Rule Number Seven: Theo is allowed to pursue Renley but can’t get mad when Renley ignores all advances anddoesn’t even bat an eyelash when he makes his best move. She doesn’t have the time or mental capacity for a relationship or internet fiancé.
“How do you feel?” Rupert asks.
We’re in the backyard of our holiday home. Tall oak trees surround us while a fence borders the property, putting a proper divide between our house and Renley’s. We’re both sitting back in a pair of Adirondack chairs, a fire lit between us. I can hear crickets chirping in the distance, while the fire crackling makes me feel like I’m in a movie or a show that takes place during the summer. The humidity has worn off for the night and the air is actually comfortable. And this nostalgic feeling I have, sitting here, under the stars with a friend and a fire—it’s not something I’ve ever experienced before, but it feels familiar for some reason.
“Hesitant, nervous, interested…”
“Interested?” he asks while he tosses some popcorn in his mouth. We got one of those campfire popcorn things where you hold the pan over the flames, shake it around a lot, and then watch the pan grow and grow with popcorn.
I admit, it’s been the highlight of the trip so far.
“Interested in seeing where this all goes.” I shrug and take a sip of my root beer. “Talking to her today, as I opened up and shared a real conversation with her, I don’t know, it was refreshing, you know? She’s different.”
“She’s different?” Rupert pauses, his hand about to toss another piece of popcorn in his mouth the way Tom Cruise does it. “Hold on a second, are you actually interested in her?”
I stare at the fire, the blue of the flame licking the logs of wood.
“I wouldn’t say that, but I’m glad I chose her from all of the matches, because I doubt I would have lucked out with anyone else.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, she wasn’t on that website to find a fiancé, and I can’t imagine what it would have been like if I met up with another woman. Probably would have already been married and I’d be finding out who my wife is, one toenail clipping bouncing off my forehead at a time.” Rupert shivers. “But also, she’s real. She has aspirations, something to prove, and given the people I usually hang around with, that’s different, admirable.”
“Hey, you hang out with me and I have aspirations.”
“You wish you were a stripper.”
Rupert wiggles his brows. “I prefer ‘entertainer.’”
I shake my head. “Seriously, I think she’s special in her own way and I’m grateful that she’s who she is, because I think this would be harder if the person was…I don’t know, more like me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. I happen to like the person you are.”
“Well, that makes one of you.” I take another sip of my drink and then stare up at the sky, my thoughts running away from me. What would my life be like if I didn’t have it already mapped out for me? If I wasn’t required to take over the family name?
Would I be happy with it?
How would I react to not having everything handed to me? Would I be able to take care of myself?
I honestly don’t know. I’d like to believe that I’d rise to the occasion, but I’ve been fed by a gold fucking spoon my entire life, and I guess there’s only one way to find out.
“So you’re actually going to go through with this?” Rupert asks. “Like you’re going to try to marry her?”
I shrug. “It seems insane, I know, but I can’t let him win.”
I think back to the conversation with my father, how much he disapproves of my life choices—not that I really approve of them either, but I hate that the pompous prick thinks so little of me that he thinks he can just set me up with his friend’s daughter. That he has that much control over my life.
I’m destined to follow in his footsteps out of duty—he’s told me it’s not only my right but my family obligation to do so. He’s controlled every aspect of my life from my future to my education to my bloody haircut and I’ll be damned if he controls this as well—or at least I’ll go down fighting.
So yeah, I’m doing this.
“I can’t let him control this aspect of my life as well,” I say to Rupert.
“She’s a stranger. Mate, do you really think you’ll find someone that you not only will get along with, but you’ll be able to convince to marry you?”
I mull that over, because the odds are not even close to being in my favor. But if I’m anything like my father, I’m stubborn, and I would rather die trying than let him choose someone for me.
“Looks like there’s only one way to find out.”
