Meanwhile, the family continues to chatter, and the dinner is more of an experience than a meal due to the fine foods, even finer wine, and excellent company. My days as an escort have taken me to some fancy places, but none like Cippino’s. Course after course is brought to the table and I wonder if Brent’s ordered every single item on the menu. Plate after plate delights and dazzles, and I can’t seem to stop eating. The staff waltzes out with an assortment of breads, salads, soups, escargot, prime meats, and sautéed veggies. We indulge on oysters with a special tangy cocktail sauce, vanilla poached rhubarb, and seared scallops. Finally, at the end there’s an array of sweet treats including chocolate ganache and lemon-thyme sorbet, not to mention an entire cheeseboard. It is an expansive meal, and yet I’m left feeling full but not gorged. I can get used to being married to the CEO of Carson’s Sporting Goods if this is what the meals are going to be like.
But then, just as I’m getting ready to put my napkin down to head to the ladies, Brent makes an announcement. He circles one big arm around my waist and pulls me close to his side.
“Actually, we were wondering if you’re available to meet us at City Hall for the ceremony tomorrow at eleven. Sansa and I want to tie the knot ASAP because we want to start trying for a family immediately. Would that work for you guys?” he asks casually. I try to hold my cool but I feel my eyes bulge.
Tomorrow?! Is he crazy? He didn’t tell me this!
I smile blankly at his family, but fortunately, they don’t notice the terrified expression in my eyes, and chortle with excitement instead.
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Son,” Frank assures him.
“Oh, this is exciting!” Mary coos while clapping her hands. “My eldest son is getting married. I’m so happy, sweetheart,” she says, staring at us with tears in her eyes. “I’ve dreamed of this day for so long.”
“Dum dum-de dum,” is all Neal says while humming the wedding march with a smile. With that, the dinner is concluded and Brent herds me out to the sidewalk, my form limp. We wave goodbye as his family’s car pulls away from the entrance of Cippino’s, and then the handsome man turns to me and softly runs a hand down my cheek. He leans in and whispers in my ear. “You did a wonderful job today as my fake bride to be, Sansa. How about we go home now and start working on those kids right away?”
I turn to stare at him, eyes accusatory, but that blue gaze merely sparkles merrily in return. Still, I need to have a word with this man.
“What do you mean, tomorrow?” I hiss as the valet brings our car around. Brent merely presses a kiss to my cheek before reaching for the keys.
“We’re getting married, what do you think?” he asks, holding the door open for me. I get in, flouncing a bit with indignation.
“But tomorrow? That soon? What’s the rush?”
Brent merely grins.
“The sooner the better, sweetheart. Why, you want to keep pretending? It’s fun, I’ll give you that, but I didn’t think you liked my family that much.”
Those words make me snap my mouth shut.
“Okay, but why didn’t you tell me ahead of time?”
Brent merely shrugs and smiles again while starting the car.
“I figured it would be easier to be spontaneous. Sometimes, when you plan everything in advance, things get complicated and wires get crossed. This way, everything’s a bit simpler. Besides, that was fun, don’t you think? My family is a hoot,” he muses while turning his eyes to the road.
Still, I’m not placated.
“But what was all that talk about kids?” I beseech again. “You must have mentioned our future children to your parents fifty times!”
At that, he goes quiet, his eyes staring straight ahead.
“You’re right, sweetheart, I did lay it on thick in that respect. But it makes Mary and Frank happy, and I find the idea of kids to be invigorating,” he says in a light tone. “I like talking about our future children.”
“You mean our fantasy children,” I say in a short voice, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because our children don’t exist, and won’t exist.”
But Brent merely ignores me, cruising easily through New York traffic as I stare at his handsome profile. There’s a bit of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, and I want to say something, but then turn back to stare straight ahead, shaking my head. This man is impossible. He’s pushy, arrogant, and so used to getting his way, even when things are clearly veering off track. I can only hope that no one gets hurt, and that I make it out of this charade alive.