16. Maeve
MAEVE
Ford’s kiss is soft and quick, but proprietary somehow. Possessive, even though it’s short.
My stomach performs an entire gymnastics routine, and I have to give it a stern mental talking to about appropriate responses to fake fiancés.
I can’t help the way my body responds to a handsome man like Ford kissing me—especially like this, as if I belong to him, as if the intimate way he’s touching me is an everyday occurrence.
But that doesn’t mean I have to let myself think it’s anything more than an involuntary reaction.
We settle around the massive mahogany dining table, where we’re served by staff who move with the practiced grace of people accustomed to wealth I can’t even fathom.
A young man and woman, both polished and professional, glide between courses with the kind of effortless efficiency that comes from years of training.
I didn’t see them in the kitchen earlier, so they must be specifically hired for service—another casual display of the Kingsley family’s resources that makes my head spin.
The seating arrangement feels strategically planned.
Lydia and I anchor the middle on opposite sides, with Liam flanking Lydia’s left and Hayden on her right, while Gabriel claims my left and Ford stakes his territory to my right.
His proximity sends little electric shocks up my arm every time he shifts, and I’m grateful for my culinary school training—at least I know which fork to use and won’t embarrass myself by reaching for the salad fork during the main course.
“Do you always have full courses like this for dinner?” I lean toward Ford, keeping my voice low enough that his mother won’t think I’m criticizing her hospitality.
“Only during holidays when the family’s together.” His breath tickles my ear, making me shiver. “Mother believes in making everything feel like an occasion.”
I wish I could absorb even an ounce of that belonging, that casual confidence that comes with growing up in a world where five-course dinners are just Tuesday night when everyone’s home.
Instead, I feel like I’m wearing a costume that doesn’t quite fit, playing a role I’m still learning.
But I’m determined not to let Ford down, so I paste on what I hope passes for a natural smile and tune into the elegant chatter flowing around me.
“Oh, thank you so much,” I say as the male server presents my appetizer with a flourish. The golden-brown morsels on my plate look like tiny works of art. “Are these stuffed mushrooms?”
“One of the madam’s particular favorites.” His eyes light up with genuine enthusiasm. “Chef takes special pride in preparing them during the holidays.”
I take a bite, and flavors explode across my tongue—earthy mushrooms, rich herbs, and something that makes everything pop. “Oh my god, did he add black sea salt? Just a hint?”
“You have an exceptional palate!” The server beams like I’ve just solved a culinary mystery. “He did indeed. Says it brings out all the other flavors without overpowering the delicate balance.”
“He’s right. Would you please tell him I’m completely blown away by that choice?” I’m probably gushing, but I can’t help myself when it comes to expertly crafted food.
“Of course, miss?—”
“If you’re quite finished conducting a culinary interview,” Hayden’s voice cuts through our conversation like a blade, sharp enough to make the server’s cheeks flush crimson, “the rest of us are also waiting to eat.”
I level Hayden with a glare. “I was asking about the food. He was being polite and answering my questions.”
Hayden’s expression remains sour, but he doesn’t push further. The upcoming Silver Start deal must be eating at him more than usual. He’s practically radiating tension, which seems excessive even for him during what should be a relaxing family gathering.
“So, Liam.” Charles’s tone carries the kind of authority that makes everyone at the table unconsciously straighten their spines. “How are things progressing with that startup venture of yours?”
“The vending machines?” The question pops out before I can stop it.
That was Liam’s latest obsession when we were together—some elaborate scheme involving smart vending machines that I’d honestly thought would fizzle out within six months.
I tried offering constructive feedback once or twice, but Liam made it clear he wasn’t interested in my opinions on his business ventures.
“The what?” Liam stares at me like I’ve just spoken in ancient Greek, genuine confusion creasing his brow.
Oh. Whoops. I’ve apparently referenced a project that’s been abandoned and forgotten in the graveyard of Liam’s discarded ideas.
“That was quite some time ago,” Ford says quietly, his tone neutral in the way that suggests he’s trying to save everyone from embarrassment.
