“Oh, I did,” I say, ensuring my tone is light.
Bobbi cuts into the cake. Everyone gets a piece.
“God, this is like mouth porn,” Nate says.
I agree after a bite. “This is incredible, Bobbi. Thank you. You did an amazing job.”
“I’m glad you’re happy.” Bobbi hugs me. “I wanted it to be special for you.”
Behind her, Tony’s checking his phone and frowns a little.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Somebody’s at the gate,” he says.
A few moments later, the doorbell rings.
Finally! All my anxiety and annoyance over Declan evaporate. Before anybody can move, I trot toward the door, eager to have him join the party. He’s going to apologize sheepishly for being late, and I’ll forgive him after a minute of consideration designed to make him squirm a little. That’ll be my little revenge for his tardiness.
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When I reach the door, I realize I’m still holding the plate of cake and a fork. I balance them in one hand and open it.
“Decla…” I trail off.
It’s not Declan at the door. It’s some man I’ve never seen before. There’s something slightly smarmy and artificial about him. It’s the teeth. They’re so huge and white, I feel blinded.
“Sorry we’re late.” His breath is minty enough that my eyes water. “A mild traffic jam, but your car’s here.”
“My car?” Did Eugene send me a car? But he knows I don’t drive. Besides, if he sent me a car, why did he say our lawyer would get in touch?
“Isn’t this the right address for Yuna Hae?”
“Well… Yeah,” I say, although technically it’s Ivy and Tony’s home.
My friends come stand behind me. I see Mom out of the corner of my eye.
“A pink Rolls for the most wonderful lady in the world. From Mr. Declan Winters.” The man does a ta-da gesture at the car with both arms.
I slowly step toward it. It’s a stunning coupe convertible in a gorgeous, dreamy pink. It even has a giant bow on the hood.
“Holy shit, the color’s better than what Dane chose for Sophia,” Nate whispers.
I crane my neck, a desperate hope flickering in my heart. Declan’s probably hiding behind the car, ready to jump out with flowers and hug me, so I can tell him how much I love it. But no. Nobody’s behind the car or next to the car or under the car or anywhere around the car.
It’s just this convertible.
And what the hell am I going to do with this thing, anyway? I can’t drive it, and I can’t have a chauffeur for it, either. It isn’t for that sort of arrangement.
“That’s some gift,” Mom says, her voice neutral. She loves me too much to rub it in my face, even if she now gets to set me up with that man she wants me to meet so much.
My whole body is shaking. I realize I’m holding the plate so hard that the tips of my nails have turned white.
Rage builds like a storm. Air inside my lungs is hot and painful. I expel it with effort, then stomp down on a furious scream that’s welling inside my chest.
Declan sent me a fucking car. After he said he’d be here. He promised. I still have his text!
I guess whatever meeting he has is really important—it’s his career. But my birthday is one day out of three hundred and sixty-five. And he only needs to be here for about an hour, that’s it. A tiny sliver of his year.