Chapter 11 #2
“These table settings are for the engagement party but of course you’ll have a formal meal at both of them,” Lauren interrupted. “There are a lot of people who’ve waited a long time for this moment, Parker. People will want to celebrate with you.”
“But you’re not suggesting that we marquee the tennis courts just for the engagement party?
” I turned to my mother for backup, then glanced at my father.
I should have known better. He wasn’t going to veto my mother on this kind of thing.
And my mother loved to throw parties at the best of times, let alone when her daughter got married.
Bloody Sutton, if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have even suggested the wedding thing to Tristan and we wouldn’t be stood around my parent’s garden planning a wedding that would rival Will and Kate’s.
“What about a compromise?” Tristan suggested. “Either a small, intimate engagement party with a sit-down dinner and then a large, informal wedding, with just drinks and canapes. Or a large engagement party with a very small wedding?”
“Or what about no engagement party with a very small wedding at a registry office,” I countered.
“Absolutely not,” my mother said. “Think of your father’s business. Just with his top associates at the bank and then some of his major clients, that’s eighty to one hundred people.”
I groaned. “This isn’t a business event. This is my wedding.”
“I agree,” my father said. “We can get that number down significantly.”
“How many people do you want to invite?” my mother asked Tristan.
“Twelve,” Tristan replied.
My mother stole a glance at my father who was nodding.
“Just twelve?” Lauren asked. “Is that just family and then you want friends and business associates and—”
“Twelve people all together at both the engagement party and the wedding.”
Lauren sighed. “Well, that does free up some space. Perhaps we can pare things back a little and—”
“We could do twelve as well,” I suggested. “Then it’s evenly matched.”
My father started to laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“Either way, we don’t want some ridiculously big do,” I said. It was going to be embarrassing enough to tell everyone we were divorcing.
“I know you don’t like being the center of attention,” Lauren said. “But it’s your wedding day.”
Silence descended on the group like a grey cloud in a summer sky.
“I’ve got it!” Lauren clicked her fingers in the air like she’d just performed magic.
“The engagement party is held here at the house. We go all out. Outdoor chandeliers, live music, ice sculptures, flowers wherever you look.” This wasn’t sounding like the small, intimate gathering I’d hoped for.
“We call it a party to celebrate your marriage. It’s not an engagement party.
It’s not a wedding. It’s just a party. But it’s big, and fun, and informal.
And then you have a small wedding of twenty—or maybe fifty of the people closest to you. ”
Tristan squeezed my hand. “How do you feel about that?” he asked, his tone hushed, and even though my parents and Lauren could all hear, I appreciated him making it just about the two of us for the first time since we’d stepped through my parents’ front door.
“How do you feel?” Not only did I not want to make a big fuss about marrying a man who I’d be a stranger to once our divorce was finalized, but I didn’t want to put Tristan through it. Our relationship was faked and Tristan seemed like a good guy. I wanted to downplay this entire thing.
“I think it sounds like a good compromise,” he said. “I like the idea of the actual wedding being small.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Okay,” I said to Lauren. “Big party. Small wedding. But the wedding has got a cap of twenty-five—including everyone standing right here.”
Lauren opened her mouth to speak and my dad cut her off. “Good, glad that’s sorted out. Shall we all have another glass of champagne? It’s not every day that I gain a son-in-law.”
“Yes,” Lauren said. “Another glass of champagne will help loosen everyone up. I thought we might take a couple of pictures that we could incorporate into the invitation boxes.”
“Pictures? Invitation boxes?” We should have eloped.
“Pictures of the happy couple. We don’t have to use them but they’ll be nice sentimental keepsakes if nothing else.
I’ve set up my camera down by the willow trees—as you know I’m quite the amateur photographer since I did that evening class with the WI.
I’m confident I can capture the love you have for each other in the lens of my camera. ”
It took everything I had not to groan. Photographs? Really? I felt terrible lying in ordinary conversation to the three people in front of me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pose with Tristan and make everyone believe we were in love. “We were thinking of getting something professional done.”
Lauren scowled at me. “Oh you don’t need to bother. The lighting here is just beautiful this afternoon and we can make them black and white—they’re going to look just as good as the professionals. I’ve gotten really quite good, even if I do say so myself.”
“Sounds fun,” Tristan said from beside me.
He couldn’t possibly be serious.
Lauren beamed at him and she led us back to the willow tree, my parents following us.
As Lauren fiddled with her camera, Tristan bent and whispered in my ear.
“Stop freaking out. It won’t take much to be convincing.
Follow my lead and everything will be fine.
People believe what they want to believe.
” He snaked an arm around my waist and I tried to ignore the heat of his large hand on my hip.
As he pulled me toward him, I stumbled and fell into him.
My hand reached for him to stop myself from falling.
It was like pressing my hand into a tree trunk.
I guess that’s why it felt like I was running into a wall when I bumped into him in the hotel lobby.
“Oh that’s a lovely shot,” Lauren called. “Hold that pose.”
Tristan grinned down at me.
“Does she know I tripped?” Neither Lauren nor my parents could hear us—they were a few meters away and chatting amongst themselves.
“You’re adorable,” he said, circling his other hand around my waist and bringing me upright and tight against his oh-so-hard body.
“You’re hard.” I prodded my finger into his chest.
I glanced up at him and he was chuckling. “Not a problem yet, but the afternoon’s not over.”
I rolled my eyes and hoped it took his attention from the blush I felt burning into my cheeks. “I didn’t mean—you know what I meant.”
“You’re particularly adorable when you’re blushing.”
“I don’t blush,” I said.
“Oh I disagree. You blush a lot. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
One of?
Before I had a chance to respond, Lauren marched over and began to manhandle us. “Such a gorgeous couple.” She lifted my arm and placed my hand flat on Tristan’s rock-hard pec and then did the same with the other hand. “Now look into each other’s eyes.”
Tristan grinned like he knew what we were doing was absolutely insane but he was enjoying himself anyway and I couldn’t help but smile at his amusement. The laughter lines around his eyes were out in full swing and without thinking, I reached up and smoothed my fingers over them.
“Absolutely gorgeous,” Lauren shouted from somewhere. “You two are perfect together.”
Despite the fact that we weren’t together, there was something about that moment with him that did feel absolutely perfect.
He was so calm and relaxed and so completely at ease; it felt like all of that was somehow seeping into me, making me believe we could actually pull this fake marriage thing off.
It was me that had initiated this entire fake proposal, but it was Tristan who was making sure it happened.
Like he was invested in this just as much as I was—like he was my rock-solid partner in crime.