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He climbed in next to me and started the car. “We should be fashionably late, as requested.”
I panicked a little over that decision, knowing my tardiness would grate on my mother’s nerves. Considering I was going to be wearing something completely over-the-top, arriving fifteen or twenty minutes late might push the envelope.
Too late to do anything about that now. I couldn’t turn back time and have him arrive earlier. I seriously had to shore up the defenses and jump into this idea with both feet. It really was an all-or-nothing game plan.
I made small talk on the drive to Napa while, in the back of my mind, I played out how I hoped the engagement party would go. The closer we got to the vineyard, the less chatty I felt.
Ten or fifteen minutes of silence passed. He asked, “You okay?”
I nodded. “Just freaking out a little. Maybe we should have left earlier so we could stop off for a drink before the party.”
He reached over and put his hand on my leg, giving it a squeeze. “Relax. We’ll rock it. Your family won’t know what hit them.”
We took the turn onto the long, winding road of the vineyard. When we reached the parking lot, I could barely breathe. It was filled with cars I recognized. The Bentleys, the Mercedes, the Jaguars. The Carlisle clan was out in spades. So too were the Corbetts.
I looked at Michael. “Maybe this is bad idea.”
“Oh, hell no.” He shut off the engine and got out of the car. “We’re in it to win it.”
I did a last-minute makeup and hair check and freshened my lipstick. I took a deep breath as the car door opened. Michael offered me his hand. Letting him help me out of the car, I gripped his hand so tightly he frowned.
“Hey, chill.”
I nodded and took a deep breath. “No turning back now.”
He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. “You look fantastic. Don’t doubt it for a second. You’ll be the hottest woman here.”
I laughed. “You’re definitely good for my ego—and my nerve.”
Grinning at me, he said, “I’m actually looking forward to seeing you pull this off. I love witnessing a much-deserved comeuppance.”
“Just cross your fingers I don’t screw it up.”
He gave me a little squeeze. “Chin up.”
I lifted it a notch. Squared my shoulders. Ignored the tumble my stomach took as we crossed the asphalt parking lot. Yes, I was nervous, but having such a successful, intelligent and kindhearted man by my side was empowering. Comforting, even, because I knew he was a true friend.
“You really are a gem,” I told him.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
I actually smiled as we entered what Michael had so adequately termed the lion’s den.
In reality, it was a large white tent set up on the event lawn of the winery. The forecast called for a late-afternoon drizzle. Inside the tent, heaters kept the air toasty. A good thing, because I’d bypassed the overcoat, not wanting anything to detract from the dress.
As we walked in, my cousins Martin and Matthew did a double take. Uncle Lawrence gasped.
Aunt Judith narrowed her eyes as though staring at a mirage. “Fiona?” she asked, not quite recognizing me.
I greeted everyone as we passed by. Within seconds, heads snapped in our direction and conversations waned. Michael lifted two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and handed one to me. I took it with shaky fingers, but felt much steadier when he placed his free hand against the small of my back.
I held my head a little higher and smiled at the guests, all doing double takes now, or craning their necks to look at us. I’m sure they were all shocked I’d had the guts to come to the party. Even more stunned, considering how I looked and whom I was with.
Michael bent his head and whispered in my ear, “You are definitely giving them something to talk about.”
He’d barely gotten the words out when Aunt Delia said, “Good Lord. You look…stunning.”
I was about to thank her when my mother’s high-and-mighty shrill suddenly filled the air. “Fiona Leslie Carlisle.” Disappointment. I recognized the tone.
