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“Nope.”
She threads her arm through mine, and with a soft kiss to my jaw she says, “It’ll be fine. I’ll hold on the whole time.”
“You’re stuck on me.”
“I’m stuck on you.” Leaning closer, her lips right by my ear, she whispers, “Just think, I’m not wearing anything under this dress.”
My eyes flash to hers and she shrugs looking very pleased with herself.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Nothing,” she mouths, as if I need clarification.
Great, now this can be the longest evening of my life.
* * *
The car stops right in front of the Whitehall Palace Banqueting House, and immediately the flashes of the cameras have me cringing.
“It’s not that bad.” Fluffing her hair, Cassie pops her freshly glossed lips. “And just think…” Leaning down she picks up the hem of her dress like she’s checking her shoes, but from the way her fingers trail up the inside of her calf as she looks up at me, I know exactly what she wants me to think about. “We’ll be home in no time.”
Christopher looks between us with a shrug, like he, too, is reminding me of our conversation.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe I should ask her rather than wait for her to say something on it?
“Can we make this quick, I really need a pee? I might have an accident if we stop for too long.” Arabella hoists up the lace bodice of her red ball gown, squirming in her seat.
With both of their dresses the limo seems half the size and so tight that it’s stifling.
“You went before we left.” Christopher takes her small red bag and steps out as the door is opened by the valet.
“That was a whole twenty minutes ago.” She groans as he reaches in and helps her out with Wayne already at his side.
They pause long enough in front of the opening so that Cassie and I can move next to the door.
“Stay close,” I tell her as I slip out.
“Relax.”
The skirt of her dress is so full that the valet has to help manoeuvre it out of the car and when he does it’s like everything slows down for a moment. Everything seems to go quiet before it breaks out into complete and utter chaos. Bright flashes and loud calls even before we make it to the chaperone.
“Come on, let’s show you off!” Turning to me with a laugh, Cassie fusses with my bowtie, even though I’m pretty certain it’s as straight as it can be. The entire time all I can do is look around, my hands hold her waist so tight that I don’t know how she’s not wincing.
“We can go now,” the chaperone says, bending over to straighten up the back of Cassie’s dress. “If you could just make sure that no one steps on the dress, it might not be a bad idea to pick it up once the photos are done.”
Everything is going exactly how Christopher predicted. None of the focus is on me, it’s all on Cassie. It’s such a relief that as we follow Christopher and Arabella down the red carpet, I feel myself relax a little. Not enough to zone out, but enough that I don’t feel like my chest is about to crumple.
A few guests smile our way; people I recognise as Fairfax Capital clients. They’re looking at me with a million questions, and although this is exactly what we wanted, I’m still dreading the money talk I’m about to be the centre of. Poaching business from my grandfather isn’t something I want to do but needs must.
“Smile,” Cassie whispers into my ear. Her lips graze my cheek and then she adds, “It’s the least you can do before you take their money.”
“I’ll be making it for them.”
“They’ll have to give it to you first.”
She’s smiling the entire time we’re having this back and forth. Stopping and posing, she avoids prying questions with a flutter of her lashes and show of her perfect teeth.