Liam shoots his brother a look that could curdle milk anyway.
“Liam has been building valuable connections through some very prestigious internships,” Elaine jumps in, her smile radiant with maternal pride.
My chest tightens watching her defend her son—even if I can see now how wrong Liam was for me, she’s his mother.
She’ll always see the best in him, I’m sure.
“Unpaid internships,” Ford murmurs under his breath, the words meant only for my ears.
I manage to suppress a wince. Of course they were unpaid.
Liam could afford to work for connections and networking opportunities while living comfortably off his trust fund.
It’s yet another reminder of how incompatible our worlds were, how I would have spent our entire marriage drowning in debt while he hopped from passion project to passion project without any real consequences.
“But I’ve completed those now, and I’m launching this incredible new startup,” Liam announces, settling into what I recognize as his presentation voice.
I focus on my food and keep my mouth diplomatically shut while he launches into his pitch.
The first rule of dinner parties is, if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.
Besides, the meal is mind-blowing, easily the best thing I’ve tasted in years.
Every bite is a master class in flavor and technique, the kind of food that reminds me why I fell in love with cooking in the first place.
I haven’t experienced anything this good since the last time Liam took me to one of his fancy restaurants, back when I thought expensive dinners were expressions of love rather than casual displays of wealth.
Hayden and Gabriel keep exchanging subtle looks of amusement as Liam talks—or rather, brags his way through what sounds like another all-flash, no-substance venture.
Neither of them says a word, but I can practically see them mentally dissecting every claim with the sharp eyes of men who’ve built actual, profitable businesses from the ground up.
Ford remains rigid throughout his brother’s monologue, tension radiating from his shoulders.
I steal glances at Charles Kingsley, remembering Ford’s comment about his father’s lack of support.
But the older man appears to be listening intently to Liam, nodding at appropriate intervals with the kind of attention I’ve never seen him give Ford’s accomplishments.
“What about you, Ford?” Lydia asks when Liam finally winds down, her voice bright with genuine enthusiasm. I could kiss her for redirecting the conversation.
Ford’s entire demeanor transforms when he looks at his sister, his expression softening into something unguarded that makes my heart perform a little skip. This glimpse of the man behind the intimidating CEO facade is devastating in the best possible way.
“We’re actually in the middle of negotiations for a deal that could revolutionize urban infrastructure,” he begins, and I watch him come alive as he talks.
“If we can secure this partnership, we’ll be able to convert entire city blocks to fully sustainable buildings—not just carbon neutral, but actually generating enough clean energy to power surrounding areas. ”
He dives into the technical details with infectious passion, explaining solar integration and rooftop ecosystems and innovative building materials.
It’s visionary work that would require massive upfront investment for returns that won’t materialize for decades—exactly the kind of long-term thinking that separates true entrepreneurs from get-rich-quick dreamers.
Gabriel and Hayden seamlessly join the conversation, their words weaving together like a well-rehearsed symphony.
They don’t interrupt each other but rather build on each other’s points, completing thoughts and adding layers of detail that showcase not just their individual expertise but their deep partnership.
Watching them work together like this, seeing their shared passion for creating something meaningful, fills me with pride that I work for such brilliant, driven men.
I nod along and try to look like I’ve been briefed on every detail, even though this is the most comprehensive explanation I’ve ever heard of their long-term vision.
It doesn’t bother me that they haven’t shared these specifics before—I’m an assistant, not a partner—but as Ford’s supposed fiancée, I need to act like I’m already intimately familiar with every aspect of their plans.
Liam picks at his food with obvious irritation, his jaw working in that familiar way that used to make my stomach clench with anxiety during our relationship.
Charles doesn’t even pretend interest this time, staring off into the distance like Ford isn’t describing revolutionary work that could change how cities function.
The casual dismissal makes my blood simmer.
Ford has built something extraordinary, something that matters, and his own father can’t be bothered to acknowledge it.
The injustice sits heavy in my chest, making me want to shake the older man until he recognizes the remarkable son sitting right in front of him.