Brock paid the photographer no heed and led us to the front and center table where his family and Jill’s family sat. I felt as if I were a lamb being brought to the slaughter. Though this lamb wasn’t going to go down easily. I would fight like a lion for my child and myself.
All eyes were on us—except Brant’s, as he did his best to never look at me in public—while Brock pulled out my chair, which was covered in sequins, I might add. It was going to make the night even more uncomfortable. Brock seated me between himself and his mother, probably because he didn’t want me to sit next to Brant. I didn’t care why; I was just grateful for it.
Sheridan patted my knee as soon as we were seated, giving me an ounce of courage and comfort. I was going to need it, based on the way Jill and her mother were pursing their lips and narrowing their eyes at me. However, it had nothing on the sinister smile Edward Copeland was giving me from across the table. I had a feeling he was in the mood for lamb chops.
“Here are the newlyweds.” Edward’s beady, dark eyes darted between me and Brock. His white hair and translucent skin made him appear ethereal, making my skin prickle. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting the new Mrs. Holland.” He flashed me a capped-tooth smile. “And here she is, every bit as lovely as everyone says she is.”
“Thank you,” I forced myself to say.
“I’m Edward, and this is my wife, Francine.” He waved his hand toward his wife, seated next to him. She plastered on a fake smile, but in her eyes I could see she had marked me as her enemy.
“Nice to meet you both. Jill has mentioned you often,” I replied graciously before setting my sights on Jill. “You look beautiful tonight,” I lied through my teeth. It was worth it, though, to see her squirm, knowing she had to respond in kind.
She cleared her throat and sat up straight. “You as well.” Oh, that hurt her.
I refused to give any of them any more of my time. I set my sights on Brock, who was already doing a good job of playing the attentive husband with an adoring gaze. I, too, was ready to give the performance of a lifetime. I leaned in and kissed him chastely once on the lips.
“Young love is grand.” Edward lifted his glass of wine to us and then to Brant and Jill. “How fortuitous it has come at precisely the right moment for everyone,” he said, with more than a hint of warning.
I pretended not to be fazed at all by his firing shot. Though my stomach churned. Did he know whose baby I carried? How? Did it matter? I had to fix this. I laughed and tapped Brock’s nose playfully. “After fourteen years of chasing him, I wouldn’t call it the right moment. Perhaps wearing him down might be more appropriate.”
Everyone laughed except Brock, who took my hand and kissed it. “I was the world’s biggest fool.”
Wow. His dad must have had some talk with him. I felt his lie in the far reaches of my soul. My soul that longed for it to be true. At least Brock was valiantly doing his part, saving my baby, who he probably would never love. Even saving me, though he probably resented it.
“I won’t disagree with you,” I purred before kissing him again. I prayed my lips would someday become immune to how alive they felt every time they collided with Brock’s. That the desire for a real future between us would fade.
“Well, maybe you aren’t the only fool.” Edward held his glass to us again, as if to say, “Touché.” Or perhaps to toast our award-winning performance. I couldn’t be sure. One thing I knew: He had his suspicions.
Thankfully, John knew how to play this wicked game as well. He held his glass of sparkling water up to Brant and Jill. “A toast to the future Mr. and Mrs. Holland—may they be as happy as all those who now bear the title.”
We each picked up a glass to toast Brant and Jill.
Jill awkwardly kissed Brant on the corner of his mouth. Brant did his best to smile and act as if he enjoyed it.
I thought I might get to breathe for a moment when the food started being served. Unfortunately, dinner was a creamy garlic chicken that was making me want to vomit. Yet, if I could fake a marriage, I could force myself not to get sick. Hopefully. And I had assumed the conversation would revolve around the engaged couple. Sadly, I was wrong again.
Not a second after the servers had left the table, Edward was back at it. “Brock and Dani, I find it odd that you two haven’t honeymooned yet. What’s the delay? I hope neither of you are having any health issues.”