“Is there bread?” I sigh.
Dad pulls out a baguette.
“Perfect. You girls can eat and help me work on the chair covers for your brother’s wedding.”
“Goddamn it,” Gran swears, thumping in wearing a bright-purple jumpsuit with a big black fur coat. “You girls are wasting away your youth here. Get dressed into something that doesn’t make you look like a funeral extra. We’re going to hit the town.”
“I had a long day…”
“You call up that boy,” Gran tells me, “and have him come meet us all. We’re going on a triple date.”
“I don’t have a date,” Piper reminds her.
“I have friends.” Gran winks.
“Are they paying for dinner?” Piper asks flatly.
“Dani’s dating a billionaire—he’ll pay.”
“Don’t take advantage of poor Graham,” my mom chides.
“Text him,” Gran orders.
I know it’s just going to piss Graham off, and I’m too hungry to deal, so I just text Colette instead.
Dani:Did you guys choose a paper yet?
Colette immediately responds with a long list of items she wants me to add to my to-do wedding list.
And no paper selection.
“Dani, why don’t you put on that new dress I bought you—the green one with the flowers?” Mom calls.
“You wear that dress out in public with me, Dani,” Gran warns, “and I’m disowning you.”
Dad hands me a container of pistachios.
“You can take these to Graham. Tell him I saw them and thought he might enjoy them.”
“You didn’t even ask him?”Piper hisses.
“It’s just—I’m starting to rethink this whole fake-dating kidnapping situation.” I give her the rundown of what happened last night.
“I mean, when does this end—at the wedding?” I fret. “Maybe I should break it off before then. He’s clearly crazy and dangerous.”
My cousin punches my arm. “Who cares what his family situation is like? My own grandmother brought a homeless fashion designer as my date. And I think he and Toni are going to stiff us with the bill. You know what you need to do? You need to have sex with Graham and get pregnant.”
I shudder at the thought of Graham with a baby. Possessive, angry, crazy? That probably wouldn’t even begin to describe it. It would send him right over the edge.
I bet he’d never let me so much as hold the baby.
“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?” Gran says loudly as we head into the restaurant. Not Camelli’s, unfortunately, because in these trying times a girl needs pasta. Osteria di Luca, but they have good truffle fries.
“Awww!” Toni kneels down in front of me and rests his head against my belly. “There’s a little baby in there.”
The waiter gives me a judgmental look as I reach for the wine menu.
“I’m not pregnant! I just stress eat!” I shriek.
