Читать книгу The Corporate Marriage Campaign - Leigh Michaels, Leigh Michaels - Страница 9

TREY hadn’t spent a lot of time in his life contemplating proposals—how the question should be phrased, what the best occasion to ask it would be, or even who he might want to address it to. He figured there would be plenty of time to consider all that, because he was thirty-two and not in the least anxious to settle down.

But there was one thing he would never have expected—that when the day came and he actually suggested to a woman that the two of them might become engaged, she would choke on her coffee and turn purple at the very idea of becoming Mrs. Andrew Patrick Kent the Third.

Stunned and a bit dizzy, maybe—he could understand that sort of reaction. Shedding tears of joy, perhaps. Completely unable to speak and having to indicate agreement by gesturing, even.

But asphyxiating in shock?

Of course the notion of being Mrs. Kent wasn’t what was actually sending Darcy Malone into coughing spasms at the moment. It couldn’t be, because he’d made quite clear that an actual marriage wasn’t what he was offering. She was gasping for air merely because he’d suggested she be his temporary fiancée.

And that made no sense whatsoever. Considering the number of women who’d angled for the position over the years, why was this one puffing in agony over the notion that she simply pretend for a while that she wanted the title?

“Darcy,” he said. “If you could stop this for a minute and just listen…”

“If I could stop…” She clutched both hands to her chest. Her voice was a barely understandable croak. “I would. Just go away, all right?”

“Not as long as you’re threatening to strangle. Here, have a drink of water.” He held a glass to her lips and she managed to sputter a few drops. Her coughs died down to a low wheeze, and he said, “There, that’s better.”

“Maybe it is from your point of view.” She leaned weakly against the counter.

“Look, I don’t understand what’s so awful about the idea. I’m not asking you to have my baby, you know.” He set the water glass down with a bump. “Most of the women I know would be flattered.”

“Which is precisely why you’re asking me, instead of one of them. Right?”

He nodded, relieved that she understood.

“Because I’m not fool enough to take you seriously. So there you have it.”

Trey frowned. “I guess that didn’t come out quite the way I intended it to.”

“Maybe you’ll figure out what I mean in a year or two. Or maybe I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and see how that comment is really a compliment to me. But I wouldn’t count on it.”

“If you’d just listen to what I have in mind, I think you’d see it differently,” he suggested. “There would be considerable advantages for you in this plan, you know.”

“Name two.”

“You need a job.”

“I’ll get one on my own, thanks. I’m perfectly well qualified.”

Her tone was a bit truculent, just enough to make him suspicious. Trey wished he’d thought to ask Dave exactly why she was unemployed at the moment.

“I could make it easy for you,” he said. “You said you’re applying to the Kentwells chain—”

“And what do you think my working conditions would be like on any job you could give me? I’m sure my new supervisor would be simply delighted to have an employee foisted on him by the boss.”

“I’m not stupid enough to make it obvious, Darcy.”

“And exactly how are you going to keep it from being obvious? Are you planning to make the announcement about hiring me before or after my picture is splashed all over the newspapers and the airwaves, standing next to you and choosing lamps for our bedroom? Do you really think your other employees can’t connect the dots and see what’s going on?”

“All right, then—I’ll get you a job somewhere else.”

“I told you, I’ll do it myself, on my own merits. I don’t need a handout.”

“Stubborn, aren’t you? Dave said you were.” Maybe that explained why she was here and not still wherever she’d been living. San Francisco—was that what Dave had told him?

“For a guy who’s supposed to be devoted to the principles of confidentiality, Dave talks too much.”

“You’re not his client. I am.”

“So he can talk to you about me, but he can’t tell me about you? Oh, that’s charming.”

“Unless we’re engaged. Then he can say pretty much whatever he wants because we’d be—in a sense—family.”

“In a sense,” she agreed. “You’re not giving this idea up, are you?”

“I think it’s the perfect arrangement.”

“What makes it so great—if I’m allowed to ask?”

“For one thing, sudden engagements are always suspicious, but—”

Darcy’s eyes widened. They were an odd shade of brownish-green, he noticed. Trey had never seen anything quite like them.

“What?” she gasped. “You’re saying you don’t believe in love at first sight?”

