12. Catherine
Chapter twelve
Catherine
Even though I know it’s not real, my stomach still has that excited, fluttering feeling as I pull up to George’s house.
The glow inside is warm and welcoming. The world has fallen to a soft, dim gold color around me. The windows of his house are open, letting in the cool air.
I bite my lip as I get out of my car.
This isn’t exactly what I planned for tonight.
Not that I had plans at all. Mostly just finding excuses to hole up in my room, rather than interact with my replacement.
I shake my head sharply, fighting against that bitter thought.
My mother might have decided to have Katherina because I was nothing but a disappointment. That doesn’t mean Grandma is going to feel the same way.
If anything, I should pity Katherina, not be jealous of her, because Mom chose to keep her instead of me.
I step into the house. My shoulders relax as the faint scent of juniper berries reaches my nose.
“Hello,” I call as I hang up my purse and jacket.
George appears in the hallway. He grins at me. “You got all dolled up.”
“Ha! This isn’t dolled up. You’re just used to Sandburrow girls with their dollar-store makeup,” I shoot back.
“Is there something wrong with that?” He gives me a pointed look.
Ahh. Yes, that was rather shallow of me. “No. Only I’m not used to putting a bit of curl in my hair and swiping on extra mascara and calling it dolled up,” I admit.
“Just accept the compliment, Cat.”
Blushing, I nod. “Thank you.”
“Right. So I took your suggestion to heart. I have a hidden camera set up and I’m going to need the ring to surprise you with the proposal,” George says.
“Oh! Really?”
He winks at me. “Really.”
I slide the ring off my finger and hand it over. He tucks it into his pocket, and I wince.
“Don’t you have a box to put it in?”
“I do,” George says slowly. “But it’s got to be a surprise. You’re not allowed to see the box until the moment I propose.”
I shake my head. “This isn’t exactly how I want to be proposed to.”
“We agreed that I proposed during a quiet dinner for just the two of us,” George says, frowning.
“We did. It seemed like the simplest way.” I sigh. “I guess I’d just prefer to be sitting in front of a fire with a gentle rain pattering on the windows. Then as I’m falling asleep, I’m proposed to.”
George smiles. “I’ll remember that for next time.”
I laugh. Next time?
He leads me into the dining room. I’m about to tell him just to make sure not to lose the ring, but the sight that greets me drives it from my mind.
“Wow,” I breathe.
He’s gone all out.
A lacy tablecloth covers the table. Several tapering candles sit in the center, while even more candles line the back wall. The scent of juniper berries wafts toward me.
“This looks beautiful,” I say.
“Thanks. Take a seat and I’ll bring dinner out.”
I press my hands to the back of a chair. It’s all so beautiful that I’m not sure what to do. It certainly has all the elements of a romantic dinner.
George kisses my cheek softly. Oh! So we’re playing for the camera already.
He goes to pull out my chair and I wave him off. “No, no. I’m fine. I’d like to stand for a while anyway. It’s been a long day sitting down.”
Which is true. It’d also be true if I’d driven down to Sandburrow from the city.
George nods and heads into the kitchen.
I’m reminded that we’ll be showing this to his parents. So I call after him, “Are you sure you don’t need help with anything.”
“I’m fine,” he calls back.
Maybe I should help him anyway. But if he says he’s fine, then I’m taking him at his word.
I stretch my back a little, then as George comes back in carrying a bowl of Caeser salad, I take a seat. It’s fully decked out with cubes of chicken in it and everything.
“That looks delicious,” I say admiringly.
“Don’t fill up too much on lettuce. I have plenty more,” he jokes.
When was the last time someone cooked for me? Other than Grandma, of course. What I should ask is, when was the last time a date cooked for me?
George brings out a seafood linguini and we tuck into our meal.
“How’s your day been?” I ask him. “How was work?”
He gives me a vague smile. “Fine. Long. I don’t really want to talk about it right now. I’d rather soak in your beauty.”
His lavish attention makes me blush. I duck my head, grinning into my food.
When I go to drink the wine he poured me, something bumps into my lips.
“Oh!” My eyes widen as I see the ring sitting inside.
I fish it out, worried that the wine will stain it. To my surprise, this appears to be cheap costume jewelry, not my ring.
When I look up, George is on one knee before me. He holds out a black velvet box and grins.
“Catherine Hart, will you marry me?”
I gasp and put my hands over my mouth. “Oh, George! Yes. Yes! I’ll marry you!”
I try to make myself seem happy beyond my wildest dreams.
There’s a breathlessness to my voice I don’t intend. Probably because my heart is doing weird things.
Things I don’t want it to do.
George slides the ring onto my finger, then kisses me.
