Chapter Nine #2
“What about a main? Anything take your fancy?” Amongst other dishes, there’s pan-roasted hapuku fish with pāua and prawn tortellini, beurre blanc, and sea herbs, and a Canterbury lamb rack with roasted garlic mash, harissa glaze, and seasonal greens.
“I’ll have the charred eggplant and mushroom risotto,” Scarlett says. “At least I know what that is.”
That makes Chessie laugh as she reads the options. I meet Scarlett’s gaze and her lips curve up. I wink at her, touched that she’s trying to put Chessie at ease.
“The lamb sounds fantastic,” Chessie says.
“I want to try the truffle fries with parmesan and aioli,” Orson says. “We’ll get those as a side.”
I nod, and when the waiter returns, we all make our choices, Orson going for a venison dish, while I choose the hapuku. The waiter takes the menus and goes off to relay our orders.
“So…” Orson looks at me, then at Chessie, and then all four of us start laughing. “This is a bizarre situation,” he states.
“It’s just a business deal,” I reply. “That’s all.”
“You’re mad,” he tells her. “Spending more time in this idiot’s company than you have to.”
“Orson,” Scarlett scolds.
Chessie chuckles. “I wanted to help him. He’ll be wonderful at the Foundation. I think it’s a bit unfair to say he’s not a great role model.”
Touched, I say, “Thank you.”
“Well, I think it’s honorable,” Orson says. “You’re a very good friend.” His eyes meet mine, alight with mischief.
I remember his statement that ‘having a female as a best friend is like having a chicken as a pet. You’ll definitely eat her one day.’ Is he about to mention that? “Don’t you dare,” I warn him.
He tries not to laugh, and fails.
“Ignore them,” Scarlett says to Chessie. “I agree, it’s a shame they said Kingi wasn’t a good role model. He’s going to be great with the kids. So I think what you’re doing is really nice.”
“At least I got a ring out of it,” Chessie jokes, holding out her hand.
Scarlett bends to look at it. “Aw, it’s beautiful. It looks antique—is it a family heirloom?”
“My kuia’s,” I say.
“How sweet. Kingi, you old romantic.”
“It’s obviously the night for rings,” Orson says mysteriously, and smiles.
I stare at him, and then my gaze slides to Scarlett’s hand. She waggles her fingers, and my jaw drops at the sight of the large diamond sparkling on her fourth finger. I look up at him, overjoyed. “You proposed?”
He grins. “Yeah. And she said yes!” He blows out a relieved breath.
“Dude…” I laugh and throw my arms around him for a bearhug, while opposite us Chessie squeals, and the two girls also hug.
When I finally release him, I get up and go around the table to hug Scarlett. “Congratulations,” I murmur, giving her a squeeze.
She gasps. “Are you able to hug and not break someone’s spine at the same time?”
“Sorry.” I let her go with a laugh. “Congratulations, though.” I return to my seat, saying to Orson, “How did you do it in the end?” He’d told me he was going to ask her to marry him, and we’d talked about the fact that on Instagram it’s common to see extravagant proposals.
He was considering taking her somewhere special to do it.
“We were watching a program on TV last night,” he says, “and this guy proposed to his girlfriend by the Eiffel Tower in front of a crowd. And Scarlett said, ‘Eek, how awful, I’d hate that.’ So I got the ring and just did it there and then.”
“I’d have died in front of all those people,” she says.
“Plus I was worried she’d turn me down,” he adds. She just laughs and holds out her hand, and he takes it and kisses her fingers.
“I think you were very wise,” I say. “I don’t get all the pomp and ceremony surrounding the proposal, anyway. And as for the huge weddings, why not just say your vows in a civic ceremony in your jeans and have done with it?”
“That’s very cynical,” Scarlett chides. “They’re important rites of passage that should be marked. What do you think?” She directs the question at Chessie.
“Hmm.” Chessie thinks about it. “People place such emphasis on the big day that it’s no surprise it often fails to live up to expectations.
But it’s important to see through all that.
It’s about promising to love someone for the rest of your life in front of your family and friends, and God, if you’re religious. ”
“I understand why other people are interested in the concept of marriage,” I reply.
“I’m not knocking it, even though I don’t think it’s for me.
I’m more talking about the over-commercialization of these events.
The wedding, Valentine’s Day. And some of the proposals you see on social media are incredibly extravagant. ”
“That’s true,” Scarlett says. “And personally it’s not for me. What is important is the sentiment behind it.”
“Otherwise you just end with this,” Orson says, gesturing at Chessie’s hand.
“Orson,” Scarlett admonishes him, glancing at Chessie. “Don’t be rude.”
I glance at Chessie and see her studying the ring. There’s a strange expression on her face, but she smothers it before I can work out what it is.
