"I signed off on all the costs related to the upcoming nuptials—"
"Your own engagement party. You didn’t come to it. You left her alone to face her family and friends." Her tone rises. Her cheeks are flushed. You’d think she was talking about her own wedding, not that of her friend. In fact, it’s more entertaining to talk to her than discuss business matters with my employees.How interesting.
"You also didn’t show up for most of the rehearsals." She glowers.
"I did show up for the last one."
"Not that it made any difference. You were either checking your watch and indicating that it was time for you to leave, or you were glowering at the plans being discussed."
"I still agreed to that god-awful wedding cake, didn’t I?
"On the other hand, it’s probably good you didn’t come for the previous rehearsals. If you had, Lila and I might have had this conversation earlier—"
"Aha!" I straighten. "So, you confess that it’s because of you Lila walked away from this wedding."
She tips her head back. "Hardly. It’s because of you."
"So you say, but your guilt is written large on your face."
"Guilt?" Her features flush. The color brings out the dewy hue of her skin, and the blue of her eyes deepens until they remind me of forget-me-nots. No, more like the royal blue of the ink that spilled onto my paper the first time I attempted to write with a fountain pen.
"The only person here who should feel guilty is you, for attempting to coerce an innocent, young woman into an arrangement that would have trapped her for life."
Anger thuds at my temples. My pulse begins to race. "I never have to coerce women. And what you call being trapped is what most women call security. But clearly, you wouldn’t know that, considering" —I wave my hand in the air— "you prefer to run your kitchen-table business which, no doubt, barely makes ends meet."
She loosens her grip on her pencil, and it falls to the table with a clatter. Sparks flash deep in her eyes.
You know what I said earlier about the royal blue? Strike that. There are flickers of silver hidden in the depths of her gaze. Flickers that blaze when she’s upset. How would it be to push her over the edge? To be at the receiving end of all that passion, that fervor, that ardor… that absolute avidness of existence when she’s one with the moment? How would it feel to rein in her spirit, absorb it, drink from it, revel in it, and use it to spark color into my life?
"Kitchen-table business?" She makes a growling sound under her breath. "You dare come into my office and insult my enterprise? The company I have grown all by myself—"
"And outside of your assistant" —I nod toward the door I came through— "you’re the sole employee, I take it?"
Her color deepens. "I work with a group of vendors—"
I scoff, "None of whom you could hold accountable when they don’t deliver."
"—who have been carefully vetted to ensure that they always deliver," she says at the same time. "Anyway, why do you care, since you don’t have a wedding to go to?"
"That’s where you’re wrong." I peel back my lips. "I’m not going to be labeled as the joke of the century. Not after all the media has labelled it 'the wedding of the century’." I make air quotes with my fingers.
It was Isla’s idea to build up the wedding with the media. She also wanted to invite influencers from all walks of life to attend, but I have no interest in turning my nuptials into a circus. So, I vetoed the idea of journalists attending in person. I have, however, agreed to the event being recorded by professionals and exclusive clips being shared with the media and the influencers. This way, we’ll get the necessary PR coverage, without the media being physically present.
In all fairness, the publicity generated by the upcoming nuptials has already been beneficial. It’s not like I’ll ever tell her, but Isla was right to feed the public’s interest in the upcoming event. Apparently, not even the most hard-nosed investors can resist the warm, fuzzy feelings that a marriage invokes. And this can only help with the IPO I have planned for the most important company in my portfolio. "I have a lot riding on this wedding."
"Too bad you don’t have a bride."
"Ah," —I smirk— "but I do."
She scowls. "No, you don’t. Lila—"
"I’m not talking about her."
"Then who are you talking about?"
"You."
4