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A shrewd look twinkled in Jocelyn’s eye, as if she knew something wasn’t right. “Does Roman know you’re meeting with us?”
“Mrs. Tate, I really don’t want to bring my marriage into my business. As I stated earlier, the reason I asked you here on my own terms is because I don’t want Roman’s name dragged into our arrangement.”
“It might be your business, but he’s also your husband.”
“And it’s my personal promise that I’ll pay you back,” Eliza insisted. “I always make good on my promises.”
“Yes, your vows mean something to you.” Jocelyn again frowned at her lap. “I only wish I could say the same about my son.”
“You warned me,” Eliza blurted.
Even before the words came out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. There’d been an unspoken agreement between Eliza and Jocelyn that they’d never speak of the moment in question ever again. The moment on her wedding day when, dressed in a beautiful white gown—paid for by the Tates, of course—Eliza had been warned by Jocelyn Tate that she was making a mistake.
The wedding had been in Vegas, much to the Tate family’s dismay. For their only son, they’d envisioned a grand country-club wedding. A big to-do with a guest list ten pages long and a bill to match. Eliza’s family had wanted the same for their daughter—or they would have if Eliza had taken the time to tell them she was getting married.
Everyone had assumed the whirlwind romance was due to an unfortunate accidental pregnancy. That Roman had knocked up Eliza, forcing the two to marry in a shotgun ceremony. However, when no baby came nine months later, a year later, ten years later, people stopped speculating and chalked up the union to a bizarre blip of fate.
Despite the clandestine nature of their elopement, Roman had decided to invite his parents along, never expecting they’d come. However, they had arrived toting a beautiful wedding dress in hand, a bouquet, a cake. Eliza had felt like a real bride. Until Jocelyn Tate approached as the wedding bells began to chime in the sticky-hot chapel and handed over a set of keys without speaking.
Eliza looked at them, confused.
“It’s not too late,” Mrs. Tate said. “I’ve only met you a handful of times, but I feel as if I know you. I know you’ll be faithful. You’re a hard worker. You will provide the lifestyle that Roman is looking for. That’s probably why he’s asked you to marry him.”
“That’s not true,” Eliza said. “I don’t have any money to my name. He’s marrying me because he loves me.”
“You might not be wealthy yet, but you recently landed a big job. What’s your starting salary?” Mrs. Tate formed the question as if she wasn’t really looking for an answer. “We both know you’ll do quite well. So does Roman.”
“But—”
“Do you think the timing is coincidental?” Mrs. Tate licked her lower lip, stalling. “Roman asked you to marry him days after you secured one of the most coveted jobs in the industry. There was an article on you in the Hollywood News—one of the women under thirty to watch.”
The cold, hard metal keys landed in Eliza’s hand. She could only stare at them.
“But I also know my son,” Jocelyn continued. “I know my husband, and in a way, Roman and Todd aren’t so very different.”
Eliza had been bewildered by her comment. Todd was a close-minded, rich, often cruel man. Her husband-to-be had an artist’s soul and a soft heart. He was marrying an immigrant, he loved the theater, he read poetry by night and played football by day. Roman was beautifully complex and wonderful and cared nothing for worldly things or money or fame. Eliza told Jocelyn all of it, that she was wrong.
“Things change,” Jocelyn said with a weak smile. “You deserve to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Eliza whispered. “I love Roman. More than anything.”
At the time, Eliza had meant it. Her mother-in-law seemed to understand. As soon as Eliza said those words, a light extinguished in Jocelyn’s eyes as she reached for the keys and plucked them from Eliza’s palm.
“Ah,” she said briskly. “I was afraid of that.”
Then she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Eliza’s forehead before leaving the back room and disappearing into the chapel to take a seat beside her husband.
Still reeling with confusion, Eliza had slipped the veil over her eyes and walked, unaccompanied, down the aisle to meet her husband. She and Jocelyn had never spoken of the moment again.
Until now.
Jocelyn’s eyes flashed. “Do you still love him?”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant to our business.”
“How much money do you need?”
“Sixty thousand dollars.”
