At that, I grimace.
“Neither. He did it in the middle of dinner.”
Dani’s jaw drops, and she doesn’t even pretend to clean anymore. “No, he did not.”
I nod ruefully.
“Afraid so. And he made a huge scene, stormed out, and left me crying in the hallway of the hotel.”
My friend gasps, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.
“Oh my God! What a dick. How could he do that? In the middle of dinner? It must have been horrible.”
I nod, still sweeping away.
“I know right? Corey had a meltdown about his food being cold, and when I tried to calm him down, he threw a breadbasket onto the floor like some kid having a tantrum. It was humiliating and I thought I was going to die because everyone was watching.”
Dani looks horrified.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry to hear that, but I’m glad you seem to be okay. Honestly, I never really liked your ex because he was a total jerk. Did you know that he always used to come in and demand free milkshakes just because you’re the manager?”
I hadn’t known that, but it’s not surprising because Corey’s a snobbish prick. He always thinks he should get special treatment because in his mind, he’s better than other people.
“Yeah, what a loser. I’m better off for sure because guys like that have a lot of growing up to do.”
Dani nods in agreement before turning back to scrubbing the counter. “So if you two broke up and he ruined the wedding for you, why are you in such a good mood today?” she asks in a hesitant voice. “I mean, I would be at home crying my eyes out.”
I smile to myself while sweeping the floor.
“What, can’t I just be happy?”
“Oh no no no, nothing like that. It’s just that the events of last weekend were so crazy, but you’re positively dancing on air. Spill, girlfriend, because something else must have happened. I know you too well, Care.”
I giggle while holding my hands up.
“Fine, fine. You’ve forced it out of me, I guess. I met someone.”
Dani blinks. “Are you serious? When?”
“At the wedding, of course,” I chirp.
She stares at me.
“Holy fuck, you move fast girlfriend, but good for you. Was it a groomsman? Or maybe a hot waiter? Please, tell me it wasn’t one of the choir singers.”
I laugh. “No no, none of those.”
She shakes her head, still amazed at my resilience. “You deserve a rebound, girl. But who then? The priest himself? I’ve heard those guys with the white collars are good, even if it’s going against their vows.”
Okay, this is getting too ridiculous and I giggle.
“No, not that, you silly girl. It was with my friend Zora’s dad.”
Dani’s silent for a moment, just staring at me.
“You mean, Zora Cahill, the bride?” she asks in a confused voice. Zora’s come around Frosty Freeze a few times, so she and Dani have met.
“Yep,” I say in a pert tone. “Her dad.”
Dani’s still staring at me, her hands still on the rag.
“No way. Wouldn’t he be, like, fifty?”
I nod.
“Maybe, but he’s really hot. I don’t know his actual age, but he doesn’t look like a regular dad. There’s no dad bod on this guy because he’s absolutely gorgeous and definitely works out a lot.”
Dani lets out a whistle, looking impressed.
“Damn girlfriend, good for you. A hot older guy. Very nice. I need to get me one of those.”
I giggle. “Yeah, Preston’s pretty built.”
To my surprise, my friend freezes with a shocked expression. “Wait, Preston. As in Preston Cahill?”
I give her a quick nod.
“Yeah, why?”
Dani just shakes her head. “Carolyn, do you live under a rock? You don’t know who he is?” Quickly, she types his name into her phone and hands it to me. There are tons of articles about Preston, and not only that, but there are dozens of photos of the older man looking extremely dashing in a dark suit. With a trembling finger, I click on one headline that catches my eye: Top Ten Hottest Billionaires in NYC.
Blinking, I scroll through the list. Billionaire? There’s no way this is the same Preston because Zora lives very modestly. She’s never alluded to family wealth, nor to her dad being rich or anything like that. If anything, I thought she was just like me: a middle-class person from a middle-class family.
But obviously, I was wrong because it seems that Preston Cahill is a billionaire tycoon. He lives in New York City and owns an enormous company called Cahill Holdings dealing in all sorts of industries. Not only that, but there are dozens of glossy, beautiful women on his arm in these pictures, all of them trying to get their claws into the eligible bachelor.
Holy cow! Yet I’m the one who made love to him last weekend. I’m the one who enjoyed the billionaire’s kisses and caresses while melting against his solid chest. But he’s my friend’s dad and a veritable Prince Charming, it seems. So what do I do now?