29. Chapter 29
Chapter 29
Marcy
Parental deception sure was a mood killer.
I felt horrible. Any excitement over my bakery wafted into the night as the foul stench of betrayal settled over. But we couldn’t wallow long. Canceling for tonight would look bad for Patrick and the campaign, and a mere few weeks remained before election day.
Worse, the dress I planned to wear was bought and paid for by Janine Strauss. She’d called me earlier in the week asking if I needed a new gown and offered her credit card. My instinct said no, but she’d let on this was a black-tie event, which honestly, how did anyone translate that to gowns when the nomenclature related to menswear? I vented to Hudson about it over text—she was up north again this week—and she told me to stuff it and take the woman up on her offer.
So I did. Now I had a dress bought with dark money.
I couldn’t wear ripped jeans to the event, so on the dark garment went. I’d chosen a modestly priced gown that I found quite stunning. Black with a deep-V neckline that cinched at the waist, the skirt hung in satin layers of varying lengths, like very elegant long ruffles. The straps crisscrossed at the back in a way that demanded bralessness. No way on the chicken cutlets.
Patrick whistled low when I emerged. “You look amazing.”
I took back any complaints over black tie. Patrick looked fabulous. I ran my hand along his tailored sleeve, feeling the muscle beneath. “Is this new?”
“I wore it to the Richenbacher event.” He scowled at the memory.
“Ah, the Richenbacher event!” I said in a hoity-toity voice. He threw me a pity grin for trying to cheer him up. “Maybe your parents won’t show.”
“Yeah, I wish. I’m not sure I can see them and not lose it. I have no idea what I might say.”
I kissed him, meaning for it to be quick, but he caught me around the back and pulled me closer, kissing more deeply. “I’m so glad I have you,” he said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
My throat swelled with emotion. “I’m so sorry this is happening with your parents. Should we ignore them when we see them? You know what? We should ditch this gig after all and stay in.”
He grinned. “Tempting.”
But in the end, we were rule followers (despite our obvious farce) and drove to the event.
Now at the venue, we headed to the front doors. “What’s this charity for again?” I sort of lost track and asked Patrick to just tell me the day and time and fill me in on the way. Only we’d filled the drive with talk of the latest developments in the Top Duchess reality show, a useful distraction. The show was quickly becoming a hate-watch for both of us.
He bent toward my ear. “Honestly, I can’t remember. Don’t tell anyone.”
A welcome giggle escaped as we progressed through the lobby. A woman dressed in black stood near a closed ballroom door. “Patrick Strauss? Marcy Russo? ”
“Yes, that’s us,” I confirmed.
She knocked at the door and waited. A moment later, the heavy doors swung open.
“Quite the royal treatment,” Patrick quipped as we progressed in.
All at once, a cascade of voices erupted. “SURPRISE!”
Clapping and wooting sounded throughout the room as faces stared directly at us. Many familiar faces. My parents. My brothers. Nonna and her lunch ladies. Members of our family’s church. Great aunts and uncles.
“Wha…what?” I clung to Patrick. “What’s my family doing here? What is the surprise?”
He appeared equally shocked. “I don’t know.”
“Surprise! It’s your engagement party!” Mamá waved her hands in the air and cha-cha’ed toward us in heels she’d definitely ditch after pictures.
“OH.” I spoke loudly. I squeezed Patrick’s arm so hard he grunted.
“So you didn’t know about this?” he asked fiercely under his breath.
My responding look disintegrated his question. “You think?”
“It’s going to be fine,” he said, finally understanding I was panicked more than surprised.
I blinked, catching sight of Hudson and Lucas. What in the… Why would they not tell us we were about to be ambushed? And not just them, but Jillian and her fiancé Adam were here too. And Noah. She was here all the way from Chicago?
I marched straight toward my friends. “Traitors? Should I call you that?” I didn’t want to be mad, but what the heck?
“Your nonna swore you’d be fine with this.” Hudson threw up her hands in a protective stance. “Are you?” She looked between me and Patrick. “After all, you said… ”
That we were dating, sure. That I loved him, yes. But a surprise engagement party? Really?
“We thought it would be sus if we didn’t show,” she said quickly, then faded into Lucas’ shadow.
My cousin, who I’d definitely have words with later, gave me a tight smile. “Hey, cuz. Happy engagement.”
I was given no time to respond as Nonna Russo arrived and sucked all the air from existence. She’d dragged along a second cousin I hadn’t seen in at least seven years after they’d moved to Florida and refused to return to Michigan for family events. “Look who’s here! It’s your cousin Cammie!” Nonna practically threw the now-teen relation at me.
We were quickly surrounded by what appeared to be Patrick’s extended family, Carmen from his clinic (who hung onto Matteo), and blast—some of my coworkers. They knew about this party and I hadn’t?
