Chapter 11 #3
Then Ethan blinked. Of course. The reason his father was such good friends with Don Steele was because Don was one of his biggest financial contributors.
His stomach tightened. So really, none of this had any altruistic reasons to do with Christine.
It was all about shoring up Dad’s financial campaign to help him win the next election.
“It’s about money, isn’t it?”
“Money makes the world go round.”
“Yeah, well I’m not gonna play. You’re going to have to find somebody else who is.” He pointed at Rob. “Maybe Rob would be happy to.”
Francine had been bent over her phone, tapping away, and she finally looked up with a smile. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.”
“What do you mean?”
She smiled. “Because Lucinda has just announced your engagement on Facebook.”
His eyes widened. “What?”
He reached for his phone, then remembered he couldn’t access his Facebook account either. He gestured for hers, and she passed it over, smirking.
He looked at the post and saw that Lucinda had posted two pictures. One of the two of them from years ago, where he’d kissed her cheek. The other of her holding out her hand, on which the fourth finger boasted a diamond ring. “What?”
The words “I said yes!” were emblazoned across in large dark letters, and already the post was scoring likes, hearts, and congratulatory messages. Including—as he read down the comments—one from his sister.
Breath hitched. “You said congratulations?” He scowled at her. “We’re not engaged—and you know that! How could you like that? We’re never getting engaged. What kind of freak show is this?”
“Hey, there’s no need for nasty names,” Rob tut-tutted. “Not very Christian of you, is it?”
Rob could take his ‘not very Christian’ comments and shove them up his—
“She’s insane.” He shoved the phone on the coffee table, feeling like his life, his soul, was tainted. He wiped his fingers on his jeans. “I am not going along with this. I’ll let people know—” Except how could he do so when he couldn’t jump on social media and declare the truth?
“Know what, Son?” Dad studied him. “This is just the sort of good news that my campaign needs right now.”
“Whoa. I thought you wanted me to marry Lucinda because of Christine. Now it’s because of your campaign?”
Dad shrugged. “Needs be.”
Wow. Everyone here was unhinged. He stood. “I’m out. I’m not playing.”
“If you don’t play, then what are you going to do? Find this blue-haired girl and do what?”
“Her name is Elinor. She’s a graphic designer. And she’s smart and funny, and I like her. And I don’t care what weird thing is going on here; I don’t want any part of it.”
“You can’t make a fuss. I can’t afford any scandals, and if you publicly state this isn’t true, then that’s going to cause a scandal. As well as breaking poor Christine’s heart. And you don’t want to break poor Christine’s heart when she’s only got a few months left to live, do you?”
Wow. Dad really didn’t mind going there.
“The problem is, Dad, Lucinda has posted this in a public space, so now all of my friends and work colleagues think I’m engaged to her.
And I’m not. And I will not be. So, I can’t see a way to let them know this is not the case unless I do say something publicly. Can you?”
Three pairs of dark eyes stared back at him.
He shifted his glasses back up his face.
His glasses often felt like an inconvenience, but right now they felt like a shield.
Or an X-ray. Like he could see these people and their motives more clearly.
They didn’t care about him. They cared about money, impressing people, their own reputations.
Too bad his own reputation was seen as expendable.
Finally, Francine leaned forward. “What if you just leave it for a bit? Give Lucinda the weekend to play pretend—I agree, it is odd—then next week when the fuss dies down, you speak to her and it all goes back to normal.”
“How can you say you think what she did is odd when you just congratulated her on Facebook?”
She looked nonplussed for a moment. Then shrugged. “I agree, I probably shouldn’t have done that—”
“Then delete your comment.”
“Fine, fine.” She waved a hand. “I will. But I agree with Dad. If you make a fuss now, it’s only going to hurt his election campaign. And to be fair, it might even hurt your work.”
“What?”
“Who’s going to trust a lawyer who doesn’t keep his word?” Rob piped up.
“It wasn’t even my word to begin with.” He clasped his head in his hands. “I can’t believe any of this. This is a nightmare.”
“It’s a nightmare for Christine, that’s what it is,” Dad said. “And you making a fuss is only going to hurt her even more.”
He exhaled. This felt like an impossible situation. And Francine was right. He didn’t want to be the guy who people couldn’t trust. Even if what was being said was a lie.
“Fine. One weekend. That’s all. Then I’m speaking to her and it stops. Understand?”
Dad smiled his Cheshire cat–like grin. “I appreciate it, Son. You’ll find it won’t be as bad as you think it might be.”
He shook his head, not bothering with farewells as he exited. Not as bad as he thought it might be?
No. It would be a thousand times worse.