As he settled back in his seat, he readjusted the napkin on his lap and turned a pleased smile onto Iva. “You know what that means, my dear,” he said. “I’ll be able to start my succession plan and half-retire in the next year.”
Gideon frowned. “Succession plan? Retire?You?” He laughed, although he knew it must sound forced, based on the way Iva was watching him.
“Of course, my dear boy. I promised myself—and Iva—that once you settled down and decided to get married, whenever it was, I would start easing up myself and begin to retire.”
His grandfather wassopleased. Gideon didn’t ever think he’d seen him as happy, other than when he’d first introduced him to Iva.
She was still looking at him, her bright blue eyes steady. But there was worry painted in them.
She hadn’t congratulated him.
She hadn’t said a word, in fact.
Gideon felt his middle twist and he took a sip of water laced with lemon.
The ring he’d bought for Rachel weighed down his pocket. Its box bore the gold-stamped logo of one of the finest jewelers in Grand Rapids, and he knew Rachel would be pleased to flaunt it.
He was going to bring it to her after dinner tonight. Perhaps he should have invited her to join them at Grove, but somehow he knew it would be best to talk with Grandfather—and Iva of course—first.
The ring itself had been easy to select: a single, square-cut ice-white diamond set in platinum, two carats of colorless brilliance that would look lovely on any woman’s hand—but most especially with Rachel’s perfectly manicured, white-tipped fingernails.
The pit of his stomach felt deep and heavy as he’d fingered through the diamonds spread out on a purple velvet cloth earlier today.
How different his choice would be if he were selecting a ring for Fiona. She’d want something as unique as she was; something colorful like bold sapphires, or maybe a dark yellow diamond set in warm or rose gold, instead of colorless ice—
And how foolish of him to allow that thought to enter his mind.
The fact was—the cold fact he had to keep reminding himself— Fiona had seized the opportunity to rush him out of her life the moment he gave her a reason. He’d hardly had the words out; he hadn’t even been able to tell her what he was thinking, what he thought was the best option…
Obviously, her insecurities and inability to commit to anything had won out in the end—and, Gideon mused, it was just as well.
Whateverhedid, he was in for the long haul.
Fiona didn’t have it in her to tackle anything for the long haul, and she’d made that clear.
A wife like Rachel Backley—an executive, a powerhouse of a businesswoman and stunning to boot—would serve him and his grandfather’s practice much better than an impetuous, airy-fairypalm-readerwould. Chances were, Fiona would get bored with her antiques shop anyway and move onto greener pastures within months.
With a start, Gideon realized that both Iva and his grandfather were looking at him expectantly from across the table.
Kindness, perhaps even pity, glinted in her eyes as Iva spoke. “You don’t seem very happy about it, Gideon. Is it too soon for you? Are you rushing into this?”
“No. Rachel and I have been together for over three years, so I wouldn’t consider it rushing into anything.” Gideon said the words with a deep-seated calm that he absolutely did not feel.
Inside, his stomach roiled and his head hurt.
Gideon Senior stared at him, setting down his drink without looking. It would have ended up in his lap if Iva hadn’t snatched it up from a free-fall.
“What the hell are you talking about?” bellowed the older man, sitting up abruptly as the diners at the next table turned to look at them. “Gideon?”
“Calm down, dear.” Iva had already begun to soothe the troubled waters. “Can’t you see Gideon is in shock?”
“In shock?Of course he’s in shock, Iva—for God’s sake, he’s marrying the wrong woman. He’s going to make the same mistake I made—three times!” The elder Nath made no effort to keep his voice or opinions circumspect and more people were looking.
“Gideon, I’m sure that you knew your grandfather and I were expecting you’d be announcing your engagement to Fiona—not Rachel. And although it’s none of our business” —these last words were accompanied by a black glare at her companion— “if you’d like to talk a little about what happened, we’d listen.” Her round cheeks seemed deflated, and a paler pink than usual, and the glint usually smiling in her eyes had disappeared.
It was definitely pity and concern that he saw there in Iva’s expression—neither of which he felt like responding to.
“It wasn’t going to work out with Fiona,” he told them simply, having rehearsed this speech previously. “We both realized it before it was too late, thank goodness. We’re just not from the same worlds. Rachel’s more my type, and I just decided it was time to stop messing around with a bit of eye candy. My life’s more serious than Fiona’s. She just doesn’t get it.”
