Her back is straight. She folds her legs at the ankles, placing her hands in her lap. She’s paired her outfit with red-soled pumps from a famous brand which must be as expensive as the choker of pearls around her neck.
With her rigid posture and her absolute stillness belied only by those sharp eyes, she feels almost royal in her demeanor.
I risk a glance at James’ face to find him watching me with that familiar emotionless expression on his face. Only, I also spot a question in his eyes. One which asks me if I’m okay. Strange, I can bet I wouldn’t have spotted it even a month ago. Perhaps, I’m getting to know him enough to interpret his expressions?
This is where the fact that I’ve worked so closely with him has led to such an intimate knowledge of his mannerisms. It’s where the lines are beginning to get blurred between my boss and my husband to-be. I gulp. It’s the first time I’ve allowed myself to think of him in that fashion. And it feels overwhelming. I feel the blood drain from my face and struggle to bring my emotions under control.
I’ve done so well. I can’t let Margot notice that this entire experience might be turning out to be more intense than I realized. My breath comes in fits and starts. I’m beginning to panic when there’s a touch on my shoulder. I turn to meet James’ steady gaze. His blue eyes blaze with reassurance. His entire stance radiates certainty. A silent promise that I’m not alone. My heartbeat slows down. My breathing evens out.
He squeezes my shoulder and lets go.
Feeling much calmer, I turn to Margot. She’s been watching our entire interaction with great interest.
Her eyes gleam. There’s a small smile playing around her lips, which she instantly straightens out. I instinctively know that she doesn’t wantus to realize that she’s pleased with us. Apparently, hiding emotions runs in the family.
"I am told you work with James?"
"I’m his sous chef." I nod.
"I’m sure you’re the best in the business; otherwise, my grandson wouldn’t have hired you." She taps her fingers on the arm of the chair.
The massive diamond ring on her finger makes a clacking noise, somehow emphasizing her words.
Does she mean hired me to work with him? Or hired me to be his fake wife? But that's ridiculous. Margot wouldn't know about our arrangement. I shoot a sideways glance at James to find he’s impassive.
Which means, he noticed his grandma’s insinuation.
"She is the best among the upcoming culinary talent, which is why I took her on to be my sous chef. And she is my wife to-be." James’ voice is casual.
But a thread of warning runs through his words.
Margot catches it and tilts her head. Her expression is almost catlike in its appreciation. It’s as if she baited us to see how James would react. Damn, this woman is a formidable opponent.
I’m getting a sense of how she’s kept her place at the top of the food chain.
It would not be wise to underestimate her. Which I haven’t from the moment I saw her, but I had given her a certain amount of concession because of her age—which I just wiped away. I need to treat her like a shark. On par with James…but in a different league, for she also wields considerable influence over him. Something I can use to my advantage, perhaps?
"I understand that our upcoming marriage may have come as a surprise to you, but?—"
"Oh, pssh." She waves a hand in the air. "I gave James an ultimatum. There's a lot of money at stake. Although, just that wouldn’t have provided the necessary incentive to spur him on to take action."
"What do you mean?" James leans forward in his seat. There’s a half surprised-half-I’ll-be-damned look on his face.
"Who do you think alerted your investors to the fact that the viral video would possibly drag down your reputation unless you did something about it?"
"You did?" My jaw drops.
"Margot, you didn’t." James’ voice is shocked.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen him display so much emotion before. Perhaps, the two times we’ve kissed I’ve felt him close to breaking through the barriers he puts on himself. Other than that, now might be the first time I’ve seen this consternation on his features.
"You spoke with Alfie?" he frowns.
"Of course, I did. You didn’t think I’d use this opportunity to get what I want?"
"Which is your younger son and your grandkids settling down?" He draws down his eyebrows.
The tips of his ears turn white.
