CHAPTER SEVEN
CHELSEA
T he twins and I sat on the sofa watching a classic holiday movie. Cinnamon and pine filled the air. Melissa’s home was professionally decorated. Me and mom decorated the interior of our house. Dad hired a company to display the lights in our yard. There wasn’t a nativity scene on our lawn like the Forrester’s. They spared no expense around the Christmas holidays.
Rapid footsteps pounded the stairs.
“Carson and Emma, Happy Thanksgiving.” He grinned.
“Happy Thanksgiving, Tate,” they shouted.
He scooped up Carson and sat him on the other side of me.
“Hey?” His little brows wrinkled.
“Sorry, little man, this is my spot.” He sat on the sofa next to me. He looked handsome in the heather gray cashmere sweater. The navy dress shirt peeked out the top. I almost forgot he was the devil and not Tate. My heart sank. Tate had been gone for weeks. This holiday sucked. I didn’t feel like being amongst our families. Lying in bed would have sufficed. Emma and Carson served as a nice distraction. I could use them as an excuse not to be alone with him. He slipped his arm around my shoulder and nuzzled my hair.
“You smell good, Chelsea.”
My body shook against him. I wished I could run and never look back.
“Dinner is served,” the chef announced.
My heart beat again. Thank god.
Mason intertwined our fingers and escorted me into the dining room. Emma and Carson rushed to their seats.
Our parents sat amongst us clutching their wine glasses.
“May I have everyone’s attention?” Mason’s deep voice bounced off the walls.
“You have the floor son,” Brian smiled.
Mason held my hand and dropped to one knee.
“Chelsea, I am so happy to have you back in my life. I never thought I’d get this chance.”
Sure, you didn’t, snake.
“You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”
The fake plastic smile filled my lips. “Yes, Tate.”
He slid the oval diamond onto my finger. Cheering erupted around the room .
Mason swung me around and kissed my lips. I was so tired of faking it.
Our mothers asked Mason and I several questions halfway through dinner.
“Chelsea, do you have any idea when you’ll tie the knot?”
“Melissa, yes. Christmas.” I smiled from ear to ear.
“In London.”
Dad choked on the turkey breast.
“Are you ok, Dad? Why, should we wait?” I peeked at Mason, rubbing his hand. “Right, Tate?”
He could barely muster a smile he was so upset. Yup, I threw a monkey wrench in his plan. I needed to save the real Tate. This farce had gone on long enough.
“Where do you two plan to live?” Mom asked.
“In London.” Mason was all teeth. Asshole.
“What?” Mom screeched.
“Chelsea will attend Oxford University while I run our London office.”
Brian’s eyes bulged.
“Tate, wait a minute. You said you talked to your grandfather, and you two reached an understanding.”
“We did. I told him I’d be happy to run the company. ”
“Tate, before you left you said you wouldn’t back down. I told you I was proud of you for standing on your own two feet.”
I laughed inside. Brian knew Tate would never back down. But he also didn’t know Tate wasn’t the son sitting before him, it was Mason. Standing to my feet and shouting Mason is alive, oh would feel good right about now. I also knew if I didn’t step in Tate might lose his life.
“Brian, Tate, and I discussed it. We feel this is the best move for our family.”
Oh, did I let that tidbit slip?
Dad jumped up. “Is Chelsea pregnant? You two can’t start a family now.”
Brain held dad back. I swear he was about to climb across the table and kill my fiancé.
“Dad, I am not pregnant. I am just saying this will be best for our family. Tate and I are a family until we one day have a child.”
Our fathers sat gulping their wine.
“Tate, if you don’t want to move to London you can tell me. I will talk to my dad.”
Mason grabbed my hand. “We are fine.”
The servers placed the dessert on the table. We dug in. Silence fell around the table .
“Mom, please don’t schedule surgeries around my wedding date. You have to be there.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, honey.”
“Chelsea, are we allowed at your wedding?”
“Emma, of course. I need you to be my flower girl. And Carson, you can be my ring bearer.”
“Yay,” they chimed.
Melissa didn’t suspect anything off about fake Tate. She gave birth to the boys. Wouldn’t she be able to tell them apart? Maybe she did, but didn’t know what to say to her son.
