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“Knows?” I said, and she nodded.
“The reason everyone else is waiting is because Ethan is officially introducing you to the family. Everyone has to welcome you,” she replied.
“I’m waiting for my welcome then.” I grinned at her.
“Why do I have a feeling I’ve created a monster?” she mut
tered when she hugged me.
I didn’t say anything in return.
“So when do we eat?” Sedric glanced around for the food, and Darcy followed. One by one they left us, and I turned to him.
“Why does it feel like they are looking for reasons to leave us?” I muttered to myself.
“Because they are.” He faced me, his hand reaching up to tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “They’re making way for other people to congratulate us. So smile.”
“Haven’t I been?”
He thought for a moment. “Correction, look as though you’re in love with me.”
Again I forced myself not to smile, saying, “What does that look like?”
“That.” His gaze moved to the Jessica Rabbit look-alike, with the red hair and dress, walking up to us with a few others.
“Ethan!” She sounded a little peppy. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you. Ivy, this is Klarissa Moretti,” he introduced us. “Klarissa, my fiancée, Ivy O’Davoren.”
“Nice to meet you, Klarissa, thank you for coming,” I said, knowing full well it would annoy her.
“Of course. Ethan and I go way back.” Her eyes flickered to him and then back to me. “Congrats. It’s not easy being the new Mrs. Callahan.”
“Maybe for some. For me it was love at first sight.” I leaned into him more, and her jaw clenched.
“You’re a lucky man, Ethan. It’s a pleasure, Ms. O’Davoren,” one of the men beside her spoke, followed by another.
“You’re an absolute vision.”
And another.
“Your dress is gorgeous.”
They circled us like sharks would a beach full of seals, speaking and laughing all at once, complimenting me left and right to the point that it became repetitive.
“Ethan,” Klarissa spoke up, and whoever she was, people lowered their voices, allowing her to speak, “your gift.”
She nodded for someone to come over and handed her champagne to one of the maids, as the box was handed to her. “Came in from Paris an hour ago.”
“From Paris? I’m excited.”
I turned to him, unlocking our arms for him to open it.
Stepping forward, he flipped the tabs open to reveal…
“A pistol of Napoleon I,” she said proudly, as Ethan lifted the thing from the padded box.
“La victoire appartient aux plus persévérants,” he read with a perfect French accent, and she smiled, nodding.
