Chapter 14 Paige
Paige
“Paige, darling, how are you?” Nan rises from the table to greet me, taking my hand in hers. “When Zachary told me what happened last night—even though all is well and good—I was worried sick for you.”
The restaurant is one I’ve only ever read about but never had the money or the inclination to eat at.
“I’m fine, thank you.” The waiter pulls out my chair. “This place is lovely and I’m so glad you invited me.”
“Me, too, and I’m happy to hear you’re living with Zachary.” She signals the waiter and he fills our glasses with a pretty pink drink garnished with pineapple. The table is covered with an assortment of dishes.
“It’s only temporary.” Fake relationship or not, living together is a big deal. I don’t want her to get the wrong impression.
“Don’t be silly. My grandson wants you there.” Staring, she must see my skepticism. “He told me so himself.”
“I’m sure he did.” I fail at hiding my sarcasm—living together is a great way to fast-track our facade. Nan’s sing-song voice breezes through my mind with what she might say to friends and colleagues: “They’re so in love that they’re already living together.”
Lunch is decadent in both the food and conversation.
Nan is one smart and fascinating woman, and I’m not the only one who thinks so.
During our meal, people drop by our table to chat with the matriarch of the Rothwell empire.
And without exception, she introduces me to everyone like a daughter, as if dating Zach makes me part of the family. It’s both endearing and sickening.
I really do like her and believe the feeling is mutual, and it makes me nauseous to think I’m lying to her and so is Zach. He has such a wonderful relationship with his grandmother that it’s hard to understand why he’d want to be underhanded.
“Mrs. Rothwell,” says a familiar voice from behind me. At the same time, a hand rests on the top of my chair, fingers grazing my shoulder.
“Donovan, how are you?” She smiles and he leans across the table to kiss her cheek. “And how is Cecilia?”
“I’m great and so is she. It’s nice to see you.” His sharp, gray eyes latch onto me like a knife scoring its mark.
To think we almost dated. Now all I can see is a slippery snake. But I have to hand it to him, he puts on a good show, polished and polite, taking my hand in his.
“This is Paige—” Nan says and is interrupted by him.
“We’ve already met.” His gaze is calculating. “Paige, good to see you.”
“Donovan.”
“Oh, yes, you would have met at the dinner. So, Paige, you know this is Cormac’s youngest son?” Nan asks and this news surprises me.
I met Cormac at the board dinner and he was a pure gentleman. And while I can see a vague resemblance in their light eyes and dirty-blond hair, there’s no further comparison now that I’m learning more and more about his son.
“Your father is a wonderful person.”
“Yes, he is.” He flashes an inscrutable smile and I shiver.
“I was just about to tell Paige how Cormac mentioned her idea to expand our giving campaign. And—”
“And he loves it,” he cuts her off, gaze still burning into me. “You made quite an impression on my father at the dinner the other night. So much so, I wish you’d shared your thoughts with me.”
Nan laughs, and I shudder to think she’s buying his bogus charm. “Your idea is brilliant.”
“It was just a suggestion.” I shrug, finally forcing myself to look at her across the table.
The praise and attention are unwanted and unnerving. My idea to choose a focus for their foundation rather than many donations to many charities was a no-brainer. I’m surprised no one else has suggested it.
“And you knocked the socks off his other sons, too,” she says proudly.
“She certainly did. I don’t know what you said to my brothers, but both Clive and Douglas were tripping over themselves to throw money at the foundation.” His delivery implies something crude between his siblings and me instead of the altruistic act.
Nan clucks, lightly tapping at his arm. “They were both very generous and their contributions will do a lot of good.”
“I’m sure they will, but I wonder if their charity was sparked by something or someone.”
“Well, Donovan, it was nice to see you and please do give my love to your wife.” Nan isn’t impressed with his innuendo and I’m glad she’s curt with her dismissal.
“Very well.” He smirks at me, winking. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again, Ms. Hayes. And Mrs. Rothwell.”
She waits until he’s out of earshot to lean into the table, grabbing my attention.
“Pay him no mind. That boy has no decorum.” Lips twisting and nose crinkling, she shakes her head.
“You really did a lot of good at the dinner. We’ve been trying to get Clive and Douglas to support the foundation for a while now, and not even their father could persuade them.
They are philanthropic, but both claimed their interests were elsewhere. ”
“I only talked to them about what I’d learned about the foundation.”
“Well, you have the touch, my dear. And that’s one of so many reasons why I wanted us to have lunch. I need your help.”
“My help?” The notion is ludicrous, and I nibble on my bottom lip to prevent my laughter from springing free. It really is that funny.
“Our annual fundraising gala—Nuit étoilée—is coming up in less than two months and I want you to plan it.”
I tilt my head to one side, not quite understanding. “Nuit étoilée? Doesn’t that mean Starry Night?”
“Yes, that’s right. It’s a magical evening meant to inspire our donors to open their pocketbooks for a good cause.”
“I’m not an event planner. I don’t know the first thing about planning something like that.”
“There’s so much more involved than just event planning and you have what it takes. The date, venue, and menu are already set. What we need is direction. There’s no theme and we might even want to look at a new cause.” She signals for the bill, and I stare at the woman like she’s lost her mind.
“Every year, Bettina insists on running it and it’s always the same old thing. Nuit étoilée was successful the first two years, partly because it was new, but now it’s stale. Attendance and donations have dwindled in the past two years.”
