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"It is starting to ache again actually."
"You must have been so frightened when it happened." She focused on the bandage covering my right hand. "Was it terribly painful?"
"It wasn't really. That's the ironic thing. The knife injury didn't hurt, in fact I didn't even feel it happen. It was the sight of all the blood that got me. I just can't tolerate looking at it. I basically passed out and don't remember very much about last night." I smiled at James and then leaned into him a bit. "If it wasn't for your son helping me, I don't know where I'd be right now."
Judge Blakney said, "You'll have to work on that when you start a family. Children bloody themselves all the time."
Excuse me, but what?
Where in the hell had that comment come from?
I gave the judge my best resting bitch face and shrugged. "It's a very good thing I intend to focus on my career for the moment, then."
Judge Blakney raised a challenging eyebrow, first at me and then at his son, but kept any comments to himself. Probably a smart move on his part based on the anger James was throwing off in tense waves. His
whole body was stiff beside me yet again. Clearly, his father irritated the hell out of him. His dad was an ass.
I marveled at how the judge could effortlessly turn any topic into something weird and mysterious, while Mrs. Blakney did her best to defuse the awkwardness her husband's comments caused. And she's had over thirty years to perfect it. Definitely a saint. Jesus, how the heck did she put up with him?
"What color is your dress for The Autumn Ball?" she inquired in an attempt to change the subject. "Victoria and I just had our fittings earlier this week."
"Black," I answered. "I know it's not very festive, but I love the dress, and it just…works very well…for me this year."
She reached across the table and squeezed my undamaged hand in the sweetest gesture of comfort.
She understood. She totally got that I was still mourning the loss of my father and didn't feel particularly celebratory at attending this first major charity event since he'd passed. And I greatly appreciated her silent message to me.
"I have some stunning opera-length gloves I'd like to show you that would probably go nicely with your black gown. They are a beautiful dark coral. Nobody will ever know you've hurt your hand if you wear them."
"How kind of you, Mrs. Blakney. I would love to see them. That's a really good idea for accessorizing this year," I said, holding up my bandaged hand. "I'm going to need something pretty to cover up this ugly thing."
"Oh, please call me Vanessa, or even better just Mom…if you prefer," she said with another sweet smile.
Ohh-kay then. This whole afternoon just kept getting weirder by the hour.
I nodded and smiled back at her while squeezing James's hand under the table for some kind of reassurance.
He leaned in and whispered, "They all adore you, even my prick of a father thinks you're perfect."
Perfect for what, exactly? His father thought my career choice was substandard at best and would…do until I started a family. Call me Mom? They thought there was something between James and me? How ridiculous.
Yet.
He'd suggested we get married on the way over… Had he said something to his parents before I arrived to make them believe that? Like this was a test run, or something?
Was James truly serious about his offer to marry me?
Chapter Eleven
JAMES
The reason I was happier than I could ever remember being—after spending an entire afternoon tolerating the company of my dickhead father—was sitting beside me in my car, smelling divine and looking beautiful.
I might have lost my mind during the course of the day, saying things I probably shouldn't have said, but I was actually happy for once.
And feeling very selfish—if I had to put a word to it—because even the limited discussion of a marriage of convenience didn't worry me. I already knew I wanted to keep her. I saw her face when I mentioned dissolution on the way over. I'd felt like such a bastard for using that word about our marriage. It was a lie.
My doubts and fears about bringing Winter into my life were being blown away bit by bit. The way she'd handled my dad today was nothing short of brilliant. Nobody pushed Winter Blackstone around and had an easy time of it. And I started toying with the idea that maybe it could work with us. My father's threat wasn't going away. I could see how ecstatic he was at the prospect of having a Blackstone in the family. Hell, he'd probably be calling me before Monday to ask the date we'd chosen for our big day. Not happening, Dad.
