Her cool mask cracks a little to show a glimpse of longing. Guess she wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted a great-grandchild to spoil. Andreas presses his thin lips together, the gesture bringing out the fine lines around his mouth. His forehead creases as he narrows his eyes in thought.
“Pregnant?” Mom looks at me like a hostile witness. “How did you meet this woman? You’ve never mentioned her before.” The antagonistic, lawyerly gleam in her eye says she wants to bring up the twenty-five percent stake of the agency to hand over to Grandma, but Emma is here. We aren’t supposed to discuss such details in front of outsiders.
“We don’t have the kind of relationship where I tell you everything.” My voice is as smooth and cold as the marble in the mansion as I let my gaze sweep over Mom and Grandma. “But if you must know, we met a couple of years ago when I gave her a ride. We reconnected recently, and the rest is…” I shrug.
“Are you sure it’s your baby? She could be lying.” Vivienne’s screechy voice cuts through the room.
I cock an eyebrow. “Sounds like a bit of projection there.”
Fury and embarrassment color her face. Hurt glitters in her eyes, brimming with unshed tears.She honestly thought I’d pick her. Good lord.Just how did Andreas end up with a granddaughter like that? I’d wonder whether Karie cheated on Nelson, but Vivienne has her father’s eyes.
“Don’t be rude to my sister!” Mick’s fist hits the table, but it’s a muted blow as his eyes dart to Andreas, then flick back to me.
Chickenshit.“She insulted my fiancée. Not to mention my first child.”
“Fiancée?” Mick’s eyes nearly bulge out.
I smile charmingly. “Of course. I had to propose. After all, it was my duty. And we all know how my familyadoresthe idea of duty.”
Grandma’s face is the weirdest combination of happiness and defeat. Mom narrows her eyes like she’d love nothing more than to cross-examine me until I fess up the truth. She’s too smart to buy this at face value.
Emma nods. “It is the right thing to do,” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. She’s probably thinking about how shamefully Ted treated her and the six other women who were pregnant with his babies. Marriage was off the table, but he’d pay for an abortion or child support, whichever the women preferred. He didn’t want to waste mental energy on the babies in their wombs.
“You son of a bitch! You did this on purpose, dragging it out, stringing Viv along for years!” Mick shouts.
Next to him, Nelson looks the other way, a corner of his mouth twisted upward. It’s a slightly sour expression, but he’s probably relieved that his son is doing a good job of being the bad guy. Bill and Patricia drink more wine, looking everywhere but at the others. Alaric thumbs through his phone—probably annoyed that he’s stuck here when he could be doing billablework. Only Andreas is observing me with an unblinking stare, as if searching for a weakness to exploit.
“I never promised to marry a Webber. What options did you provide? Her”—I gesture at Vivienne—“and some girl who’s too busy spending twenty-five-thousand dollars a month to show her face anywhere. Why should I tie myself to either one? Would you have chosen one of them, Andreas?”
“They’re my grandchildren. The question is moot,” he says smoothly.
Spoken like a lawyer, but we all know the truth.
Karie shifts, then lets out an impatient breath. “The contract—”
“Will be broken,” I say coolly. “John Highsmith will take care of it.”
Grandma, Mom and Uncle Prescott glare at me like I’ve just backstabbed them in public. Andreas, Bill, Nelson and Mick look like I’ve just pissed all over their favorite dessert. My cousins drink more wine without making eye contact with anybody, and Alaric doesn’t lift his head from his phone. Emma is the only one who looks clueless about what this means. She’s unaware of the intense rivalry between Huxley & Webber and Highsmith, Dickson and Associates.
“You’ll fail. Highsmith isn’t good enough,” Mom says stiffly.
I smile with satisfaction. She wouldn’t be this tense if she wasn’t at least somewhat worried. “We’ll see. Regardless, I won’t be marrying a Webber.” I turn to my grandmother. “And you can stop setting up dates for me. It’s disrespectful to my fiancée.”
Just then, I hear a quick clicking of heels on marble and stand up. Grace walks in hurriedly, wearing a black dress that hugs her curves and heels that elongate her shapely legs. Her unbound hair bounces around her shoulders, and the fire-engine red on her siren’s lips is hot.
Everyone at the table turns, and she halts. Shock and confusion settle on her face. It’s understandable; I told her it was going to be just my family with about eight people at the most.
I walk to her and give her a brief kiss. “Some uninvited guests, although you’ll love Emma,” I murmur.
She nods vaguely as she takes in the scene. Unease tightens her brow. I place a soothing hand on her shoulder and turn to face our audience.Showtime.
“Everyone, meet my fiancée, Grace Lain.”
A long stretch of silence follows. Emma looks at us with loving approval. On the other hand, Grandmother has an inexplicable expression overlaid with a glimmer of…triumph? Mom cocks an eyebrow, then reaches for the humidor closest to her with a soft chuckle. How can the current situation be a win for my family? Andreas’s shoulders sag with…dare I say relief? Nelson slaps his forehead, and Karie turns red. Mick starts to laugh quietly, tears beading in the corners of his eyes.
Apprehension slices into my gut. Instinct screams that I’ve stepped into a trap, but how could that be?
Most importantly, how did they manage to set me up without tipping their hand?
