Chapter 33 #2
“The sooner we get things underway with the engagement and wedding, the sooner we can move on.” He places a velvet box on the table. “Chase, ready to do the honors?”
I glare. “There is nothing honorable about this.”
“Take the ring. We’re ready to toast your engagement, but first, you have to pop the question.” Dad says in a fake, jovial tone.
“I don’t think this is what my grandfather had in mind.” My tone is grim.
“Chase, you understand what’s at stake here, right?” Crimson creeps up my father’s neck and colors his cheeks.
I can’t bear to look at Pippa because I’m afraid she’ll think I’m just doing this for the money. I already have plans for the inheritance when the time comes—pizza-sized plans. But my father has other designs, and to preserve Cap’s esteemed memory as a football titan, I have to obey.
However, I can’t bring myself to pick up the box. Lips pinched with determination, my father shoves it in my hand. Just then, someone calls my name.
“Chase? Pippa? What are you doing here?”
We both startle and turn in the direction of a booming male voice.
I get to my feet, saved by my high school best friend. Pippa’s brother, Freddie, strides over. He wraps his sister in a hug and then extends his hand. We shake and his gaze drifts to the velvet box.
“Did I stumble upon what I think I stumbled upon?” Freddie asks.
Everyone in the restaurant has a front-row seat and watches intently.
The entire situation is awkward and completely bizarre, but it gives me a moment to think about what to do, to slow down a quickly spiraling situation.
Marlow casts my father a dark glare.
My mother pales with worry.
But Freddie beams. “I have to call Phoebe. She can’t miss this.” He’s as loud as ever, but gone is the rough rugby player, and in comes my best friend, who’s encouraging me to propose to his sister because, having just walked in, that’s probably what it looks like. I wish it were so.
“You’d never believe it, but I just stumbled upon Chase—yeah, The Crush. He’s about to propose to Pippa. What do you mean heart fluffies?”
Up until that moment, Pippa stood frozen, pale, but her cheeks blossom pink as though she’s come back to life.
“Mum told me she was playing matchmaker, but I had no idea it was this guy. Then again, he did call me to ask for my blessing.” There’s a pause.
“Of course, I gave it.” Everyone in the restaurant can hear one side of the conversation while Freddie is on the phone.
“Okay, I’m putting you on video.” Freddie angles his phone and then looks around in confusion.
“Wait, where are Mum and Dad? I thought this was an engagement party?”
I’m not sure how to clarify things for Freddie or convince my father that it’s a terrible idea, but the interruption lets me make a game-time decision.
Run down the clock.
Marlow slinks over. “Freddie from high school? My, you’ve grown into quite the stud.”
“Says the woman my father wants me to marry.”
Freddie lifts his palms like a pair of stop signs. “Hold up. Your father wants you to marry her, but you’re proposing to my sister? Am I missing something?”
Pippa eyes my father warily. “I certainly am. For some reason, he’s intent on Chase and Marlow marrying. Where’s Aimme?”
Freddie’s lips twist to the side. “She left me in Sri Lanka for a surfer.” He shrugs. “Plus, she had too many vowels in her name and it was all about Aimme, Aimme, Aimme. Me, me, me. Er, her, I mean.”
“It says it right there in her name. Aim-me,” Pippa adds.
“And there I thought it was weird that your name is Phillipa and I’m Phillip.”
“It is weird,” Pippa says with a smile as though relieved to have someone on her team during what is a nightmare of a game. “But not as weird as this,” she mutters, casting a glance around.
“I’ve been out of the country for a while, but last I checked, a father can’t force his son to marry anyone. You’re an adult, Chase. Just don’t do it.” Freddie shrugs like it’s no big thing.
“It’s not that simple.” But it’s certainly not something I can explain in public. I turn to Pippa. “I do want a future with you, but I don’t want it to start like this.”
“I won’t tolerate another moment of this idiocy,” my father blusters, getting to his feet. “My son will not be marrying Pippa. He’s going to ask Marlow to be his wife and he’s going to ask her now.”
Marlow bats her eyelashes. “I’m waiting.”
So is the rest of the restaurant. The regular din of silverware on ceramic, the clinking of glasses, and the low rumble of chatter are silent. Even the kitchen workers watch.
I scrub my hand through my hair. I have to save face, particularly for my grandfather, but I cannot do anything other than follow my heart. I turn to Pippa and take her hands. “You are the woman for me. The one I want to live out my happily ever after with—”
My father’s face is nearly purple and the buttons on his shirt strain, ready to burst. “Ask her,” he grinds out, thrusting Marlow between us.
“I need some time to think things through. Dad, I’m not going to ask anyone to marry me right now. This is a big step.”
Rhett clenches his fists and shoves his face in front of mine. “You will do this or else.”
“You should probably listen to him,” Marlow hisses.
Chin lifted, my mother inserts herself. “Rhett, that’s enough for now. You’re working yourself up. Listen, why don’t we all go up to the beach house together? We were heading out there after lunch anyway. We can spend the weekend there and get this all sorted out.”
“What’s there to sort out, Ruth?” Rhett asks.
“You know the answer to that as well as I do, Rhett.” She glares at her husband, takes my hand, and we exit the restaurant.
I glance over my shoulder at Pippa, thankful she’s with her brother, but knowing that I do need to get this sorted out with my father and take the consequences like a man before I can ever expect her to respect me or spend the rest of her life with me.
After all, she’s an etiquette coach and the woman I want more than anything.
But first, it’s time to take care of business.