“Actually, I think we can probably order.” Eliza gestured to the hovering server. “We can chat once the food has arrived. I’m sure everyone’s hungry.”
Jocelyn shot her a look that was torn in two—part relief, part something else. Almost as if she had been hankering for an argument. But the server arrived then, the Tate family ordered, and topical conversation ensued, pushing aside all threat of a full-on dinner disaster.
Eliza waited until halfway through dinner to engage the next steps of her plan. It was a delicate thing, and she couldn’t rush it. Before she’d picked up the phone and dialed Jocelyn Tate to invite her to dinner, she’d thought long and hard about whether she wanted to do this. Whether she could do this.
Once her decision was made, Eliza set to finessing the details with the same level of painstaking accuracy that she put into her work. Eventually, the plan rolled into motion when Todd spotted one of his friends at a nearby table.
“It’s Nathan!” Todd pushed his chair back and heaved himself to his feet. “I haven’t seen the bastard in over a year. Traveling with his wife on a big European tour if I remember right. You ladies mind if I catch up with him? Don’t wait on me to finish eating.”
Todd didn’t pretend to wait for a response before tossing his napkin on the chair and pushing his near-empty plate toward the center of the table. Jocelyn had barely touched her Niçoise salad while Eliza had made a valiant effort to nibble at the edges of her ahi tuna, but neither of the expensive platters was even halfway finished. Eliza’s stomach churned, and she, too, pushed her plate away.
“Mrs. Tate,” she began, then stopped when her mother-in-law put down her fork and stared intently back at Eliza.
“Yes?” Jocelyn pressed. “What do you need?”
“It’s not…” Eliza swallowed, glancing at the napkin in her lap.
“It’s not like that.”
Jocelyn lifted one petite shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not silly enough to believe you invited us here because you enjoy our company.”
Eliza’s lips parted in surprise. This was not going the way she’d intended. Usually, Eliza was the overprepared one in a room. She excelled at planning; she was known for obtaining fantastic results during work negotiations, even when the tables were turned against her. That wasn’t the case this evening.
“That’s not true,” Eliza said weakly. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy your company.”
“It’s quite all right,” Jocelyn said. “I believe you enjoy my company fine enough, but my husband can be quite intolerable.”
Eliza’s surprise morphed into shock.
Jocelyn sighed, then peered over her shoulder. Todd and Nathan had moved onto the ruddy, red-faced, too-loud-laughter portion of their discussion. “You’d better speak quickly if you’d like to discuss business before my husband returns.”
Eliza tipped her chin upward and fought back the pink blush of embarrassment. “I did come here to ask a favor of you and your husband. And I’m afraid it’s quite a large favor.”
“I didn’t imagine you’d call for something trivial.”
“It’s money. I’ve recently quit my job, and I’m branching out to start my own public relations company. I need more funding than what Roman and I have in our bank account.”
A shrewd look twinkled in Jocelyn’s eye, as if she knew something wasn’t right. “Does Roman know you’re meeting with us?”
“Mrs. Tate, I really don’t want to bring my marriage into my business. As I stated earlier, the reason I asked you here on my own terms is because I don’t want Roman’s name dragged into our arrangement.”
“It might be your business, but he’s also your husband.”
“And it’s my personal promise that I’ll pay you back,” Eliza insisted. “I always make good on my promises.”
“Yes, your vows mean something to you.” Jocelyn again frowned at her lap. “I only wish I could say the same about my son.”
“You warned me,” Eliza blurted.
Even before the words came out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back. There’d been an unspoken agreement between Eliza and Jocelyn that they’d never speak of the moment in question ever again. The moment on her wedding day when, dressed in a beautiful white gown—paid for by the Tates, of course—Eliza had been warned by Jocelyn Tate that she was making a mistake.
The wedding had been in Vegas, much to the Tate family’s dismay. For their only son, they’d envisioned a grand country-club wedding. A big to-do with a guest list ten pages long and a bill to match. Eliza’s family had wanted the same for their daughter—or they would have if Eliza had taken the time to tell them she was getting married.
Everyone had assumed the whirlwind romance was due to an unfortunate accidental pregnancy. That Roman had knocked up Eliza, forcing the two to marry in a shotgun ceremony. However, when no baby came nine months later, a year later, ten years later, people stopped speculating and chalked up the union to a bizarre blip of fate.
Despite the clandestine nature of their elopement, Roman had decided to invite his parents along, never expecting they’d come. However, they had arrived toting a beautiful wedding dress in hand, a bouquet, a cake. Eliza had felt like a real bride. Until Jocelyn Tate approached as the wedding bells began to chime in the sticky-hot chapel and handed over a set of keys without speaking.
Eliza looked at them, confused.
“It’s not too late,” Mrs. Tate said. “I’ve only met you a handful of times, but I feel as if I know you. I know you’ll be faithful. You’re a hard worker. You will provide the lifestyle that Roman is looking for. That’s probably why he’s asked you to marry him.”
“That’s not true,” Eliza said. “I don’t have any money to my name. He’s marrying me because he loves me.”
“You might not be wealthy yet, but you recently landed a big job. What’s your starting salary?” Mrs. Tate formed the question as if she wasn’t really looking for an answer. “We both know you’ll do quite well. So does Roman.”
“But—”
“Do you think the timing is coincidental?” Mrs. Tate licked her lower lip, stalling. “Roman asked you to marry him days after you secured one of the most coveted jobs in the industry. There was an article on you in the Hollywood News—one of the women under thirty to watch.”
The cold, hard metal keys landed in Eliza’s hand. She could only stare at them.
“But I also know my son,” Jocelyn continued. “I know my husband, and in a way, Roman and Todd aren’t so very different.”
Eliza had been bewildered by her comment. Todd was a close-minded, rich, often cruel man. Her husband-to-be had an artist’s soul and a soft heart. He was marrying an immigrant, he loved the theater, he read poetry by night and played football by day. Roman was beautifully complex and wonderful and cared nothing for worldly things or money or fame. Eliza told Jocelyn all of it, that she was wrong.
“Things change,” Jocelyn said with a weak smile. “You deserve to be happy.”
“I am happy,” Eliza whispered. “I love Roman. More than anything.”