Chapter 3
Sherrian unconsciously curled her fingers in his palms as she waited for her aunt to say something. She felt a quick jolt to her system when Leo placed a reassuring hand over hers and somehow that steadied her.
“I know your mama,” Gloria’s eyes bored into his as if she was waiting for him to wilt.
“Do you?”
Sherrian had called and told her aunt about the upcoming nuptials. Her aunt had demanded that they present themselves at her home for afternoon tea. She had proceeded to call Leo and caught him just as he was coming out of a meeting.
“I am sorry, but she wants it to be today.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“I really appreciate this.”
They had made the trip with her regaling him with stories about some of her eccentric customers.
“Yes!” Gloria stared at him closely. “She’s living in the UK now, is that correct?”
“Yes, she is.”
“You keep in touch?”
“We do, yes.” He was amused by the questions and the woman’s relentless expression. They had been escorted into the shabby blue and white salon with the heavy antique furnishings and heavy gold colored drapery. Sherrian had warned him about the state of the place and her aunt’s eccentricity.
“And you met my niece, when?”
“Two years ago.” He felt Sherrian’s fingers digging into his palms and used his own to uncurled hers.
“You knew her when she was engaged to that worthless loser?”
He frankly did not know how to respond to that. “I,…”
“He did.” Sherrian firmed her lips and lifted her chin, making him want to rush to her rescue. He had spent an agonizing night wondering if he was doing the right thing. But this moment, this very moment, he knew he wanted to slay dragons for her.
Gloria waved away the housekeeper who had come in to see if they needed anything else. “And pray tell, why did you choose that - that person over him?” She jerked a head towards Leo.
“Auntie…”
“We met after she was engaged and became friends.” Leo intervened smoothly. He felt the tension in the woman seated next to him and wanted to end this uncomfortable discussion. “The good thing is that we are now, together!”
The woman stared at him for a beat and then nodded. “You’re right of course.” She looked at her niece. “You think I am being a nosy old woman, but the fact is – your father was my brother, and I lost him. He took care of me, when we were growing up with an abusive woman and a miserable drunken father.
That is who your grandfather was. He used his fists more often than he used his words and Milton shielded me as best as he could. I am obligated to take care of his only child.” She waved a hand again and picked up her tea. “The wedding will be held here.”
Leo felt when Sherrian tensed. “We thought we would just go on over to Las Vegas and have a quick ceremony.”
He received a frown for his effort. “You would deprive me from seeing my only relative taking her vows?”
“It was my idea.”
“Young people.” Sherrian was given a disapproving look. “The ceremony will be held here. I have a minister…”
“Michael..,” sheer desperation had her almost leaping from the chair. If Leo had not held her back, she would have jumped to her feet. “You remember him? He was ordained as a minister on the internet and would love to do the ceremony.” She had not contacted Michael yet, but she was certain he would agree.
“I thought you said you wanted to go to Las Vegas?” The frown had deepened as Gloria stared at the them.
“Plan B!” Leo again interjected.
“I am not certain that I approve of some random ordination over the internet. And isn’t he gay?”
“What difference does that make?”
Gloria frowned at the girl’s defiance but conceded gracefully. “It is your wedding and times have changed. I would like the ceremony to be held before I leave. So, next Saturday should be fine. It is not yet too cold out. We will have it in the garden. A nice outdoor ceremony should be lovely.
I will make all the arrangements and call you with the details.” She gave her niece a critical glance. “Do something with your hair my dear and I am springing for the wedding dress. You are marrying a man of immense worth, you need to look the part.”
Dragging her hand away from his, Sherrian fisted it on the arm of the chair. “I am not wearing white.”
Gloria's eyes flashed with both amusement and disapproval. "I never said anything about white, Sherrian. But it is your wedding, and we must maintain some decorum," she said, her tone softening slightly. "Perhaps an ivory or a pastel shade, but definitely something elegant."
Sherrian drew a deep breath, unsure whether to be relieved or exasperated. Leo squeezed her hand gently, grounding her once again. "We'll consider it, Aunt Gloria," she managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt.
