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In awe, I take in the living room. It has two overstuffed steel blue couches, a long teak coffee table with black iron legs, and two cream and steel blue wing-backed chairs. Laura shepherds us into the kitchen where a catering crew is preparing food. The massive dark blue square island was stacked with white dishes, trays of silverware, crystal wine glasses, and several plates of appetizers. In the corner of the room near the terrace is a long table with a red linen tablecloth which held eight steamer trays. I swallowed hard. This was my engagement party.
“Let me see the ring,” Laura said.
“Mother, don’t fuss,” Foster said.
“I always wanted a daughter, and now I’ll have one. Go find your father.”
“Where is he?”
“Finishing up some work in his office. Let me enjoy my daughter.”
My heart clenched, knowing Laura was yet another person we were deceiving. She seemed truly happy that Foster was finally settling down. She would be devastated when we divorced. Foster disappeared down a long hallway while Laura chattered about our plans for the wedding. I really liked her, but she wasn’t the one Foster and I needed to convince.
I needed something to steel my nerves. “Can I please have a glass of wine?” I asked.
“Of course, dear.” Laura removed a glass from the group on the counter and took a bottle of white wine from the large stainless refrigerator, pouring me half a glass. I want to ask her to fill it up, but I preferred not to give my soon to be mother in law ideas that I would overindulge in alcohol. I sipped at the wine, relishing the fruity taste on my tongue.
Foster entered the kitchen with his father. Mason Black was an imposing figure with piercing bright blue eyes and silver hair. He was taller than Foster by about an inch. The resemblance between the two was uncanny, and I’m sure I was looking at Foster in twenty-five years. Foster put his arm around my shoulders.
“Father, let me introduce my fiancée, Paige Butler.”
Mason scrutinized me by narrowing his eyes. I wished I could shrink into Foster at that moment. Seconds later, Mason smiled, but he kept his lips together as he extended his hand.
“Young lady, congratulations. I thought my son would never be caught.”
“Mason, stop that,” Laura chastised.
He snorted, “Am I wrong? The boy is almost thirty-four. How lucky for you.”
Foster and his father exchanged knowing glances, and it dawned on me that Laura had no idea about the deal they had struck years ago. Yet another secret I would need to keep. They were starting to pile up. I felt uncomfortable and was saved when my parents arrived with Zane and Lana behind them. Laura fawned all over Lana, asking many questions about her pregnancy. The woman was easy to love. Mason, on the other hand, was hard to read, but he seemed happy to hold court with Hunter, Zane, my father, Jordan, Foster, and several of my soon to be husband’s friends.
The women stayed in the kitchen, chatting around the island. Rory, Emma, and my mother couldn’t get over the size of my ring, even though my friends had ones close in size. Foster had good taste. It was too bad this was all for show. The more my family and friends gelled with Foster’s, the worse I began to feel.
By late afternoon, the party started to break up. Lana was exhausted, and Foster offered the limo so Zane could take her home in style and comfort. It seemed my brother and fiancé had come to a truce. I was happy. We were the last ones to leave, and Laura sent us home with many leftovers and the promise we would come for brunch next Sunday. Mason was still aloof and standoffish, but I hoped that would fade as we got closer to our wedding.
“It seemed to go great,” Foster said as we slipped inside the limo.
“Yes, I think your father believed it.”
“He’s skeptical because I never mentioned you until a couple of weeks ago.”
“How long will that last?”
“Hopefully, not long. We just have to be convincing.”
“I think your kisses during the day were convincing.”
“I warned you. If we weren’t affectionate, my father would’ve known something wasn’t right. This might seem inappropriate to say, but I like kissing you.”
“It is inappropriate. This whole thing is inappropriate, but it’s a speeding train we can’t stop.”
“Eighteen months might seem like a long time, but it will go fast, and then you’ll be free of me.”
“It’s longer than eighteen months. It’s only June, and our wedding isn’t until September.”
“We have a lot to plan. Try not to think about how horrible I am.”
“I don’t think you’re horrible. I think you immerse yourself in work so much that your connection with other people is mechanical. What physical connections have you had lately? How long has it been since you had sex?”