Patrick became swallowed up by the crowd. I tried to get my bearings. The ballroom was set up like the other charity events we’d gone to, with round tables draped in white tablecloths. A buffet stretched along the far wall with catering staff buzzing around. A dancefloor in the middle of the room. Was that a DJ over there?
“This isn’t all for us, is it?” I asked anyone who would listen. But they were too busy chattering.
Noah came around on my other side. “Do you need to get out of here? I had hesitations about keeping this secret from you, but I promised Jillian.”
“Hey!” Jillian called over two heads of various Russos. “I heard that!”
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “I’ll be fine.” The shock still hit hard, and everyone was talking and laughing so loud I couldn’t think. Patrick’s parents had to be in on this. Janine with her dark money dress. Where were they? “I’m worried about Patrick. He just had a bomb dropped on him about his parents and the campaign. ”
Noah stumbled aside as a great aunt pushed toward me with her walker. “Marcy, honey. I’m happy you’ve come to your senses. Finally settling down. And with a politician to boot! Not the choice I’d make, honestly, but children will do what they want, won’t they?”
The fact she viewed me as a child who she simultaneously wanted to marry off was something that would typically enrage me, but my brain was currently busy preventing a short circuit.
I didn’t question why my family wanted the party. They’d said as much. But Janine Strauss? She knew our engagement wasn’t real—she’d been in on that from the jump. Why was she going along with this party knowing we weren’t really engaged? To sell the ruse?
“Dinner will be served shortly,” a low male voice spoke through the PA system, coming from the DJ area. A Black man with a trimmed beard and an easy smile. “We’ll announce tables for the buffet line once you’re all seated. And congratulations to Marcy and Patrick.”
As guests found seats at tables, Nonna Russo appeared in front of me. “I went with the ‘ask forgiveness later’ approach. I figured that was more your style.”
I looked at her, puzzled. “I’m caught off guard. Your surprise worked.”
She watched me, seeming to want more of a response. She’d tricked me, all right. I had no choice but to go along. This was all so ridiculous. I let out a laugh.
Was this worth staying mad? My family loved us. They wanted to show us in their own way, and they’d secretly brought all these people in to celebrate. Family, friends, even my coworkers.
“Did you see Father Messina is here?” she asked. “So kind of the parish to support us tonight.”
Her smile haunted me .
I saw Patrick in the near distance and arrowed toward him. “Are your parents here?”
“I haven’t seen them yet, but that’s my grandmother over there. And a few others from the clinic. This is all pretty wild.”
He appeared as shaken up as I was, so at least we had that going for us. No, that wasn’t a perk. One of us needed to be well functioning or we wouldn’t get through this.
I squeezed his arm. “Let’s go with the flow for now. We’ll deal with your parents when that time comes.”
We were shuffled to the front of the buffet line. Everyone was waiting on us and I refused to let these people to go hungry, so I filled my plate. We headed to our designated table, front and center, near the DJ.
While the Italian fare tasted good, I could only stomach a small plate as I chatted with cousin Cammie and her mom who’d flown in from Florida that day. Patrick squeezed my hand a few times, looking thankfully more amused now. No. Not amusement. He was probably cycling through revenge tactics.
Pleasant background music stopped and a familiar voice spoke from the microphone by the DJ stand.
“Thank you all for coming.” Nonna Russo’s long, pale blue beaded gown sparkled beneath the lights. “We’re so blessed and honored you’re here for such an important event. The Russo family never misses an opportunity to celebrate.”
Clapping and cheers filled the room.
“As fate would have it,” she went on. “I have another surprise for you all.” Her smile made her look girlish, like a kid at Christmas with hands itching to rip open the first gift. “Boys? Wheel it in!”
From a side set of doors, a bulky hired muscle type wheeled in—an arch? Decorated with flowers? Behind them, another guy pushed a dress form on wheels. An antique lace gown that was—Oh. Oh no. The Russo family wedding gown.
Every molecule in my body froze .
“My lovely granddaughter confessed to me recently she wished she hadn’t waited so long.” Nonna paced a few steps onto a long, narrow white carpet that definitely hadn’t been there when we sat down. “She said she’d love a simple event with her closest friends and family. She said she was excited for what was next. A wedding.”
My mouth parted. Somewhere in the room, gasps sounded. Maybe it was me.
“What is she talking about?” Patrick whispered frantically. “Did you say that?”
“No!” Wait. Yes. “Not exactly. Sort of.”
“And, as fate would also have it,” Nonna said, now standing beneath the flower arch with the gown positioned beside her. “The marriage license has already been procured. We have Father Messina here from the family church, and the gown that generations of Russo women have worn, which has been altered to fit Marcy. All there’s left to say is…I do.”
Nonna Russo’s eyes lasered to mine. Your move.