Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
THEO
“You should have been quicker with the picture,” I say to Rupert as we sit on the footpath, waiting for Renley to get back from wherever she went.
“Honestly, I thought she’d believe you, because who would lie about being a lord?”
“I don’t know, someone who would lie about being in the family business of electronics. Where the hell did that even come from, by the way?”
Rupert shrugs. “Can’t be sure, just the first thing that came to mind.”
“Well, for the love of God, keep your comments to yourself; I think that set us back.”
“No, the fact that she’s not looking for a fiancé has set us back.”
“Don’t remind me.” I lean back on my hands, staring up at the cloud-covered sky. “The humidity is thicker here. Feels like I actually have to chew my air.”
“Well we are right next to the ocean. The fact that you didn’t rent us an oceanfront property is treason.”
“Yeah, but this house was right next to my fiancée’s, and I thought it would be better.”
“Should have made sure she was going to say yes before booking us here for the summer.”
“Can we stop going around in circles? We need a new approach. We need help. We need—”
“What are you two doing out here?” Kitty asks from behind us.
That’s what we need—we need Kitty.
Turning around, I mask my irritation with a smile and say, “Enjoying the fresh air. Come join us.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Kitty says as she walks up to us, now in swishy tracksuit pants and a homemade shirt with an ironed-on picture of a hobby horse on the front.
She lets out a low exhale as she sits down next to me and then stretches her legs out toward the street.
“So, is this your first time across the pond?”
“No, but it’s our first time in Massachusetts. Don’t know why it took me so long—it’s beautiful here. The air is so…easy to breathe.”
“More beautiful than the English countryside?”
“A close second,” I answer diplomatically.
“I don’t know, the view seems better from where I’m sitting,” Rupert says, his eyes laser-focused on Kitty.
“Well, aren’t we a charmer?” Kitty says. “Too bad your friend Theo doesn’t have the same wit; he might be able to win my niece over.”
“You think?” I ask, feeling some hope. “She doesn’t seem interested.”
“Possibly.” She looks me up and down. “If you play your cards right.” She leans back on one hand and puffs her chest out.
“You see, she’s so set on her candy shop right now, she’s not really thinking of anything else.
She doesn’t see the opportunity standing right in front of her.
” Sizing me up, she asks, “Are you a murderer?”
“No.”
“Do you plan on murdering at any point in time?”
“Not really my thing,” I answer.
“Are you a swindler?”
“No, I don’t have a need to swindle.”
“Good answer. Are you a cheater?”
“Never cheated a day in my life.”
“Do you plan on cheating at any point in time?”
I shake my head. “No, trying not to follow in my father’s footsteps.”
That piques her interest as she tilts her head to study me once again. “A man with morals. That makes Kitty purr.” She paws at my shoulder.
Eh, could have done without that.
“I like a woman that can purr,” Rupert says, looking oddly eager.
“I bet you do.” She winks at him, and I swear to you, I hear him softly groan.
What the fuck is going on here?
“So, Theodore, what in her profile made you want to marry my niece? Was it the fishing?”
“Uh, no. I don’t fish. Don’t even know how to actually. Not much of an outdoorsman.”
“Really?” she asks. “I thought all Englishmen enjoy a good romp in the countryside.”
“Never said I didn’t enjoy a romp,” I say with a wink.
“Same here.” Rupert raises his hand. “Love a good romp.”
Kitty eyes him for a moment with a devilish look before saying, “That’s good to know. Not sure if my niece has ever enjoyed a good romp, but that’s neither here nor there.”
I mean, it’s a little here and there.
“You didn’t answer my question. What about her profile did you like the most?”
That she wasn’t feasting on what I can only hope is fake blood.
That she wasn’t collecting her own hair for craft projects.
Or that she didn’t classify Earl Grey as piss water.
“I liked her ambition,” I say, lying through my teeth, because in all honesty, I can’t really recall her profile. All I remember is that I thought she was beautiful and fucking normal.
The normal factor being the most important.
“She’s quite ambitious. Are you going to be able to handle that?”
“I don’t need to handle it; it’s not my job. My job would be to foster that ambition and help her grow.”
Where the hell did that come from?
Because that was a fairly solid, on-the-spot answer. I should be slightly terrified with myself, but rather, I’m quite impressed.
