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“Pop. Listen. I do not want a ceremony. I’ll get it sorted in New York; you guys don’t need to bother; you’ll meet her at some point later.”
“Fine, Son, you can do what you want this time. And as long as you produce a wife that you’re legally married to, you can do the ceremony in your kitchen for all I care.”
“Great.” I stand to leave, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. I’ve failed in my last-ditch attempt to get the archaic clause removed. I now have six weeks to get Stella to marry me.
My dad falls into step beside me, his hand on my shoulder as we leave the gloomy library. “You don’t have to love her, just do right by her and make her happy. That way, she wouldn’t file for a divorce.”
“Uh-uh, sure,” I murmur.
As we reach the top of the long curving staircase, the sight that greets me below draws an amused chuckle out of me. On the couch sit my mother and my baby sister, heads pressed together. Mom’s dark tresses mingle with Gina’s mass of blonde ringlets, and they appear to be engrossed in a magazine.
Somehow, in the hour Dad and I have been in the library, they’ve managed to convene like a covert operations unit.
Gina lives right across the city yet she’s here. And so is Mom, who’s more likely to be spotted at her daily social luncheon than lounging at home at this time. It’s clear they’re not just catching up on celebrity gossip. They’re on a mission to extract every piece of info about my upcoming nuptials.
“They’re done!” Gina exclaims. “I came as soon as I heard you’d touched down in Seattle, Ryan, I even ditched a meeting at work so I could see you before you jetted back to New York. I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you more,” I respond, and she smiles wider. Gina is twenty-six, only four years younger than me but, the whirlwind of drama that surrounds her often makes me feel decades older. Especially with her romantic entanglements. Most of the brawls I’ve been in my life had to do with prying some creepy fucker away from her.
My mother stands and approaches us, all smiles. “Let’s see, no bruises or blood stains, Richard. I dare say it went well.”
“Oh, better than that,” Dad announces. “We have a Fairchild wedding in a few weeks.”
Mom squeals, a spring appearing in her step as she hurries up the stairs. “Well done, Ryan!”
“Don’t get too excited, Di; we’re not invited. It’s just going to be a small kitchen ceremony.”
“Really! Why bother with a ceremony at all then?” My mom gives me a stern look but hugs me firmly. “You might as well exchange your vows on the bed while consummating the marriage.”
I bend to air kiss her cheeks. “Oh, that’s a brilliant idea, Mom. I don’t know why I never thought of it.”
She only shakes her head and tsks.
“Mom, you’ll still get to arrange the big Fairchild welcome to the family party.”
She huffs, “Well, I suppose that’s something to look forward to. Anyway, when do we meet her?”
“When I bring her home.” I state firmly.
“Don’t you think we should meet her before?” She counters
“How will that change anything, Mom?”
“Di, the boy has a point there.” Dad states. “He’ll marry her and be committed to her forever. That’s the bottom line.”
Gina coughs subtly and I throw her a sharp look. A lawyer herself, she knows my exact plans.
Mom, apparently not satisfied, continues. “Can we know her name at least? And is she fully on board with the rushed timeline?”
“Ha, Mom. I don’t think you need to worry about that,” Gina pipes up. “Ryan’s problem has never been getting women to agree. It’s always been how to peel the women off him.”
Except for the ones I really want.
Gina stands and approaches, throwing me a meaningful look. I know she’s concerned about what would happen if the woman doesn’t want to leave. After six months, she becomes entitled to half of everything I own.
After another quick hug Mom moves to Dad, offering her lips for a quick peck, but someone goes in for more, and their lips end up locking.
Gina, who is behind them, rolls her eyes. “Typical.”
