Con Man: Complete Series Box Set: A Bad Boy Romance (47 page)

* * *

I
found
Paul in what looked like the kitchen of a first class restaurant. He was chatting with a cute redhead, but when they saw me, it was like they both jerked to attention.

“Miss Gabriella.” Paul smiled warmly. “Do you need something? Are you lost?”

I winced. “Maybe.” Then, because kitchens, at least, were something I understood, I eased farther inside. “Edward said he had to get some work done before we left and I…” I shrugged. “I wanted to look around.”

They stood by while I wandered the kitchen and then Paul came to my side. “Why don’t I show you around, Miss Gabriella?”

Feeling more and more like an intruder, I nodded. The redhead looked nervous and I tried to give her a friendly smile, but she wouldn’t look at me.

As we left the kitchen, she busied herself at the counter. Once the door swung shut behind us, I blew out a breath. “Did I mess up?”

“Of course not.” Paul gave me a polite smile.

He’d say that even if I’d broken every dish in the place.

“You’ve worked for Edward a long time, haven’t you?”

“I have.” He glanced down a hall and then at me. “Do you enjoy gardens? There’s a greenhouse with lovely flowers. They bloom all year.”

“Sure.” Anything was fine as long as I wasn’t thinking—or lost. “Do you like your job?”

“Very much.” There was no doubting his sincerity.

“So how long have you worked for Edward?” I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to ask him before.

“I’ve been with his family for twelve years now.”

“What are they like?” I asked.

Paul smiled, but it was tight-lipped and he said nothing. Apparently that was a line I couldn’t cross.

“Please.” I spread out of my hands to encompass everybody in the house—the servants who were mostly invisible, the redhead
I
had somehow made nervous, Edward, Paul. “None of ya’ll have any idea how nervous I’m getting over the idea of meeting his parents.” I groaned. “And look there. My Tennessee is showing.”

The crack made Paul chuckle and he sighed. After a moment, he relented. “They can be very stiff, very snobbish. They can be very set in their ways, but you must understand, they do love him. Edward’s mother would do anything for him. She wants what’s best for him.”

“And his father?”

Paul shook his head, like he’d said too much, but I didn’t give up.

“What about his siblings? Edward said everyone would be there today.” I stopped in the middle of the path and looked around, realizing we were in the middle of the greenhouse. I hadn’t even noticed. The heat started to sink into my bones and I felt lightheaded, although it wasn’t from the temperature. “I think I’m going to faint.”

Taking pity on me, he guided me over to a curved, wide bench. “His brothers are different; a little, ah, freer. They don’t have the same responsibilities as Edward. He’s the eldest son and he has a specific role to play in his family. He’s a good man, Miss. Gabriella.”

I agreed with that. “He’s the best man I’ve ever met.”

As if that was his cue, the doors to the greenhouse swung open and Edward came striding in. “I was hoping you would think to show her the greenhouse. I swung by the kitchen looking for you, Gabriella. Hayley said Paul was giving you a tour.”

I smiled at him, determined not to let him see my nerves.

Cut straight from a high-priced catalog in perfectly pressed khakis, a white polo shirt, and a blue sports coat, he came toward me, so elegant and perfect…and mine. Paul quietly excused himself and I rose to meet Edward. I smoothed a hand down my linen dress.

“You look lovely,” Edward said, catching my hand and lifting it to his lips.

“Do I?” I glanced down at my dress. “The color…does it clash with my hair?”

He bent his head and kissed me. “You’re lovely,” he reiterated. He slid his hands up and down my arms. “You’re tense. What’s wrong?”

“I’m terrified.” Slowly, I lifted my eyes to his and shrugged. “Your family…I mean, you’ve said you’ve had a couple of rough relationships. What if they think I’m just some gold digger and they try to scare me away?”

“What if they do?” he countered. “Will you let them?”

I looked up at him and his eyes searched my face. He was honestly concerned and that chased away some of my own fear. I kissed his cheek and then scrubbed off the lipstick smudge.

“No,” I said firmly. “But what if my accent slips or I get mad and call them snobs?”

“Then we’ll laugh and they’ll get over it.”

* * *

A
s Paul drove
, Edward kept me distracted with clever comments about people he’d met at various events at the club. I mentioned some of the plaids I’d seen men wearing on golf tournaments on TV which brought up a whole new conversation.