“Another thing. Your fiancé is quite adept at business.” She turned her gaze towards Leo, an incisive look on her face. “I admire your business acumen. You have managed to make something of yourself, by accomplishing the American Dream.”
She turned to her niece. “You will be getting a substantial part of my resources. I met with my lawyer just a day ago and my banker as well as my thieving accountant and I was told that it amounts to more than eight million dollars.
“This house…” She looked around the dingy and depressing room with a snort. “If one can call it that of course, it will be sold. It belonged to my third husband’s family and there was a codicil that prevented me from selling before now. I am going to find myself a small cottage somewhere near here and live out the rest of my days peacefully.”
She pierced her niece with her eyes. “I have heard the grandiose plans you have for the little shop and while I approve and admire ambition, I worked too hard to see my money thrown to the winds. Your husband will have control of most of it and will make certain that you are not pissing your inheritance away.”
“Aunt Gloria!”
“Ms. Watson…”
“Quiet, both of you.” She ordered imperiously. “I might be a doddering woman going into her seventies, but I am not a fool. I would like to see this marriage flourish. I expect the two of you to be living in the same home. I will quickly visit when I get back to see how settled you are.”
She stared at her niece. “I know how broken you were over what that bastard did to you, and I realized that afterwards you stopped dating. This is a second chance, and I want you to take it. You get my money, but you also get my input. Now!”
She clapped her hands. “Next Saturday, at ten in the morning. Time for you to go on your honeymoon after.”
*****
He allowed her the silence as they made the journey back to her place and knew she was fuming.
“I’m sorry,” she finally muttered. He glanced over briefly as he made the turn and saw that she was looking out the window. She looked so miserable and defeated, he wanted to stop the vehicle and take her into his arms. Inside he was gleeful. The old woman had unwittingly given him a gift. It was just up to him to do the rest.
“For?” He asked mildly. Night was descending and he was surprised to realize they had been at her aunt’s place for more than two hours.
“Involving you in all of it. This was supposed to be simple. We go off to Vegas to find some dingy and completely disreputable chapel and pretend to get married.”
“You should have realized that as her only living relative, your aunt would want to see you tying the knot.”
He stopped the car just inches away from her porch steps. The place was lovely, if a little neglected, and he had in the past, often wondered why she chose to live away from her aunt. Meeting the woman, he could understand why.
“She’s an interfering old bat.” Fury came just then, and he watched fascinated as she fisted her hands into her hair and tugged. “Planning the wedding and placing you in charge of the money.
Hard earned, my ass. All she did was marry three men with the resources and managed to outlive all of them, well, except Uncle Tony and he paid through his damn nose.” She turned to face him, dark eyes flashing. “I refuse to be handled.”
He gave her a mild look. “And I am not in the habit of handling women.”
She had the grace to look ashamed. “God! I am behaving like a world class bitch, when you are the one going out of your way in doing me this favor.”
“No comments there!” He smiled slightly at her flashing eyes.
She felt the anger and frustration draining away. She had brought him in, and it was not fair to take her anger out on him. “The honeymoon…”
“I was thinking Italy and Paris,” he interjected smoothly. “We could make it a working one. I have business interests in both places, and you could explore the various cafes and restaurant and get some ideas about their cuisine. Your aunt expects a honeymoon, so we do not want to disappoint her.”
She stared at him with a frown. “Why are you being so accommodating? If word gets out and it probably will, this will not bode well for you. As my aunt said, you are a man of immense means, and this could ruin your reputation.”
He smiled at that and turned to face her. If he told her now that he had fallen for her all those years ago, she would take off running. It was not time. He could wait or at least, hope he could. “I told you why I am doing this. I am sick and tired of women chasing me for what I can give them. With this, I get to be off the market, so to speak.”
She eyed him for another few minutes before shrugging. “Just promise me that if this gets too weird, you will let me know.”
“Done.”
