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"You told her she shouldn’t marry Liam?" My mother’s brow arches.
"Ah—" Isla coughs. "Lila met me the day before yesterday and asked me if it was a good idea for her to marry Liam. I… Well, I couldn’t lie to her. She’s my friend, after all. So, I told her she should follow her instincts."
"And she walked out on Liam."
"It would seem that way, yes." Isla wriggles around in her seat. "I honestly didn’t think she’d walk out on the wedding. Not when it was so close. I really feel guilty about it."
"Seems one of you had the guts to face the truth, at least." My mother looks at Isla with something like admiration on her features. "It takes guts to do what you did, young lady. I take it, you knew it was possible you’d be left without having a wedding to arrange at all?"
Isla hunches her shoulders. "I didn’t think it would be my own wedding I’d have to organize instead."
"Is he compensating you well for your role in this charade?"
"Mother," I say in a warning voice.
She waves a hand in the air. "Don’t interfere when it’s us women speaking."
Fuck!That’s all I need, my mother taking a keen interest in a cause means she never leaves anything halfway, and right now that project is my wedding. I’d set out to come up with a scenario that would convince the world. I didn’t think I would be the one in the hot seat instead.
"You could, of course, use me to spin this," my mother murmurs.
"Eh?" I stare at her blankly.
Isla leans forward in her chair. "That’s an interesting thought. Who better than the mother of the bridegroom to give her blessing for this event?"
"Even better when the mother of the bride is also by her side," my ma retorts.
Isla is already shaking her head. "Oh, no, no, no, that is a bad idea. I can’t tell my mother I’m involved in a fake marriage scenario, especially if… I mean,whenI get pregnant later—"
"Which I assume is going to be by artificial means?" my mother interjects.
Once more, I gape at her. "You’re taking this rather well." I scowl.
"I might be of a different generation, but I’ve kept up with the times." My mother smiles serenely. "I understand how these things work nowadays. And if this is the only way I’m going to get a grandchild from you, then I can’t complain, can I?"
"Uh, I don’t think my mother is going to take this all that well." Isla reaches for her glass of wine and drains half of it. "I’d rather not tell her the truth, to be honest."
My mother tilts her head. "So, you’d let your mother believe that—"
"Yeah, that we’re in love and if…whenI get pregnant, that it’s a child conceived in the natural way, yeah," —she places the glass of wine on the table, then leans forward again— "Mrs. Kincaid."
"Call me Rosie, please."
"Rosie, it’s awfully sporting of you to understand our situation, but I can assure you, my mother would not understand why we’re doing this. All she’ll remember is that the relationship is fake, and she won't be able to keep it a secret. It won’t be long before my entire extended family is aware of it, too, and from there... It’s a short jump to the media."
My mother frowns. "I understand what you’re saying, but I still think we need to have your mother involved for when we speak to the press."
"Oh, god." Isla presses the heels of her hands to her eyes and mutters, "This can’t be happening to me. Please, someone, pinch me."
I reach over and pinch her arm, and she yelps, then lowers her hands to the table. "That hurt."
"Good," I growl.Now she knows how I feel…
"What are we going to do?" Her mouth droops. Her eyes wear a pleading look. Damn, she’s adorable when she’s all frustrated. "Liam?" she murmurs.
I reach over and place my hand over hers. She stiffens but doesn’t pull her palm away.
"I think I know a way out." I turn to my mother. "But we need your help."