She slowly nods. “She needs that, someone to believe in her.” Kitty is silent for a moment and then she pats me on the thigh. “Try proposing again. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
Kitty lifts up from the path and brushes off her backside. “Then stick around to see if you can convince her otherwise.” She then twiddles her fingers at Rupert and says, “Catch you later, Stretch.”
Rupert watches her walk all the way back into the house and when the door is closed, he sighs.
What the actual fuck.
“Mate, don’t go there. She could be your mother.”
“If she wants to cradle me in bed, by all means, I’ll call her mummy.”
“Fuck…no.” I shake my head on a wince. “No, Rupert. Just no.”
He stares at the house. “If she had an OnlyFans, I’d be her number one subscriber.”
“I need you to stop.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, letting Kitty’s words sink in.
Stick around.
Convince her.
Why does that feel like a monumental task?
And is proving a point to my father really worth it?
Neil’s daughter flashes in my mind, causing me to gulp.
Why yes…yes, it’s worth it.
Turning to Rupert, I say, “We need a plan. A plan to win her over.”
A sly smile slides over his lips. “Oh…just follow my lead. I know exactly what to do.”
“Oh, she’s coming back. She’s coming back,” Rupert says in a hurry from where we’re hiding behind a set of bushes. “Quick, roll out on the street, look hurt, and sell it.”
“Do you really think this is going to work?” I ask, feeling stupid.
“Without a doubt. Now hurry before she sees you.”
Free of my suit jacket, only sporting a button-up shirt and dress trousers with oxfords, I roll out onto the street, where a branch has fallen from a tree, and rest under it.
Rupert came up with the idea to act like a damsel in distress to gain some sympathy from her so when I propose, she almost has to say yes because I’m so pathetic that I’ve been taken down by a large tree branch.
And of course, to make it more authentic, when I wasn’t looking, Rupert whipped me in the head with a stick, creating a gash on my forehead. I tackled him to the ground and punched him in the side, only for him to point out that it looked more convincing.
I hate to admit it, but he’s right; I like the authenticity of looking injured.
And even though this seems like a completely asinine idea, I couldn’t come up with anything else, so here we are.
Sprawled across the footpath, I wait for her to approach. I glance at Rupert, who is hiding behind the bush, and he offers me a thumbs-up and then sticks his tongue out to the side, telling me to do the same.
“No,” I hiss. “I’m hurt, not dead.”
He chuckles. “Right. Okay. She’s almost here, so start moaning.”
Showtime.
Wearily, I start to groan and shift, ever so slightly, as if I’m just coming to after being concussed by a tree branch.
“Oh my God,” I hear her say before she comes to my side and pulls the tree branch off me. “Are you okay?”
Do you hear that concern? It’s coming in full force. The plan is working—now it’s time to milk it.
“What…what happened?” I ask, pretending to be dazed and confused.
“I think this branch fell on you.”
“Did it?” I ask. “I was just…I was taking a walk and next thing I know, I’m flat on the ground, staring up…” I gulp for effect. “Staring up at your beautiful eyes.”
Her expression changes from concerned to partially skeptical.
Uh-oh.
Maybe I took it too far with the eyes.
Don’t lose her now—you’re gaining sympathy. Bring this home.
“Do you think you can help me sit up?”
“Sure,” she says and then takes my arm and guides me to a seated position.
I grip my head and then wince. “Ouch. Am I bleeding?”
She examines me. “No, but it seems like you have a scratch.”
A scratch?
It felt more like a flap of skin came off my forehead, but sure…we’ll call it a scratch.
“Do I require medical attention?”
“Do you feel like you require medical attention?”
“I don’t know. I feel dizzy. Maybe you can just…rest here with me for a moment, you know, so I’m not alone in a strange place suffering from a concussion.”
Her eyes narrow ever so slightly and her assessing gaze washes over me. I hold still in my bewilderment and need for help. After a few seconds, she drags out, “Surrre.”
Still got her hooked.
“Thank you.”
She helps me over to the tree and together we lean up against it, the leaves above us lightly rustling in the breeze.
“So…uh, did you enjoy your walk?” I ask.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Umm, maybe because I thought I was going to meet an investor today but instead I found a guy looking to get married. Kind of put me in a bad mood.”
Ooh, spicy.
Okay, so proposing under the tree with a gash on my head to gain sympathy is probably not going to work.