She brooded for another minute as he watched her. “How many rooms in your townhouse?”
“Four suites in total.”
“Suites?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She blew out her breath. “We won’t get in each other’s way.”
They stepped out of the car and walked up the porch steps in silence. He could feel her hesitation, the weight of the situation pressing down on them both. As they reached the door, she paused and turned to him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt or reluctance.
"Thank you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."
He nodded, offering her a reassuring smile. "We're in this together. We will make it work."
She unlocked the door, and they entered the dimly lit hallway. The house felt empty, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling around them. She led him to the living room, where they sat down on the worn-out sofa, the silence between them heavy with unspoken words.
"I never imagined it would come to this," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "Pretending to be married, planning a honeymoon... It is all so surreal."
He reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're doing what we have to do. For your aunt, and for you. We will get through this."
She looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude and something else - something deeper, more vulnerable. "I don't know what I would do without you," she confessed, her voice breaking.
He felt a surge of protectiveness and affection for her, wanting nothing more than to ease her burden and make her smile again. "You don't have to worry about that," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
For a moment, they sat there in the quiet, their hands clasped together, drawing strength from each other's presence. The future was uncertain, filled with potential pitfalls and challenges, but in that moment, they both knew they could face it together.
She took a deep breath and leaned back against the sofa, her tension slowly easing. "So, Italy and Paris, huh?" She said with a small smile. "I guess it could be worse."
He chuckled, relieved to see her mood lightening. "It could definitely be worse. And who knows? Maybe we will even enjoy ourselves."
She laughed softly, the sound like music to his ears. "Maybe we will."
During the drive home, Leo felt himself reflecting on the evening. He had left her place with the assurance that she would contact him.
As Leo drove through the quiet streets, he could not help but replay their conversation in his mind. The gravity of their situation was undeniable, but there was also a newfound sense of resolve between them. It was as if, amidst the uncertainties, they had found something solid to hold onto - each other.
He pulled into his driveway and turned off the engine, sitting in the car for a moment, allowing the evening's events to sink in. His thoughts drifted to the upcoming trip. Italy and Paris were more than just destinations; they were a chance to escape, to create memories that might help them navigate the complexities awaiting them back home.
Leo stepped out of the car and entered his house, the familiar surroundings providing a semblance of comfort. He headed to the kitchen, poured himself a glass of water, and leaned against the counter. The quiet of the night enveloped him, contrasting sharply with the whirlwind of thoughts in his head.
His phone buzzed on the counter, breaking the silence. He picked it up and saw her name on the screen. A small smile tugged at his lips as he read her message: "Thank you for tonight. I feel like I can breathe a little easier now. See you tomorrow?"
Leo typed a quick response, his fingers moving with newfound ease. "Always here for you. Sleep well, and yes, see you tomorrow."
He set the phone down and made his way to the living room, sinking into his favorite armchair. The weight of the day slowly lifted, replaced by a quiet determination. They had a plan, uncertain as it might be, and they had each other. That, he knew, was more than enough to face whatever lay ahead.
As he closed his eyes, thoughts of Italy and Paris filled his mind, painting a picture of hope and possibility. Maybe, just maybe, this journey would be the start of something beautiful.
*****
“You didn’t have to come over.” The exasperation was evident in her voice as she opened the door to admit him. She was not in the mood for Michael’s theatrics tonight.
“Of course, I did.” He swept in, bringing the frigid air with him and with his usual flourish shrugged out of his coat and hung it on the tree in the entryway. “I brought wine.”
“What the hell for?” She grumbled as she stomped into the living room where she had turned on the heat.
“To celebrate.” He eyed her as he placed the bottle on the center table. “There I was, languishing in my room and brooding about another date gone completely wrong, when you called.” His eyes brightened.
“You made my night. Now I need deets. On the way over, I looked up the gorgeous Leo Coleman.” He draped himself over the arm of a comfortable sofa. “Man of the hour – or rather man of the year.