He ignored the irony dripping from her voice. “But since you’re my friend’s sister and not just some stranger, we could easily have met months or even years ago. You’ve lived out of town for a while, so that explains why my other friends haven’t met you or heard about you. But since I travel a fair amount, I could have been visiting you often. They’ll believe it.”

“Not just some stranger… That sounds like a great title for a made-for-TV movie.”

She said it under her breath, but there was no missing the fact that Darcy had gone past irony all the way into sarcasm, so Trey pretended he hadn’t heard her. “People will still be startled when I announce that I’m getting married, of course—”

“I don’t doubt that a bit.”

“But not as startled as they would be if I said I was engaged to someone they’d known all along.”

She nodded. “Someone you’ve obviously not been serious about before.”

He was making progress, Trey told himself. He could almost see the dents starting to show in her armor. “Right. You’re the unknown, so they’ll reserve judgment for a while. And it’s conceivable that I could have fallen in love with you, so—”

She rubbed her temple as if it hurt. “Gee, thanks. I feel so honored.”

Trey felt like swearing. What on earth had he said that was so terrible? She was easy on the eyes, she had a graceful walk, she projected a certain confidence even in ragged sweat clothes. If he could just surgically remove that sharp tongue, she’d be next door to perfect for the role. “I was paying you a compliment.”

“Drop it, Trey. You’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, here.”

“Anyway, the fact that we’re admitting we’ve only seen each other at random intervals will even help account for why the whole thing falls apart in the end—when we break off the engagement.”

“Because when we start spending lots of time together, we’ll realize we aren’t as compatible as we thought we were.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, that’s not hard for me to picture,” she said. “You really have thought of everything.”

“It’s not like this will last forever, Darcy.”

“But it will go on for a while.” She sighed. “Just for the sake of discussion, and not because I’m agreeing to anything, how long do you expect it would take?”

Trey stopped to calculate. “Two or three weeks.”

“How did you come up with that? I thought you said it was going to be a three-month long campaign.”

“Well, yes—we’ve bought ad space that far ahead. I mean it’ll be two or—more likely—three weeks for photography and production. We’ll have to start from scratch, you see.”

“And after the shooting’s done, everything just runs on autopilot?”

He frowned. “I suppose there would be the occasional public appearance, just to keep up the fiction, until the ads finished running.”

“That’s what I thought. Somewhere around Christmastime, in other words.”

“It’s not like it would be every day. Dave said there’s no one in your life, so—”

“And since I obviously don’t have anything better to do for the next few months, I might as well do this?”

“That isn’t quite the way I’d have put it, but…”

“Pardon me while I go ask my brother to refer me to a good attorney.”

Trey wrinkled his brow. “Dave is an attorney, Darcy.”

“Yes. But after I murder him, I’m going to need someone else to defend me.”

“Dave has only your best interests at heart. You’re at loose ends right now, and a job hunt may take months, especially since you’re not working at the moment. Employers always want to know what happened to the last job.”

She sighed as if she’d found that out the hard way.

Trey pushed his advantage. “I’m willing to compensate you for the time you spend with me.”

“Oh, thanks very much for making me sound like a call girl.”

“It’s nothing of the sort! You’d have a paying job right away, even if it’s not exactly what you’ve been applying for. And within a few weeks, by the time the photography’s all finished, I’m sure I can arrange something for you that’s closer to your field.”

“Any job you could possibly arrange for me would look very fishy.”

She had a point, and Trey had to admit it. “All right, if an easy-to-get job isn’t your thing, then what sort of bargain do you have in mind? There must be something you want.”

“You mean, if I could have anything at all?”

He noted a sudden gleam in her eyes. Greed, he thought. Or avarice. Or maybe just plain ambition. “Within reason,” he said warily.

“Then I want my own firm.”

He was waiting for her to say a million dollars, and so it took a few seconds for him to register what she’d actually demanded. “I said within reason, Darcy.”

“I think I’m being perfectly reasonable. I don’t want you to set me up with a Fortune-500-sized company. I just want my own, one-person graphic-design firm.”

“And you think it wouldn’t look suspicious if I was behind that?”

“Who’s going to know you’re behind it? I’m tired of working for other people. I’m tired of producing infinite variations of dull subjects. I want to be able to choose which projects I handle, and set my own work schedule.”

“Being in business for yourself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“It’s better than having to deal with a boss who’s been stuck with me against his will. You help me set up my office. Then after we break our engagement, the Kentwells chain hires me to create a new logo and—”

“Wait a minute here.”

