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She stills. "Oh my god, Jackson. How many?"
"There are about a hundred more people coming tonight and 50 of them are already downstairs."
"You what?" Her jaw drops. "50 people?"
"No, a hundred people. 50 people are already here."
She glares at me. "I don't want to have to say hello to a hundred people and pretend that I'm in love with you."
"Is it that hard to pretend that you're in love with me?" I say, pulling her hair so that she's looking at me.
"Jackson, what do you want me to say?"
"Maybe I want you to say that you find me very lovable."
"Okay. I find you very lovable," she says quickly, and my heart thuds. For a moment. I want the words to be true, but that's crazy because I don't even know this lady, and I certainly don't want her to love me. I kiss her on the nose and she lets out a sigh. "Come on then. Let me go and meet your folks."
"My parents aren't here." My voice is monotone.
“Oh.” She looks surprised, but I’m not. They just don’t care.
"Actually, my granddad went to play golf as well." I shake my head. "I think that's where my dad is, and I think my mom's shopping." I pause. "I guess you can tell how much they all care about meeting my fiancée. Just my grandma's here." I run my hands through my hair. “I suppose you’re wondering why this is such a big deal, if no one in my life really cares about me.”
"I care," she says, grabbing my hand. Her face is soft.
"What?"
"You think your grandma's the only one that cares about you, but I care as well."
"Are you saying that as my fake fiancée or-"
"I'm saying that as someone that knows you, and I just want you to know that even though this is a really weird twisted situation, and even though I hate you right now for leaving me tied up to the bed, I care about you."
She looks sincere, and it almost makes it hard for me to breathe.
"Thank you," I say, my heart thuds. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in the pitt of my stomach and a buzzing in my ears. Her brown eyes are blazing and the way she’s holding my hand makes my heart jump. Zara Hathaway is special. And beautiful. The most caring person I’ve ever met in my life. She makes me feel like I matter. She makes me feel like more than just a handsome, rich man. She sees me for more than that. It feels nice being seen. It feels nice having a connection with someone.
Zara Hathaway, I think I’m falling in love with you. The thought hits me in the head, as if it were the voice of God and I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry. I’m falling in love with this beautiful, feisty, compassionate, woman.
"You're welcome. Now let me go and dazzle your grandma and her best friend, Maisy." She lets go of my hand, pats her hair and takes a deep breath. I want to tell her that I don’t even care what they think of her because I love her just as she is, but I don’t want her to think I’m crazy.
How in the heck can I have gone over three decades with never falling in love and after a couple of weeks be madly in love with her. It didn’t make sense.
Only, I knew that the universe worked in mysterious ways.
Zara Hathaway was meant to walk in my life. I just needed to figure out a way to keep her there.
I open the door, and we head down the corridor towards the stairs. I feel her stiffen next to me as she looks down at the throngs of rich people gathered in crowds, laughing and talking.
"Shit,” She moans under her breath. "These people are going to know I'm a fraud."
"Just be yourself. They're going to love you." Like I do.
"They're not going to love me. I am a noone. I don't know anyone famous. I don't have any money. What am I going to talk about? The fact that I had a one-night stand with you? That I used to work at a construction company and got fired because I didn't sleep with my boss? Or the fact that I went to apply for a job at Rosser International and I wasn't there for five minutes before you told me you weren't going to hire me? Or maybe I should tell them about the evening I went to try and make $1500 at a club and a guy offered me $10,000 for my panties, and then you took me into another room and I nearly fucked you on the couch until my nephew started throwing up and I had to rush and go and help him?" She gasps and takes a deep breath. "Which one of those stories do you want me to mention?"
I chuckle slightly. "Well, when you put it like that, maybe we're in a little bit of trouble."
"I guess I can talk about my cupcakes, and maybe about the fact that I want to go to law school?" She lets out a long sigh and wrinkles her nose.