We played charades and Candyland. The night was perfect minus fake Tate. What was it like for Mason being around his parents? I ran to the kitchen to grab a soda.
“Are you all right?” My heart lurched, and I gripped my chest.
“Yes, you didn’t have to scare me.”
He closed the space between us. “You didn’t have to tell our parents about us starting a family.”
“Shouldn’t they know? They will be grandparents next year.”
“You’re getting a kick out of all of this.”
“I sure am.” My southern accent shined through .
“Your dad was behind you to go pro. I guess you didn’t know that important detail. Do you know how much your family misses you?”
His brow wrinkled. “They don’t miss me.”
“Yes, they do. Come on.” We joined our families in the living room.
“Tate, honey light your candle.” His mom nodded him over.
He hesitated.
“Go on, Tate.” I pushed him toward the oversized mantel.
Brian kissed Melissa on the forehead and gripped his son’s shoulder.
I stood in dad’s arms. Mom clutched my hand, and the twins fidgeted in front of us.
“Mason, we will never forget you, son,” Brian’s voice wavered.
“We miss you so much. There isn’t a day that goes by we don’t think about you,” Melissa sniffled.
She peeked at her son. “It’s all right. Go on, Tate.”
“Mason, I miss hanging out with you. You were my best friend. I love you,” his voice cracked.
They each lit a candle, honoring Mason.
Maybe the annual holiday remembrance would soften the beast’s heart .
Mason turned and reached for my hand.
Melissa swiped at the tears and cranked up the holiday music. The twins jumped around. Our parents huddled together sipping spiked eggnog.
Mason wrapped his arms around me. “That was a cute bonding moment with my family.”
“You needed to know how they felt.”
His blue eyes glinted. “I’m a lucky guy. I’m engaged to the perfect woman.” His nose slipped across my neck. “I could never give you up, Chelsea.”
Fuck, my plan backfired. The evil prince still had to have me for himself. He was determined to make his brother suffer. I shook in his arms.
“No need to fret, princess.” He stood to his full height, staring down at me. “You’re in good hands.”
Our families were oblivious to my torture. He wanted me no matter what it cost him. I was the prize he had to win.
PULLING MYSELF TOGETHER became excruciating the longer this farce went on. The day after Thanksgiving, I laid in bed all day. Mom and dad checked on me. I lied, telling my mother, I wasn’t feeling good without any sign of a fever. The next best reason for a girl to remain in bed all day. Cramps .
She hovered over me. “Chelsea, I’ll grab a bottle of aspirin. I thought your cycle happened at the beginning of the month?” See this was why having a doctor for a mother could be problematic.
“Mom, it switched. Twice a year my cycle changes to the end of the month.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.” She stood and clapped her hands. “I’ll return with chamomile tea, aspirin, and a heating pad.”
“Mom, you’re the best.”
She winked and scurried out of the room.
I needed the break from Mason. I’d milk this alone time for all it was worth.
Monday morning, I was on the prowl. Where was little Miss Priss? I spotted her a few minutes later. She strutted down the hall in her black Jimmy Choo’s. I followed at a distance. She slipped into the restroom. Strolling in a few seconds later, I gazed in the mirror pretending to freshen up my makeup.
Marisa exited the stall and sighed. “What the fuck do you want?”
A wide grin stretched across my face. “Marisa, don’t be bitter. I came to give you a personal invitation to my Christmas wedding.” I placed the card in her hand at the same time flashing the ten-carat engagement ring in her line of sight.
Her nostrils flared and her gray eyes narrowed. She reluctantly snatched the invitation from my hand.
“Is that all, bitch?”
I closed the space between us. “We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You didn’t have to serve me and Tate up to Mason. I bet you regret you ever went along with his destructive plan. Looks like I’ll be barefoot and pregnant in a few months with his heir.”
She motioned her hand toward my face. I caught her wrist. “You only have yourself to blame.”
I twirled and clanked out of the restroom in my kitten heels. The door slammed behind me. A blood-curdling scream penetrated the thick wooden door. A devilish smile curled my lips. My work was done.