“That will prove to everyone that we’re breaking up amicably, remaining friends despite the fact that the wedding didn’t work out. Then you can recommend me to the other firms you deal with, and we’ll be square.”

“That’s outrageous. In fact, it’s blackmail.”

“It’s business. Take it or leave it.”

“And if I leave it?”

Darcy shrugged. “That would be just fine with me. I’ll be no worse off than when I woke up this morning—except for the attack of acid indigestion you’ve caused me. And I’m sure you could find someone among the women of your acquaintance who would play along with the idea of being engaged and be much more enthusiastic about the role than I am.”

She had him there. They’d be too enthusiastic—that was the problem.

“One of Caroline’s friends might be willing to help you out.”

Trey couldn’t help wincing at the thought.

“And if Dave put his mind to it,” she went on thoughtfully, “he might even be able to write up a contract that’s watertight enough to keep her from suing you later on for changing your mind and dumping her. Mind you, I’m not promising anything of the sort, because then I’d be practicing law without a license, and Dave says I have to be very careful about that.”

Might. Trey didn’t feel like betting his life on Dave’s contract-writing skills. Which of course was exactly why Darcy had said it. Obviously Dave wasn’t the only member of the Malone family who specialized in twisted legal logic.

“If I agree to set you up in business,” he warned, “I’m going to expect a lot more than the occasional public appearance.”

Darcy didn’t miss a beat. “Really? What have you got in mind? You want me to have your baby after all?”

His mouth went dry at the thought. With horror, he told himself. “Heaven forbid the world should have a miniature version of you inflicted on it.”

Darcy smiled. “Now that’s really funny, because I was thinking precisely the same thing about you. Andrew Patrick Kent the Fourth—the poor child. What would you call him, anyway? Quatro?”

Trey decided to ignore her. “If I’m going to invest serious money in setting you up in business, you’d have to make yourself available whenever I needed you. And there would be no embarrassing incidents. No getting caught in a compromising position with some other guy.”

“Oh, that’s comforting. You mean I can do anything I want, as long as I don’t get caught—right?”

“Dammit, Darcy—”

“Oh, don’t worry. Remember? I’m just as skittish as you are—there’s absolutely no one in my life and no possibility that will change. So you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be too busy working on my new business to look around for men, anyway.”

He wished that felt like a benefit. In fact, the more she worked on her new business, he suspected, the more this was going to cost him. But what choice did he have? “Then we have a deal,” he said, and held out a hand.

She hesitated, and he found himself holding his breath. Then she reached out. Her palm was warm against his, her grip firm, her fingers steady.

Trey wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he was trembling himself. Which was totally ridiculous, of course. She’d agreed to the terms—hell, she’d set them herself, so she had nothing to complain about. Things were perfectly clear. It was absolutely, unquestionably a no-risk agreement.

So why did he feel like running?

Darcy had had no intention of agreeing. The proposition Trey had made was nothing short of ludicrous, but the only way to make him realize how silly he sounded had seemed to be to make her terms just as laughable as his were. So she’d fired back in similar terms, never dreaming that he might actually give in and accept them.

For a moment, when he’d offered to shake hands on the deal, she’d been tempted to back down—to withdraw the demand of a business of her own and take him up on the offer to help her find a job instead.

But all the arguments she’d given him earlier were valid ones. If he were to create a job for her, she’d go into it under a cloud. Though her skills and talents were real, a supervisor who was forced to hire her might never give her the chance to make good. If that were to happen, the working conditions could end up being every bit as bad as what she’d left behind when she came home to the penthouse.

And once Trey had found her a job, he would have fulfilled his end of the bargain, and he’d have no further obligation to help, no matter how unpleasant the situation in which she found herself. Meanwhile, she’d still have her promise to fulfill, even if it took months and months…

But what was she thinking? There was yet another option—a third choice, beyond making a deal for either a job or her own business. And the third alternative was the only sensible one. She should thank him for his offer and do her best not to laugh as she turned him down.

But she didn’t. Instead, as if she were mesmerized, Darcy found herself reaching out to him, actually agreeing to be his pretend fiancée for the next three months.