I ended up laughing away some of the tension, but as we pulled up to the security gate, an offhand comment he made brought up a whole new set of concerns.

“I’ll have you added to my membership,” he said, catching my hand and squeezing it. “I rarely come here, but you might enjoy it. Once you’re my wife, you might find yourself with more free time on your hands.”

Free time…
?

I went to ask him what that meant, but the gates opened up and he nodded ahead. “It’s time, love.”

Free time
.

Time
.

Shit. We hadn’t talked about what things would be like when we were married. We hadn’t discussed my writing, my job. Did he want me to quit the job I hated? Yeah, he could support me, but I didn’t want to become one of those women who lived off of her husband. And what about kids? Did he want them?

Did
I
?

All of those questions and more were on the tip of my tongue.

But the car stopped.

A moment later, Paul was opening the door for us.

Time was up.

M
outh dry
, pulse racing, I took Edward’s arm and he steered me through the formal dining room and out onto a sun-drenched patio that overlooked a carefully pruned garden.

“A mimosa and a screwdriver, light on the orange juice,” he told a passing waiter. He looked down at me, “Is that all right?”

I shrugged, not trusting myself to speak. What I really wanted though was whiskey. A double.

I felt like I had a million eyes staring at me and if an alarm had started blaring
INTRUDER ALERT, INTRUDER ALERT,
I wouldn’t have been surprised.

Were people staring?

Was it that
obvious I didn’t belong?

“Are you okay?” Edward’s voice low, so low I barely heard him.

I nodded. Off to the corner, a group of women, probably in their fifties or so, glanced our way. One of them eyed me, from the top of my head down to my shoes. Her nostrils flared as she sniffed and I felt the red rush to my cheeks.

Men were gathered in a group close by.

I didn’t see any couples together. Everybody was grouped together by gender. And Edward thought I’d hang out here? Who would I talk to? The people bringing out the drinks? I’d certainly feel a lot more comfortable with them.

“Is that what we’ll be like?” I asked suddenly. I gestured towards the groups. “Doing our own thing, you discussing business with the men while I’m off with the women talking about parties and raising the kids?”

His mouth twitched in amusement. “I hope not. I don’t want separate but connected lives. I want our
life, Gabriella.” He leaned in, brushed a kiss over my cheek. “You can have a career or do as my mother did, get involved in charities...or raise the kids.” He gave me a mischievous smile. “You decide. One thing though. I’m not changing my name to Baine. But if you don’t want to change yours, that’s fine too.”

While I was still nervous, I did feel a measure of relief at his words. Now I just had to keep myself distracted until it was time to meet the future in-laws.

“That reminds me, I’m about to find out your family name. Does that mean you’re going to turn into a pumpkin? Or is it more of a Rumpelstiltskin thing where you’ll have to grant me a wish?”

Edward laughed and I felt myself relax even more. I could do this as long as he was with me.

“I’ll grant you a wish for every day that you’re mine,” he said.

“Well, my first wish is for one of those heavenly croissants. I’m starving.”

I watched a basket of the buttery pastries bob by on a waiter’s tray, but before I could snag one, the hostess came by.

“Mr. Edward? Your party is here.”

We walked arm in arm into the formal dining room. In the doorway, we paused a moment and I had that split second to try and guess who Edward’s parents were.

A half dozen couples could have been contenders. Several tall, distinguished men, several attractive women with brown hair. But nobody stuck out and then time was up, because Edward was already guiding me to a table occupied by a handsome man who appeared to be in his fifties, still robust and powerful looking. The woman was blonde and statuesque. The moment she looked up, I could see where Edward had gotten his ice blue eyes.

She stood, eyes only for her son. “Edward, darling, it’s been too long.”

Edward kissed her cheek and then nodded at the man I assumed was his father even though they didn’t look anything alike. “Mother, this is Gabriella. Gabriella, this is my mother, Claire.”

Claire shook my hand lightly and I could tell she thought about reaching for a napkin when I let go.

“And now I see what’s been keeping you away.” Her expression was tight.

Edward pulled out her chair and waited until she sat down to kiss her on the cheek again. She patted his cheek and then waved me to the chair next to her. I sat down without assistance and was glad to catch Edward’s wink as he circled the table to sit next to me.

“What a lovely necklace, Claire. May I call you Claire?” I asked.