“Bettina?” I think back to the other night and the matronly older woman I met. Tall, white hair—the perfect blow out—and flawless makeup and clothes. She may have looked every day of her sixty-plus years, but she wore time with confidence and class. “I can’t just step in and push her aside.”
At first, Bettina seemed stern and intimidating, not even a smile when we were introduced, but we started talking and she warmed to me. She’s a lovely woman.
“She’s on board with you managing the gala. I suggested it and she was so taken with you that by the end of our conversation, she thought it was her idea to ask you.”
Her sly smile is so like her grandson’s I don’t stand a chance at holding back my giggle. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. She joins me and winks. Oh, these Rothwells.
Sobering, I say, “But it’s only eight weeks away.”
“Save the date invitations have gone out without any specifics. We would have to send a proper invitation soon, and I have the utmost confidence in you to come up with something to get those RSVPs in.”
“But I don’t know the first thing about planning an event like this or about Nuit étoilée.” The pitch of my voice climbs in agitation.
“I figured you would say as much and that’s why I brought you this.” She bends and pulls a large leather folder from a bag at her feet.
It’s thick with papers and my stomach clenches at the similar feeling I’d get just before taking an exam. “I’m really not sure about this.”
I shake my head and my hands clasp together under the table, not willing to take the folder. I will give the offer serious thought, but I should have my head examined for even entertaining the idea. I haven’t said yes to any of this, yet I’m already feeling the pressure and responsibility.
“Just take a look. These are the files for the past five years.” She rests the folder in front of me. “And come to our next foundation meeting on Tuesday evening.”
My mind swirls at how fast things are moving. It’s as if I’ve been blindfolded and spun around a dozen times, only to then be expected to walk a straight line.
“I-I don’t—”
”I’ll have my driver pick you up on Tuesday, and all you have to do is listen.”
Sure. I eye her cynically. This lady is one sly devil but even she can’t possibly believe I’d fall for that. Just listen, yeah, right.
“At the very least, Bettina will get to see you again before returning to Calgary and Cormac will be beside himself.”
Before I can add another objection to her crazy idea, a tall blonde woman sidles up to our table. She’s pretty in an understated way and if I had to guess, I’d say she is a few years older than me, but not much more than that.
“Nan, so lovely to see you.” She air kisses the older woman’s cheek before casting me a sideways glance. “So sorry to interrupt, but when I saw you, I had to come over.”
“Hello, Reagan.” Nan gestures to me. “This is Paige Hayes.”
“Hello.” Her smile is forced. “I’m Reagan Hussey.” She extends her hand and limply shakes mine.
“Hi.”
Brushing an imaginary strand of hair from her face, she swiftly turns her back to me. “With Grandmother off to England, she’s asked me to be her proxy for the foundation.”
“Yes, yes. Blythe told me. She felt bad about leaving us for the entire summer, but I told her that’s nonsense. It’s lovely she’s spending time with her sister.”
“Yes, she didn’t want to leave you and the foundation in the lurch with the benefit coming up. I gladly offered. I’ll be at the meetings and available to help in any way you need me.”
All this talk about the benefit and foundation and my food sloshes around, unsettled, in my stomach and suddenly I feel queasy.
“Well, thank you. The help is appreciated.” Nan dons an almost crafty smile. “And you should know, Paige here…”
Reagan swings in my direction, disinterest clear in her now blank green eyes.
“She’s with Zachary, they live together…she’ll be running the benefit this year.”
I don’t know what just happened, but Nan’s news is something akin to dropping a bomb. Reagan staggers back a step before grabbing hold of herself.
“Oh.” Straightening, her expression flattens. “Is that so?” Her gaze narrows imperceptibly and I swallow with difficulty, finding it hard to refute her comment.
“Yes. So you’ll be seeing a lot of her,” Nan says, and it sounds like a cautionary promise or taunt and Reagan lifts her chin, giving me her back again.
What just happened here? Was it the news about my supposed role in the benefit or the mention of Zach? If she wants to run the benefit, she can have at it.
“Well, I won’t take up any more of your time. Nice to see you.” She leaves without so much as a backward glance at me.
“Who was that and why do I get the feeling she doesn’t like me?”
“No one for you to be concerned with, my dear.” Nan hooks her arm in mine and we walk through the restaurant to her waiting car.
We spend the drive to Zach’s talking about anything but the gala and foundation and I’m grateful for the distraction. I’m not quite grasping all that this entails.
“Please give my love to Zachary and Morgan.” Nan pats my hand and I slide across the leather seat to the open door where the driver extends a hand.
“Morgan?” I peer back at her.
“Yes, dear. The timing is poor. Unfortunately, these arrangements were made before you moved in. I leave for London on Wednesday and I tried to get her to come with me, but she insists on staying. It isn’t a good idea to leave her alone for too long.”
She pauses and I’m lost as to her meaning. It’s as if she’s suggesting her granddaughter is unstable or a child.
“My granddaughter can be boisterous and unruly at times, but she does know how to be discreet. She won’t bother you lovebirds.”
Lovebirds? Zach and me?
I want to correct her but don’t. Morgan can stay as long as she wants. I’m leaving tonight, or tomorrow at the latest. Staying at my mom’s is best and she’s expecting me to move in. If I tell Nan my plans now, she won’t let me leave the car until I see the error of my ways.
This woman has other plans and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think Zach and his grandmother are in on this fake relationship but for different reasons. His goal is purely business, whereas Nan’s vision is to solidify a future where Zach and I are a couple. For real.