What in heaven’s name was wrong with her? She should have run, not let herself be talked into cutting a deal with Mr. Elegance. He was exactly what she didn’t need—another guy who was gorgeous and knew how to use it to his advantage…

No, she thought. This time would be different. This time, she was the one who would be doing the using.

She vaguely heard the creak of Dave’s office door opening, and only when she heard the murmur of approaching voices did she realize that she and Trey were still standing in the kitchen, hand in hand. She pulled away as quickly as she could.

But obviously Dave had already seen, for he said, “You’ve struck a deal, then? Good—I’ll get the paperwork written up.”

“Paperwork?” Darcy said. “You mean like a prenuptial agreement?”

Trey frowned at her.

“All right, a nonnuptial agreement, then,” Darcy muttered.

Dave had gone straight on. “I’ll draw up a simple contract. I’m glad we could help out, Trey.”

“What do you mean, we?” Darcy said. “Unless you’re going to be getting your picture taken, Dave, and making nice at social functions, I don’t think that your contribution is nearly as personal as—”

Caroline spoke up. “Speaking of social functions, will you be giving Darcy an engagement party, David?”

“It hadn’t crossed my mind, no.”

Darcy relaxed. At least Dave hadn’t totally lost his perspective.

Caroline frowned. “Then perhaps I’ll do it. I don’t think it matters who hosts it, really—does it, Darcy? I know showers are supposed to be given by friends, not by family members, but is there any rule about engagement parties?”

Was the woman serious? Hadn’t she gotten the message that this wasn’t real? Or was Trey planning to keep her in the dark, too?

Darcy decided to humor her for a bit and wait for Trey to speak up or Caroline to regain her senses. “Beats me. As long as we’re shopping for everything a couple needs for a wedding and a home, maybe we should start with an etiquette book so we can look up the rules.”

Caroline smiled, and then touched a careful finger to her upper lip where the skin had stretched wide and broken open once again. “Ouch, that hurt. But that’s a really good idea. Every bride should have an etiquette book on hand. I think this is going to be wonderful, Trey—Darcy has much more creative ideas than I do.”

“Yes,” Trey said, almost under his breath. “I’d already noticed how creative she is at getting what she wants.”

“I’ll start planning the party, then,” Caroline went on. “Surely by the weekend I’ll be able to appear in public, don’t you think? I’m a fast healer.”

Fast healer? Darcy wondered if that meant Caroline had experience in how long it took her to heal from facial blows, and suddenly she felt a little selfish at having thought only of the impact this agreement would have on her own life. If by playing this part for a while she could make Caroline’s life a little easier, spare her some embarrassment over her broken engagement, and help her pick up the pieces of a shattered dream so that she didn’t become involved with yet another abusive man somewhere down the line…

Now that’s a great motive, she told herself. It sounds so much nicer of me than simply blackmailing Trey Kent into setting me up in business…

Her head was obviously still spinning. How had she gotten herself so enmeshed in this? And why? That was the real puzzler. Certainly not to help Caroline, whom she didn’t even know, or Trey, whom she didn’t even like!

“This is wonderful,” Caroline bubbled. “It’s all working out better than anyone could have hoped. Just a couple of hours ago I thought I’d ruined everything, but now it’s going to be even better than I thought was possible.”

Trey was looking at his watch. “Caroline, about the district attorney—what have you decided to do?”

Caroline’s glee vanished. She took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him. And I’ll file charges.”

“Good.” Trey squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be right there with you all the way.”

There was a soft note in his voice that was unlike anything Darcy had heard before. She was still trying to sort out whether it was approval, support, warmth, love, or something else entirely, when he turned to her.

“Darcy, I’ll pick you up at six, and we can spend the evening going over the necessary details so you’ll be prepared for the shoot tomorrow.” Every hint of softness was gone.

“How considerate of you to ask whether that fits into my calendar,” she murmured, making no attempt to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “And here I expected maybe you’d be dictatorial about your plans.”

“I suppose we could go in without any preparation and just let the crew think we were too busy making love to bother to talk,” Trey said.

Darcy noticed her brother biting back a grin, and glared at him. “Six will be fine.”

“I thought it would,” Trey murmured.

Irritated, Darcy struck back. “Now you must run along and get busy, darling,” she said sweetly, “because you’ll need to make all the money you possibly can, in order to provide for me.”

