15. Rosay #2
Heat creeps up my neck, heart thumping in my ears. I was so focused on putting on a front for my family that I didn’t really think of the ramifications of bringing Graham as my fake fiancé. My own ego made it easy to forget that people would be curious to know who was on his arm too.
“They’ll be too focused on the beautiful bride,” I say, squeezing Winnie’s hand. “As they should be.”
“Of course, they will. But it won’t go unnoticed that Graham is in attendance because he’ll be walking you down the aisle.”
I gulp. “What?”
Graham was just supposed to be here to convince my family, not to be involved in the wedding. I figured I would be pulled away to do wedding stuff while he could network, and we’d come back together at the end of the night without anyone really noticing.
She shrugs. “Well, duh. I mean he’s going to be part of the family. Jordan is going to ask him to be in the wedding party while they’re golfing.”
I feel my face drain of color. This wasn’t the deal I made with Graham, and now he’ll either have to lie about why he can’t be in the wedding or lose out on networking opportunities. I’ll have to talk to him later about orchestrating some kind of work emergency he has to return home for.
“Rosay?” Wendy says, drawing my attention. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I clear my throat and blink away the distraction, focusing on my sister. “I want to see your dress, Win.”
Thankfully the diversion works, and she scurries to the back. Waverly follows to help, and that just leaves me and Wendy in the kitchen. For what it’s worth, she’s always given me my space, but the way she’s staring at me now, I know that courtesy is over.
“Did you give any thoughts to the email I sent?” she asks.
The email she sent…yeah, I glanced at the first few sentences and deleted it.
While Wendy’s intentions are good, unfortunately, I can’t teach with a felony.
It doesn’t matter that I was a seventeen-year-old kid who had just lost her mother or that I wasn’t the one who threw the brick through the window.
Texas is harsh on offenders, and even though I had a good judge and only had to do eighteen months of probation, every dream I had to become a teacher flew out the window.
“Yeah,” I reply.
“And?”
I shrug. “It’s better for me to focus on getting a promotion to senior VP.” The words taste bitter on my tongue. Getting the senior VP slot is nothing to shake my head at, but it’s not where my heart is.
“How wo uld that work with you and Graham being married?”
Goosebumps break out down my arms at the thought of actually being married to Graham. I ignore the erratic cadence of my heart and say, “It’s the board who makes the decision on promotions. Graham just does my yearly review, which is always glowing since I’m their highest grossing VP now.”
Thankfully, Winnie and Waverly come back into the room, effectively ending the uncomfortable conversation. While they hang up the garment bags, I shoot off a text to check in on Graham.
Me: How bad are you getting your ass kicked right now?
Three dots appear immediately, and I hold my breath, unsure whether or not it’s a good thing he’s texting back so quickly. Was he waiting for a message from me?
Graham: I'm at 38 right now with a few holes left. Kieran just hit a double bogey. How’re you making out?
Me: I have no clue what a double bogey is, but I’ll take that to mean he’s not kicking your ass. I’m…doing okay. We need to talk when you get back.
He types and deletes a few times, and I chew on my lip as I wait for him to answer. The sound of a zipper makes me look up to where Winnie unearths a beautiful white dress with a lacy bodice and a gorgeous crimson skirt.
“Holy shit, that’s gorgeous, Win,” I say, ignoring the buzz in my hand as I stare at the dress. It’s unique and stands out, exactly her style. “You’re going to look stunning.”
“Just wait until you see your dress,” she replies.
My phone buzzes again, and I take a moment to look down at it while they’re stuffing the wedding dress back into the garment bag.
Graham: I know what you’re thinking.
Graham : And I promise it’s okay if you touch my ass while we’re sleeping.
I laugh loudly, and everyone looks at me. “Sorry.” I cover my smile with my hand. “Graham said Kieran might be a little angry when they get back.”
“Good,” Waverly says. “It’s time someone knocked him down a peg.”
They devolve into talking about how Kieran and the winery owner from across the way have been bickering about a sale, but my focus is on my phone.
Me: Dream on, lover boy. I know how to keep my hands to myself.
Graham: Doubtful, but we’ll see. And before you ask, I said yes. Don’t stress about it.
My shoulders fall at his response. Thus far, Graham has been the one living up to his side of the deal, and all I’ve done is realize that I may have a slight crush on my very fake fiancé.
To keep everything surface level, I need to make sure he actually gets what he came here for and somehow manage not to embarrass myself or my family in the process.
“Here’s your dress,” Winnie says, pulling out an elegant satin, one-shoulder, emerald, green dress. “It’s already tailored.”
The material is soft between my fingers, and I just know it’s going to fit like a glove, highlighting the curves I love so much.
I steal it from her and go into the bathroom to try it on.
Like she said, it fits perfectly to my body, and it looks damn good.
I spin around in the mirror one more time to make sure it has enough wiggle room to dance before taking a picture and undressing.
Back in the kitchen, music plays while Wendy pours more wine for everyone. Waverly hands me my glass just as I hang up the dress, and I take my seat back at the island.
“Did it fit okay?” Winnie asks.
“Perfectly.”
“Graham is going to die when he sees you in it,” she says. “I bet you’ll go missing after the ceremony is over.”
I stare at her, trying and failing to keep my smile at bay. “We are not going to go missing after the ceremony.”
“Whatever you say. That man can barely keep his eyes off you.”
“You’re full of it,” I reply.
“I’m serious. He looks at you like you’re a dessert he can’t wait to eat.”
The words Graham and eating should not produce any type of reaction in me, but I can’t help the way I press my legs together thinking about him devouring me.
“Can we please talk about something else?” I ask, touching my undoubtedly red cheeks.
“Oh, yes. Let’s talk about how Waverly hates her sexy new boss.”
Waverly groans. “Let’s not. I don’t know how he became the head of the ER department when he can barely find his way around an Excel spreadsheet. He asked me to make a spreadsheet to help him itemize everything we used in the ER.”
Her face reddens the more she talks about him, and I have a sneaking suspicion there might be more than just hate lingering between them.
The night devolves into chatting about Winnie’s wedding, the events for the next day, and the honeymoon, and I can’t help noticing there’s a comfort that I’ve never experienced with them before.
Normally I’m itching to get back home, but it seems that getting tipsy with my stepsisters and stepmom is a lot more fun than I expected.
Before I can stop myself, I say, “We should do this more often.”
“Agreed,” Winnie says, downing the last dregs of her drink.
“I second that,” Waverly adds.
I glance at Wendy, and she has a big smile on her face. “Anytime.”
We queue up a romantic comedy and relax as we wait for the guys to get back.
Glancing at the clock doesn’t make the time move faster, nor does checking my phone to see if Graham has messaged again.
I don’t know what spurs me to do it, but I send him the picture I took in the bathroom and hope that it makes him want to return faster.