Orson looks startled. “What? Sorry. I just meant a fake marriage.”
Chessie smiles. “You’re absolutely right.” She gives me a mischievous look. “We should come up with a proposal story though, don’t you think? People are going to ask.”
“Yeah,” Orson adds, “you should work out your timings, too, so you don’t contradict each other.”
“Fuck,” I say. “I hadn’t thought about all that. Okay… ah… so how long do you think it makes sense for us to have been dating before you get engaged?”
“My dad proposed to my mum on their third date,” Chessie says, and smiles.
I stare at her, startled. “That’s keen.”
“He’s always said he knew he wanted to marry her on the first date, but he didn’t want to appear over-eager.”
“Aw.” Scarlett presses her hand over her heart, “that’s so romantic.”
“It’s nuts!” I laugh. “They probably hadn’t even slept together. Why on earth would you propose when you have no idea whether you’re compatible in or out of bed?”
“Good Lord.” Scarlett rolls her eyes. “The word romantic really isn’t in your vocabulary, is it?”
“Nope.”
“I’m so glad you’re not really marrying this oaf,” she says to Chessie, who giggles.
“Look,” I say, “back to the question, how long have we been dating?”
“It’s only been a couple of months for us,” Orson says.
“So I think you can keep it shortish and have it believable. Why not make it six weeks? That’ll take you back to the beginning of April.
That’s about when you started the landscape work at Midnight, right?
” Chessie nods. “You can say you saw her working there,” he continues to me, “and you went for a walk while you caught up. You felt a connection, and decided to see her again. Obviously, this is your first public date, so you’ll have to say your previous ones have all been informal—picnics and whatnot, because Chessie isn’t used to the lifestyle.
I’d play on that. I think the board and the press will find that cute and adorable. ”
“Yeah,” Scarlett says, “the ‘wealthy, arrogant tycoon brought to his knees by a normal down-to-earth girl’ angle works well.”
“Steady on,” I say indignantly.
“She’s talking about me,” Orson replies, and Chessie giggles again.
I grin. “You’re right, I think the board would like that.”
Chessie frowns. “Wait a minute—they called you in last Saturday, right? If we’ve been dating for six weeks, wouldn’t you have mentioned it at the meeting?”
Orson taps on the table. “Oh that’s right… And when did you break up with Sabrina? You have to have started dating Chessie after that.”
“Shit.” I purse my lips. “I didn’t think about that. It was… Saturday the third of May.”
“That’s only two weeks ago,” Scarlett points out.
We all ponder that.
I frown. “I didn’t think this through.”
“It’s all right,” Orson says, “in a way it plays right into your hands. So what happened is that after that night with Sabrina, you felt disillusioned with your life, with all the beautiful models and meaningless sex.”
“Doesn’t sound like me.”
“This is fiction, obviously. So you went out for a walk around the grounds, and you met your old friend, someone you connected with years ago. The two of you hung out for a while, and she reminded you of your roots, and you found it refreshing to be with someone who doesn’t have any airs and graces, and who cares about the things that really matter in life.
So you asked to see her again, and you’d been on, say, three or four dates when the board called you in.
You were on the back foot, thrown by their accusations of not being respectable. ”
“Which is the truth,” I add.
“It felt too soon to tell them about Chessie because you weren’t even sure how you felt about her yet.
But the meeting reinforced those feelings of having lost something, and finding them again with her.
Maybe it forced you to examine your life and realize that you do need to grow up and be more of a role model for these kids you want to help. ”
I give him a wry look. He lifts his eyebrows. I shrug.
“You’ve spent this week seeing each other,” he continues, “and what the board said has played on your mind, and then last night you went for a late-night walk somewhere…”
“To the Waiora,” Scarlett says.
“Yes,” Orson continues, “perfect, and while you were there you realized you were so in love that you proposed.”
I give them a doubtful look. “That doesn’t sound believable.”
“Well, thanks,” Chessie says.
“I mean because it doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”
“But that’s the beauty of it,” Orson says.
“That’s what will capture everyone’s imagination.
That’s how love happens, right? Little Cupid with his bow?
He turns up out of the blue, when you least expect him, and fires off his arrows and gets you, right in the heart, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. ” He smiles at his fiancée.
“Aw,” Chessie says, as Scarlett blushes.
But I feel an impending sense of doom. My friends and family and work colleagues will never believe that I fell in love and proposed in the space of two weeks.
I’m far too cynical and vocal with my views on marriage and monogamy.
The board members are going to see right through me, and it’s only going to make me look even more conniving and insincere.
“Kingi?”
I turn to look for the source of the female voice calling my name… and see Sabrina Pearce approaching the table. Fuck me. Could this evening get any worse?