When Trey arrived at the cottage on the dot of six o’clock, Darcy was still struggling to make the computer print out a will she’d been working on most of the afternoon. “Have a seat while I finish,” she told him. “Dave needs this first thing in the morning.”

He sat on the corner of the desk, right next to her, rather than in the chair she indicated. “Word processing isn’t exactly your top skill?”

“If you’re trying to make the point that I’d be happier doing graphic arts instead of wills, don’t bother. We all know that already.” She pushed a key and the printer wheezed, sucked in a sheet of paper and stopped dead.

“What’s the rush with the will?” Trey said.

“Since it’s not your will, that information is confidential.” Darcy tried the print command again, but the printer refused to budge. “Okay, I get the message. Maybe it just needs to pout for a while. I want to be home early anyway because it’s been a very long day. So I’ll come back and finish this up later.” She closed the file and turned off the computer. “Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to change clothes?”

Darcy glanced at her slacks and sweater. “Why? Where are we going? Because if you’re planning to take me someplace swanky, I’d suggest you think again.”

“There will be some formal events along the way, you know,” Trey warned. “If you’re not comfortable with that, we’ve got a problem.”

“Oh, I can handle swank—as long as you provide the clothes. I just meant that you surely don’t want to talk about all this at one of your regular hangouts and risk being overheard by your friends.”

“Good point. Where do you suggest?”

She looked him over thoughtfully. “There’s a little bar a few blocks down. It’s noisy enough that nobody can be overheard, and dark enough not to be noticed—that is, if you lose the tie and borrow one of Dave’s windbreakers to replace the suit coat. Try the back of his office door.”

When he came back, he was shrugging himself into an oversized black jacket emblazoned in huge yellow letters with the name of the college where Dave had gotten his law degree. “This isn’t exactly what I’d call anonymous. I bet it glows in the dark.”

“It’ll fit into the crowd at Tanner’s better than that suit would.”

“You’re sure Dave won’t mind me borrowing it? Where is he, anyway?”

“I don’t know. He left an hour or so ago and said something vague about having an appointment.”

He helped her into her raincoat. Darcy checked her pockets for keys and emergency funds and locked the door of the cottage behind them.

His car was parked directly in front. It was—of course—a fire-engine-red sports car that Darcy’s gut said had cost at least twice as much as her entire college education. Men are so predictable… “Oh, boy,” she said. “How many miles does this baby get per gallon of testosterone?”

“I have no idea,” Trey said coolly. “It belongs to Caroline.”

“All right,” she admitted cheerfully. “I leaped to conclusions there and missed the pier entirely. So what do you drive—a Rolls-Royce that matches your suit?”

“Depends on the day.”

Darcy had to admit that despite herself she was impressed—certainly not by the fact that he owned multiple cars, but because he didn’t seem to want to brag about it. “How did you and Dave become friends, anyway? Somehow the two of you just don’t seem the type to be bosom buddies.”

“Because he has a motorcycle and I don’t?”

Darcy chalked that up as a fact to remember. “I’ve never heard him mention your name.”

“We met in the frat house in college. Lost track of each other after that, and we didn’t run into each other again until a college reunion a year or two ago.”

“When I’d already gone to San Francisco.”

“I guess it must have been. What were you doing out there, anyway?”

“Graphic arts,” she said crisply. “How long have you been with the stores?”

“About two years. I stayed out East after grad school and worked for a couple of different firms, but then my dad had a heart attack and had to retire, so I came home to take over.”

“How does he feel about you being in charge?”

“He died six months ago,” Trey said.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“No reason you should.”

That, Darcy thought, was not quite true, even though the name probably wouldn’t have had personal meaning for her. But six months ago she’d been living in a fog where nothing much had made an impression. Six months ago, she might not even have noticed Trey Kent if he’d crossed her path.

No, she thought. No matter what else was going on in her life, it would be impossible for any woman to ignore Mr. Elegance.

“Where are we going, again?”

Darcy had gotten so sidetracked into thinking about Trey that she had to stop to think. “Tanner’s—it’s a couple more blocks down. There’s parking out front.” Belatedly she remembered what he was driving. “Unless you’d rather leave the car with a valet at the hotel down the street.”

“No, it’ll be fine. This car has such an elaborate alarm system it’ll slap handcuffs on anybody who tries to touch it, long before the cops have a chance to show up.”

