16. Lily
16
Lily
I don’t feel great. I’m back in my tiny apartment above the bakery, and I’ve barely slept. Last night, my brain would just not turn off.
All I could think about was what I was going to say to Orson when I saw him again. How I was going to put him straight. How angry I was at what he had said. How unfair his words had been.
After the evening we spent at Jake’s house, and especially after that kiss, I thought we’d made a deeper connection. I haven’t broached the subject. I’m too scared that I’m feeling something that Orson isn’t. I don’t want to look like a fool and make things awkward in the house.
I’m making my way downstairs when I hear thumping at the bakery door. It’s 5:45 a.m., which means it’s neither a customer nor Jasmine. But I know exactly who it is.
Rounding the counter, I see Orson standing outside. He’s about to bang on the door again when he sees me. But when I get to the door, I don’t open it.
“What do you want?” I growl.
“We need to talk, Lily. Open the door.”
“No,” I say stubbornly.
“Your choice.” He shrugs. “Then I’ll just yell our business all over the street.”
He wouldn’t dare, would he?
And then he starts bellowing at the top of his lungs. “I’m here because you ran out—”
“All right. All right,” I say, quickly turning the locks.
Once I yank the door open, he steps inside. “Thank you.”
“Well, you’re not welcome,” I bite back. “You have no right to be here. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear your excuses, either. What you said last night was a disgrace. You were cruel and heartless, and your words were just wicked.”
“I know,” he says.
“And another thing—” But then I stop and gawk at him. “What?”
“I said, I know,” he repeats.
“Oh.” Now, I’m completely stumped.
“I want to apologize, Lily. It’s the only reason I’m here.”
I feel like an idiot for raging like a crazy person; having no prepared reply for his obvious remorse, I can only stand there and look at him.
“I’m truly sorry. I was completely in the wrong last night. As usual, Pops got under my skin, and instead of getting rid of my anger before I got home, I lashed out. After everything you’ve done for me, you didn’t deserve that.”
A simple sorry would have sufficed, but this is Orson. He doesn’t do things by halves.
“You’re forgiven,” I reply. “It could have happened to either one of us.”
Orson shakes his head. “You know that isn’t true. You don’t have a nasty bone in your body.”
“Really? What about all that stuff I said to you a minute ago?”
“You spoke the truth. I was heartless, and cruel, and wicked.”
Heat rushes to my face and I cover my cheeks with my hands. “Lord, did I really say that?”
Orson smirks. “I always knew you were feisty.”
I laugh then. “Well, I suppose we’re just like newlyweds, after all. Last night was our first fight.”
“And our last, hopefully,” Orson adds. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to do that again. Driving around Willow Creek looking for you was not my idea of fun.”
“You drove around…” I taper off in astonishment.
“I did. I was worried.”
“Didn’t you know I would come here?” I gesture to the bakery.
“It’s the first place I looked. But after calling your phone a hundred times, gazing up at your window like I was playing the part of Romeo, and then not getting an answer, I couldn’t be sure.”
“Ah,” I reply, feeling a little guilty now. I had turned my phone off after he wouldn’t stop calling. “Now it’s me who should be saying sorry.”
There’s an awkward silence. Then, thrusting out my hand, I look him in the eye. “Truce?”
Orson chuckles. “I didn’t realize we were at war”—he takes my hand—“but sure. Truce.”
Nearly a week has passed, and tonight, I’m nervous.
Orson has schooled me in what to expect at his grandfather’s gala, and from what he’s said, it’s a pretty big deal. So big, in fact, that my fake husband gave me his credit card and a list of boutiques to visit to buy an appropriate dress.
It’s being held at their family estate, and we’re being driven there in a limo. While I’m excited about the limo, given that I’ve never been in one, the idea of the rest of the evening terrifies me.
I slip into my silver high-heeled sandals and give myself a final glance in the mirror. My dress is a deep red high-low. It’s off-the-shoulder with delicate sleeves. The bodice is decorated with sparkling beads and sequins, while the skirt, which grazes the floor at the back and is high cut at the front, is made of multi-layer tulle with a satin lining. A beautiful pair of drop pearl earrings really sets it off.
This afternoon, I was sent to the salon, where my nails were buffed and polished; my luscious locks are now slightly curled and bouncing. The cost of everything was ludicrous, but I do look like a million bucks.
Tentatively, I walk into the open plan living area. Orson has his back to me, but I’m still stunned as I catch sight of his broad shape in a very well-fitting black suit.
He turns at the sound of my clacking heels, and I have to swallow a gasp. He looks stunning in his full tuxedo with a bow tie. It also highlights his muscular frame, which sends my stomach flipping. I know he wears suits all the time, but this one has my pulse racing.
