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Her stomach plummeted. She almost knocked her wine glass over. That explained the uncharacteristic request for a romantic dinner out. Nigel had even made reservations.
“What?” she asked, stunned. She suddenly became aware of the fact that the diners at the tables near them were all watching expectantly. Several had their phones up, recording.
Nigel tugged at the thigh of his pants and smoothly dropped to one knee. “Edwina, will you marry me?”
“Okay,” she said, because he was confident she’d say yes, everyone was staring at her, and this was what she wanted. “Yes. Of course.”
He turned and told everyone, “She said yes, of course.”
There was applause from the other diners.
Did he mean she’d said “of course” at the end of her yes, or that of course she’d said yes, he hadn’t expected anything different? She didn’t know. She also didn’t know why it mattered. Wouldn’t most men proposing to a woman assume her answer would be yes? Otherwise why would he ask?
Edwina fanned herself with her napkin. It was hot in the restaurant. It was an actual inferno. The heat rose in a swell from her midsection up her body, momentarily making her feel like she might faint. She frantically ripped off the blazer she was wearing. She hadn’t dressed appropriately. She’d come straight from work, because that’s what they always did.
He was holding a ring out to her. Not in a box, but twirling on the tip of his finger. “I have a confession to make.” He rose to his feet and slipped the ring on her finger. “The money was for the ring.”
“What money?” Why did she feel so damn numb? She was staring at a massive diamond on her finger and she felt completely and totally numb.
The last two months had been fine. They’d been status quo. Serviceable.
She and Nigel went to work, busted ass all day, occasionally went to dinner or out for drinks, and lived in separate apartments. She wondered if he even realized they hadn’t had sex since she’d been back from Beaver Bend. He hadn’t made any overtures in that direction and she hadn’t cared. She didn’t want to have sex with him.
Oh, God, what the hell was she doing? Heat started to crawl up her throat again. She reached for her water.
“The money from the business. I used it for the ring because I didn’t want to wait. Was it cruel of me to drop that line about us not being there yet with marriage? I’m sorry, luv, I just panicked when you asked me about the money.”
He had sat back down and was grinning at her. Damn it, he had such good teeth. It was a fantastic smile.
Yet right now it wasn’t doing anything to her. She should have a vag flutter at the very least when she saw that grin flashed at her with a fifty-thousand-dollar ring on her finger, but her inner thighs were flutterless. Plus, he’d basically stolen that money from their business and then had lied about it.
“Nigel,” she reprimanded. “That wasn’t cool. Seriously. That can’t happen again.” She meant both his intentional misdirection and taking the money.
“I know, I’m sorry. Forgive me.” He looked contrite for a split second, patting her hand. Then he changed the subject. “I was thinking Italy for the wedding. What do you think? Something at a vineyard, so both our families can be there. Doesn’t that sound sexy?” He lifted his eyebrows up and down.
“That sounds expensive. We can’t afford a wedding like that.”
“Haven’t you and George ever talked about a wedding budget?” he asked, clearly surprised.
She eyed him, completely caught off guard. “George isn’t going to pay for my wedding. Neither is my father, because he can’t afford it and he would try to and would bankrupt himself in the process. You and I have to pay for this wedding.”
“What?Why?”
The server appeared with a bottle of champagne. “Congratulations,” he said, putting two flutes on the table with a flourish.
“Thank you,” she said absently. “We have to pay because George is my stepfather and it’s not his responsibility. I didn’t meet George until I was thirteen but he’s been incredibly generous. He paid for my education, school trips, clothes, and he gave us the loan to start the business. I’m in my thirties now. Even if he offered to pay, I wouldn’t accept it. He’s done enough for me.”
“The money for the business… that’s really a loan? We have to pay it back?” He frowned.
She stared across the table at Nigel. “Of course it is. We’ve been making payments the whole time.”
“I just thought if we got married, he’d forgive the debt.”
The server popped the cork on the champagne. The loud pop made her jump.
“Is that why you want to get married?” It was. She knew it. She saw it with total clarity and felt a certainty deep in her gut. Did he even want to get married? He’d certainly never been in a rush. They didn’t even live together.
“What? Of course not! Jesus, Edwina. How could you say such a thing?”