Just inside the front door of the bar, she paused to look around. “There’s a free booth—I’ll grab it, if you want to go get the drinks. Just an iced tea for me, please.”

The booth was in a corner, well away from both the door and the bar, and she had to work her way through a fair-sized crowd to get there. Halfway there, she heard someone calling her name and turned to see a friend of Dave’s leaning against the pool table.

“What brings you back to town, Darcy?” he asked. “Dave isn’t sick or something, is he?”

“He’s fine, Joe.”

“Well, I haven’t seen him around much. And last I heard you were hanging out in San Francisco with Pete Willis.”

Darcy kept her voice even, but it took an effort. “That’s old news, I’m afraid.”

“You and Pete called it quits? Well, let me buy you a beer and you can bring me up-to-date. Must be a year since I’ve seen you.”

Behind him, Trey said levelly, “She’s drinking iced tea, and she’s with me tonight.”

Joe cocked his chin forward. “I don’t see any ownership tag hanging around her neck. No ring on her finger.”

“Check again tomorrow and you might be surprised,” Trey said. He stepped between them.

“Later, Joe,” Darcy called. She took her iced tea and considered dumping it over Trey’s head. Which was surely an odd reaction, considering that she was relieved to have Joe’s interrogation short-circuited. Still, just because Joe asked questions didn’t mean she intended to answer them, and it wasn’t up to Trey to decide who she talked to. “You want to tell me what that was all about—besides disgustingly primitive primate behavior?”

“He was hassling you.”

“He was asking how I was.”

“Who’s Pete Willis?”

“Oh, is that what’s bothering you? He’s the man I worked with in San Francisco. Nobody you need to be worried about.”

“He’s not going to be coming around wanting to hire you back?”

“Not in this lifetime.” Her voice was steady. “Let’s get our business taken care of before Joe has another beer and decides to find out whether you can whip him.”

Trey seemed only mildly interested. “Who are you worried about coming out the worse for wear—him or me?”

“Neither. I don’t want Dave to have to come bail everybody out of jail, because I’ll end up doing the paperwork. Tell me about the ad campaign.”

Trey leaned back against the vinyl seat. “Since we’d already started with Caroline and Corbin, the ad department is having to revamp the entire shooting schedule.”

“Corbin. What a name.”

“It fits him. The idea is to minimize setup time for each photo by working through the store in a logical way, not necessarily in the same order the ads will appear. We’ll do the engagement ring tomorrow, of course, because that’s the first ad which will run and they need the art right away. But then we may do household linens and lawn furniture, because they’re in the same section of the store. You know how the departments are laid out in sort of a rough circle.”

“Actually,” Darcy said, “no, I don’t. I haven’t been in a Kentwells store in years.”

Trey blinked in surprise. “Oh, of course. All our stores are in Chicago, and you’ve been out west.”

She said, very slowly, “Yes.” It was true, as far as it went. And there was no point in alienating him by telling the whole truth—that she’d always preferred to do her shopping with Kentwells’s competition. You wouldn’t volunteer that information if you were interviewing for a job, she reminded herself. This isn’t much different.

“We’ll have to start early in the morning,” he warned. “There’s still a lot of prep work to be done because we’re starting from scratch with you.”

Starting from scratch… “You’d better smile when you say that, partner. I’m not exactly in the frame of mind to play Cinderella.”

Trey sighed. “I do keep putting my foot in my mouth, don’t I? I just meant that the clothes which were chosen for Caroline won’t work for you, and the hairstyle and makeup you need will be much different, too.”

A woman in a white jacket deposited a pizza on the table between them and went away without a word. Trey looked at it in puzzlement. “Did we order this?”

“Sort of. It’s my standing order—I just wave at Jessie in the kitchen whenever I come in.” She took a paper plate from the stack on the table and slid a steaming wedge onto it. “Try it, it’s the best hand-thrown pizza in town. Since you brought up Caroline, I had a question. She does understand this is all made up, right?”

“Of course.”

“Because she seems to be a bit of a dreamer. She’s not serious about the engagement party, is she?”

“Of course she is. The best way to make it convincing is for everyone around us to act as if it’s real. Caroline throwing a party, Dave giving a toast to the happy couple—it all adds a touch of reality.” He helped himself to a slice of pizza. “Now—let’s get down to business. Tell me everything I could possibly need to know about my wife-to-be.”