It appears he’s pretty taken with my outfit, too, given he’s gawking at me in some speechless trance.
“Well, will I do?”
Orson clears his throat and seems to gather himself, which makes me want to laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so unnerved, and he’s never speechless.
“That is the understatement of the week, Lily,” he says, his voice sounding far deeper than usual. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” I frown then and continue, “Will it be enough to fool your grandfather?”
He takes several steps across the room and then looks down at me with this strange intensity in his eyes. “You don’t need to fool anyone, Lily. You’re perfect just the way you are.”
There’s something in the way he says it that takes my breath away, and now, it’s me who’s left speechless.
“We should get going,” he says, breaking the moment. “I’ll get the bags.”
Two hours later, the limousine pulls in through two huge iron gates, and my eyes fly wide as I gaze ahead of me.
“Holy cow,” I breathe.
Glancing back at Orson, I see him smiling at me.
“This is where your grandfather lives?”
Orson has mentioned the estate a few times, and I know his family is super wealthy, but nothing could have prepared me for what I’m seeing. The grounds go on for as far as the eye can see, and right in front of us sits a humongous mansion that looks more like a castle.
At least three stories high, it’s as wide as a city block, only it’s not in any way modern. It looks like something out of Downton Abbey .
“Welcome to Arlington House,” Orson says.
I’m about to ask if his parents will be here when the car pulls to a halt and the car door opens. A man in a suit offers his gloved hand and assists me out of the limo.
“Thank you,” I say. He nods in return.
Orson links my arm in his and seems to immediately feel my tension.
“Relax, Lily. Everything’s going to be fine.”
But I can’t relax. I’m wearing clothes I’ll never wear again after being driven in a limo to a mansion that looks like it belongs in a movie. And we haven’t even gone inside yet.
“This is the grand ballroom,” Orson says when we enter a huge room decorated in a Victorian style.
Having walked through the entrance and corridors, my eyes can’t get any wider. I see sweeping drapes, murals on the walls, and above us, three massive crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the attendees.
We’re standing amidst this sea of sophistication, and I feel completely out of my depth. In fact, if Orson wasn’t holding onto me, I think I’d drown. As well as that, my stomach feels like there’s a bunch of monkeys in there doing acrobatics, which is not helping.
After a delicious three-course dinner, the room quiets, and the presentation ceremony begins. Orson keeps whispering in my ear, telling me who they are and what they’ve achieved, and while I’m trying to look interested, I’m far more affected by his lips nearly brushing my jawline. The monkeys are now on steroids.
With the presentation over, music starts, and people take to the dance floor. I’m about to excuse myself when an older man approaches us.
“Here we go,” Orson murmurs.
He stands, pulling me up to stand beside him, before slipping his arm around my waist and drawing me closer.
“Hello, Pops,” he says.
“Orson.” His grandfather returns a short greeting and then looks at me. “And this must be your beautiful new bride,” he says, smiling widely.
“Lily, I would like to introduce my grandfather, Mr. Arthur Donovan. Pops, this is Lily.”
I put my hand out to shake his. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Donovan,” I say.
“Oh.” He smiles warmly. “Call me Arthur, please.” He takes my hand and bends to kiss it. “After all, you are family now.”
“Yes,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “Of course.”
“I wonder if I might have this dance,” Arthur says with the same smile.
“Um, I…” I glance at Orson, who nods almost imperceptibly, and then I look back to Arthur and agree.
Once on the dancefloor, Arthur tells me how beautiful I look and how he’s delighted that Orson and I made it tonight. He seems far sweeter than Orson has made him out to be, and I can’t help but feel a little conflicted.
“That was quite a whirlwind wedding,” he says, still smiling warmly.
“Well, Orson and I have known each other since school. But yes, I suppose it was rather quick by normal people’s standards.”
“Hmm,” he replies, making my nerves spike even further. “Do you know why I sent Orson back to Willow Creek?”
I’m a little shocked, but I swallow my reaction. Orson gave the impression that his return was his choice, which I always doubted, but I don’t have time to think about that now.
“No,” I reply, going along with it.
“He ran away when he was a child. Orson is a good man, but we do not tolerate cowards in the Donovan family.”
So Arthur sent Orson back to face his demons. How cruel. The old man was just as bad as Orson’s parents who left him at Willow Creek High to suffer.
“I have to disagree,” I say defiantly. “Orson was not a coward back then, and he certainly isn’t one now. He’s been forced to face all those people who made his life miserable throughout his school years, which I can assure you has not been easy for him.”
Arthur looks surprised at my reply, but I don’t care. What a horrible thing to do to your own grandson.
“You’re very protective of him, Lily.”
“Of course I am. He’s my husband.”
Weirdly enough, I don’t feel strange saying those words. I didn’t even have to think about them. They just spilled out.