My eyes slide shut, and I groan into his mouth. My fingers lace through his strawberry-blond hair, and I bring him closer to me.
“Careful,” he murmurs. “We’re being filmed.”
I snap back away from him. I’d forgotten!
George goes to the bookshelf and grabs his camera. Once it’s off, he grins at me.
“You think that’s good enough to share with family and friends?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say.
I’m still a little breathless. I put the costume ring down and unsteadily drink my wine.
“You okay?” George asks as he retakes his seat.
“Yup. We’ll just have to show it to Katherina first. She’s been asking,” I say, trying to give excuses for why I’m acting like this.
Why am I acting like this? My heart is racing, and I keep looking at the costume ring.
“I was worried that the wine might damage your expensive ring and thought this was a good alternative,” George says, catching my look.
I manage to smile at him. “It’s appreciated.”
We resume eating.
“How was work?” I ask again. “Any trouble from the guy who nailed himself?”
“Nope. Everything was pretty standard, other than receiving a bouquet of flowers.” George chuckles. “The crew was getting all ready to tease me mercilessly about that.”
I giggle. “No doubt Grandma had that in mind when she sent it.”
“No doubt. How was your day at the museum?” George asks.
Yes, this is perfect.
Something to talk about that will distract from these unusual feelings.
I launch into everything I’d learned about the town today. It’s an eclectic mix of random information, but George soaks it in as though I’m telling him the most interesting stuff in the world.
When I’m out of trivia, we’re done with our food.
This time, I insist on helping clean up. I take my ring off to wash dishes while he dries them.
As I’m working, I catch a grin on his face. He’s gazing at me as though he’s utterly charmed.
My traitor heart skips a beat.
“What are you looking at?” I demand, my cheeks going hot.
“You just sound so excited talking about everything you learned about Sandburrow. I’ve lived here my whole life, and I didn’t know any of that,” he adds.
I nod, trying to get myself back under control. “That’s good to know. It means that it’ll work as trivia for the museum.”
The calm, domestic scene I find myself in is so different from what I’m used to.
Even though George has a dishwasher, I find myself grabbing plates to handwash them as well. I don’t want our evening to end, even if it means cracking my hands a bit.
The truth is, I haven’t come back to myself since his faux proposal.
It’s funny how emotions work. They never quite do what you want them to do.
Right now, electricity seems to spark in the air.
I find the act of washing dishes somehow sensual. Maybe because George stands so near to me that I feel the heat of his skin radiating toward me.
“I still have a lot of work to do, but I have a good idea of how to get to the end product,” I say, trying to ignore the way my heart keeps wanting me to stare at him.
George is very handsome, but I’ve met enough handsome men to be wary of them.
What draws me in is less about his looks and more about other things. Especially the kindness he shows Grandma.
I’ve deliberately stayed away from Sandburrow as much as possible.
It’s not great. I know that I should be around more for Grandma.
So I’m glad that he’s been around, helping her out since I’m not here.
If I’m honest, there is a lot more to George Callahan than the infuriating rival I remember from high school.
“Now you’re frowning,” he notes. “Has something gone wrong?”
I grimace. “Oh, I started to think too much. About why I don’t like coming back to Sandburrow.”
George is quiet a moment, then asks, “Why don’t you?”
My grimace grows wider.
This isn’t exactly what I want to talk about.
On the other hand, I suppose if anyone deserves to know the truth it’s my fake fiancé.
“Everyone here knows me as June Hart’s daughter,” I say, staring into the soapy water. “And that’s even stronger to them than Lynn Hart’s granddaughter. Everyone looks at me with these looks, as though they’re expecting me to trick them into smoking pot.”
“I don’t think—”
“Your mom accused me of trying to hook you on pot,” I interrupt.
George’s eyes widen. “She did?”
“The summer before we entered high school. I brought over brownies, she said they smelled like pot.” My shoulders hunch.
George whistles. “I didn’t know that.”
“I ended up crying, trying to convince her that they were normal brownies. Finally, she ate one to prove I was trying to drug you. As it turns out, I used expired cream in the icing.”
“I’m sorry you went through that,” George says softly. “That’s terrible.”
I shrug. “She apologized for it. But it was always clear to me that she didn’t like me.”
“Is that why we stopped being friends?” George asks hesitantly.
There are no more dishes to wash, so I unplug the sink. “No, I don’t think so. I can’t remember any specific event that changed things.”
“Neither can I.” George hangs the dish towel on a hook on the wall.
“Guess it was just one of those things,” I sigh.
George folds his arms. “Maybe. But I do need to apologize. Through high school, I thought our rivalry was friendly. I had no idea that you were being affected so negatively.”
I look away quickly.
“Then, on our graduation day…” He trails off.
My heart drops. Am I really going to have to talk about that now?