once argued with a bartender for twenty minutes about a "moodier" shade of rosé. But no—both of them stood there like background mannequins, eyes darting between my father and me like they were me