“Yeah, crazy mix-up, huh? But you know, in situations like this, you have to ask yourself, how are you going to make the most of it? What—”
Snap.
Turning toward the sound of a branch breaking, Renley looks behind her, and I know the moment she spots Rupert because her face falls flat with anger.
When her eyes meet mine, I can see a blaze of fire erupt.
Uh-oh.
“Are you kidding me right now? This was a setup?”
Now, I could act dumb and pretend like I don’t know what she’s talking about.
Or I could fess up and maybe gain some credit for not lying.
I think we know which way I have to go.
Kill Rupert later, tell the truth now.
“I wouldn’t call it a setup,” I say cautiously. “More like a way to get your attention so you can get to know me better. Did it…uh…did it not work?” I try to tack on a smile, but she’s not falling for it.
Huffing, she stands and takes off without another word.
Great. I was so close to winning her over…at least that’s how I plan on remembering it, neglecting the skepticism that was heavy in her facial expressions.
I round the bushes, where I find Rupert looking guilty as fuck.
“I’m going to guess she heard that.” He winces.
“You couldn’t sit still for a few fucking minutes?” I chastise.
“My leg was cramping. I still feel hungover from the plane, the humidity is slowly killing me, and you have yet to offer me an electrolyte drink. Excuse me for needing to shift my body.”
“You’re a complete prat.”
“This is not going to work,” I say to Rupert.
“It’s a pleasant peace offering. You could have gotten her flowers. You could have gotten her treats. But this…this is what will lead her to making a good decision like accepting your proposal.”
Another Rupert gem of an idea.
Not that I have room to complain about his ideas.
After the branch incident, once again, I couldn’t think of anything to gather her attention, but Rupert seems to have a whole list. I told him I couldn’t come up with anything because he whipped me too hard in the head. Not sure he believed that one bit.
I stare down at the basket filled with tequila, margarita mix, limes, salt, and margarita glasses in the shape of cacti. “The only way she can make what you consider to be a good decision is if she actually drinks it.”
“That’s why you’re going to make one on her porch and hand it to her.”
“That still doesn’t ensure that she will drink it. For all we know, she’ll toss it back in my face.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Rupert says.
“Glad you’re willing to take it.” Straightening up, even though I feel less than confident about this idea, I knock on her front door and hope for the best.
When the door goes unanswered, I knock again.
And again.
And again.
We know she’s in there—we’ve been running surveillance from our yard, making sure she hasn’t left. Rupert grabbed the basket of supplies while I kept watch. So unless there’s some secret escape route, she’s in there.
“Ring the doorbell. That will get her out here.”
I press the doorbell, and it chimes inside the house.
We wait.
A few more seconds…and nothing.
Wow, she’s stubborn.
“Keep ringing it,” Rupert says.
“And annoy her so much that she wants to punch me?”
“Sure, then maybe she’ll feel sympathy again because she punched you, and also, maybe she’ll have greater respect for you because you were able to take a punch to the nose.”
“Think she’ll go for the nose?”
Rupert nods. “Absolutely. If there is one thing I know about this woman, it’s that she’s a nose puncher. I could see it in her eyes.”
“Then get the ice pack ready.” I press my finger to the doorbell again, and keep ringing it, over and over and over until…
“What?” Renley says while flinging the door open, startling me half to death.
Jesus, I was so concentrated on the doorbell that I didn’t hear her angry footsteps charge toward me.
Trying to slow down my racing heart, I say, “Oh, wasn’t sure you were in there.”
“So you just kept ringing my doorbell and knocking?”
“Always want to be sure before taking off. Anyway, I brought you a gift.” I hold the basket out to her. “I remember reading in your profile that you like margaritas. Maybe we could brew some up, have a few out here on the porch.”
“No,” she answers.
“Okay, before you turn down the idea, I thought I’d say—”
“No.”
“Fair, fair, but I got the expensive tequila, and that should never be consumed alone. So—”
“No.”
Rupert leans in and says, “I’m thinking she doesn’t want to.”
“Thanks…a lot,” I say through clenched teeth. I turn my attention back to the rock-hard shell that won’t crack. “Any chance you’ll change your mind?”
“No,” she answers and then plucks the basket from my arms and shuts the door on us.
After a few seconds, Rupert says, “I told you she’d like the basket.”