Self-made multi-billionaire who takes over smaller companies without prejudice of course and turn them into money making machines. He has been photographed with sheiks, royalties, and politicians, I would say he is not discriminatory there.
And he has been with some unbelievably beautiful women. Actresses for the most part. He has an interest, or his company has interests in some very rewarding and highly grossed films, hence the leaning towards actresses.”
He eyed her closely. “I recalled you saying that you met him or rather bumped into him outside your place of business, and he came in soon after and offered you some considerable business. My question is this and it has been bugging the living daylights out of me – why is he agreeing to this remarkable charade?”
His monologue had unwittingly sent her into deep despair.
“He wants off the marriage market.”
“Oh?” Michael simply stared at her with raised brows.
“Oh, do not look at me like that. I am as stumped as you are. We are both benefitting from all of it.”
“I get that you will be reaping the rewards, it just seems to me that the gorgeous money man is getting the short end of the stick.” He grinned at her glare.
“No reflection on you darling, but his willingness to do this, leaves me feeling …, let us use the word, curious, shall we? The man can get any woman or man he wants, including me…,” he sighed dramatically.
“Pity he is a heterosexual male. All the good ones are taken. And you told me your aunt wants a semblance of a real wedding. A wedding at her drafty place, which – my God, that is a setting more for a funeral than a wedding. The Garden Home would have been more appropriate, all that wonderful space and beautiful flowers.”
“It’s not a real ceremony, remember?”
Michael grunted. “Isn’t it?”
“No!” She fisted her hands in her hair and tugged.
“Darling, you are going to pull all those gorgeous tresses out by the root and give yourself a migraine. The only thing that is not going to be real about it is the fact that I am not an ordained minister. Did she believe you?”
“After some convincing, yes.”
“And you are going on this ‘honeymoon’? Paris and Italy. Two of the most romantic cities in the world. I know your man has businesses in those places and everywhere else…”
“He’s not my man.”
He simply harrumphed. “And you are moving in with him. I have seen his townhouse in ‘Gorgeous living, and it makes my humble abode, looks – well, humble. Antique furnishings, lots of open spaces, lovely, treated wood floor, a kitchen that will send you into orgasmic heaven and pricey artworks.
He has an indoor pool and a kick you in the crotch gym.” He smiled at her lifted brows. “I always read up on gorgeous rich men in case they happen to sway my way. Unfortunately for me, he does not. The honeymoon…”
“Stop calling it that.” She snapped. “He suggested it because Aunt Gloria mentioned it. And he mentioned that I might be interested in scoping out some restaurants and cafes. He is calling it a business trip.”
“I see.” Michael pursed his lips and kept his thoughts to himself, realizing that she would not want to hear them. “So, the wedding dress.”
Sherrian rolled her eyes. “I told Aunt Gloria that I would not be wearing white.”
“White is so – yesterday.” He gave her a critical once-over with experienced eyes. “A stunning morning dress of lime green or pale peach. Snug, showing off those curves you like to hide. Your hair should be loose. I have just the man for it and the makeup of course…,” he shook his head as she opened her mouth.
“In order for it to look real, you have to act the part and dress for it. I will be responsible for the dress because you have no fashion sense, and it will be my gift to you!” He shook his head again. “I will not be taking ‘no’ for an answer.
Consider it my part in helping you out.” He gave her a sympathetic look. “Consider what you will be getting at the end of it. Your own shop to do with as you please. Your ideas have merit, and you demonstrated it so clearly that I can see it in my mind’s eye. It is going to look gorgeous when it’s finished.”
She got up and started pacing. “But the sacrifice, what the hell am I doing?”
He started to say something but thought better of it.
“He did not have to do it.”
She whirled to face him. “And that what is so troubling to me. He is doing all of this for me, and it feels like I am doing nothing in return. I hate being in someone’s debt.”
“Don’t I know it.” He muttered and rose. “Let’s get a lot of wine in us, shall we? I want to discuss the bouquet…”
“It’s not a real wedding!” She called after him and only got a wave of hand as he left the room.