Claire gave a faint smile and flagged down a waiter without answering my question. “We’ll need one more place setting, please. The three of you are always busy, but at least one of your brothers is able to join us, I hear.”

“I know. He texted me earlier. The more the merrier.” Edward smiled. “It’ll be nice for her to meet more of the family.”

“So, Gabriella, what do you do for a living?” Mr. Rumpelstiltskin or whatever their last name was gave me a pleasant smile.

“I’m an assistant for a writer for a television show, but I’m hoping to write my own someday.” I braced myself for the usual onslaught of comments that followed a pronouncement of a career in the arts.

“So you’re hoping to use Edward’s name to further your own career...?”

I interrupted before Edward was forced to say something to his mother that would make her hate me even more. “Actually, Claire, Edward hasn’t told me much about your family, only that he’s involved in the family business. My interest in him is purely him.”

“She makes it sound like we run a mom and pop shop.” Claire sipped a glass of champagne then dabbed her lips with a white linen napkin.

“Did he take over for you?” I asked the much more friendly face across from me.

“Me?” He looked surprised. “No. I’m actually Edward’s stepfather. You can call me Albert.”

“I’m so sorry! How rude of me,” Edward said. “Albert and my mother have been married for eons. I can’t believe I didn’t introduce you two.”

Albert smiled and waved a hand, like he was used to being forgotten. “Why don’t you tell us about the marriage proposal before you tire of telling the story?”

Edward pulled our joined hands up above the white tablecloth and held up my engagement ring. He squeezed my fingers. “Starlight, champagne, a fountain in the rose garden. I must have done it right because this beauty said ‘yes’.”

Claire shot my emerald cut diamond solitaire a begrudgingly impressed look.

“How did you and Albert meet?” I asked, determined to win her over.

“Albert was the headmaster at the boarding school I wished for my boys to attend. They were still young, of course, but one must be diligent if one wants only the best for their children.” She looked over at her husband. “Of course, once we decided to get married, he had to resign so as to avoid the appearance of favoritism.”

I decided to go with a question that had nothing to do with how odd I thought it was that her husband had to give up his job rather than just sending the kids to another school. “You went to an all-boys boarding school?” I asked Edward.

“One of the finest in the country,” Claire said it like there was no other option. “Where were you educated?”

Her attitude sucked. Arching a brow, I smiled coolly. “Tennessee public schools.”

Her gaze slid to Edward’s. He stared back, his face impassive. After a moment, she smiled a little and began to discuss work.

It took less than a minute to figure out that they were involved in the fashion industry. It took less than five to realize that they just might have a fair hand in controlling
it. My heart started to race and under the table, I twisted my hands over and over around the heavy material of the napkin I’d put in my lap.

Kendra had told me about the executives who could make or break entire collections and countless careers with one phone call. That probably explained why she thought she recognized him, but couldn’t put a name to a face.

The sommelier brought champagne to the table. “Here you are, Mrs. Bouvier.”

My jaw dropped. “I’m sorry, did you just say Bouvier?”

Bouvier…shit. Edward…Bouvier…
my heart was about to jump out of my chest. Lifting my gaze, I stared at him. “I…you…” Shaking my head, I looked around and then said, “Are y’all seriously the
Bouviers
?”

I heard the accent thickening my voice, but I couldn’t even think about that now.

From the corner of my eye, I could see his mother watching me, could see the sommelier fighting not to do the same.

Edward laughed, a sheepish smile on his face. “I told you my last name was quite recognizable.”

“You didn’t tell her your last name?” Claire raised an eyebrow.

Edward’s expression stiffened. “I thought you’d be pleased, Mother. We dated, fell in love, and she agreed to marry me all without knowing I’m a Bouvier.”

“I don’t believe this,” I said, pressing my hand to my forehead.

“Gabriella, are you well?”

The soft question came from the man across from me.

Weakly, I looked at him. “I’m fine, Mr. Bouvier—”

“Albert is
not
Mr. Bouvier. His name is Albert McCreary,” Claire said, her voice pure ice. She stared at me, clearly offended. “When I remarried, I kept my first married name because of the company and my sons.”

I barely heard the final words she said, though…

Coincidence?

Had to be.

McCreary…

No way.

“Hey there, big brother. I hear I’m getting a sister-in-law...”

The familiar voice trailed off as I lifted my head.

He moved around the table, all sexy grace and cadet blue eyes. My future brother-in-law. Flynn McCreary.

Shit.