Home > The Favor(43)

The Favor(43)
Author: Suzanne Wright

For the price Dane was paying them, the guy better be right.

Alone again, Dane and I dropped the happy couple act.

I turned to him and tilted my head. “Do I need to find a replacement boutonniere that’s identical to the one you wore at the ceremony?”

“No.” With that, he turned and headed toward the staircase, no doubt intending to go to his office.

“No?” I echoed.

“It’s not necessary. I have the boutonniere upstairs.”

I blinked. “You kept it? Why?”

Pausing on the staircase, he glanced at me over his shoulder and shrugged. “I felt like it.”

Such a Dane-like answer.

“Why did you keep the bouquet?”

I mimicked his aloof shrug. “I felt like it.”

His dark inscrutable gaze searched mine for a moment. “Hmm.”

I frowned after him as he climbed the stairs and then disappeared out of view. He’d kept it. He’d kept the boutonniere. If he was anyone else, I might have read something into that. But in this case, I knew better. Because even if the ceremony had meant something to him, he wasn’t a sentimental person. He didn’t have keepsakes. He did, however, do things simply because he felt like it at the time. Yes, that was very, very Dane.

I sighed and rolled back my shoulders. I now needed to occupy myself for a while. Deciding to switch things up a little, I didn’t go to the library. I made some use of the indoor pool. Yeah, I was living life on the edge.

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

 

Settled on one of the comfy leather seats in the media room, I used the remote control to flick through the movie options on the large TV screen. Over the past three weeks, I’d tried to make use of every room in the oversized house—even the gym, though I had a genuine allergy to exercise.

I grew to love my new temporary home. I really did. But there was something about being mostly alone in such a massive building that sometimes made the quiet feel eerie rather than peaceful.

I wasn’t a person who craved company. I’d lived on my own since I was eighteen. Now I lived with a man who had such an overwhelmingly forceful personality that he seemed to suck the air out of whatever room he walked into. And yet, I’d never felt more alone. But alone was okay. Until you started to feel lonely. Something which crept up on me now and then, just as it had today. So, honestly, I was in a bit of a funk.

I would have visited one of my friends or relatives, but my doing so had apparently become too much of a habit, because they’d started to question if everything was “okay at home,” especially since Dane never accompanied me on the visits.

They bought my assurances that all was fine. Well, Ashley wasn’t so easily convinced, but she didn’t push me on it. Still, I figured I had to do a better job of playing the part of happy wife, and that meant not leaving my husband at home alone all the time—even though he’d no doubt prefer that.

Not once in the times I went to visit my foster parents did Heather turn up. I wasn’t sure if she was simply busy seducing her new boyfriend into leaving his wife or if she was actively avoiding me. If it was the latter, it wouldn’t be that she worried I’d confront her over the email—she loved to be confronted—it would be that she thought I was gloating over my new financial situation.

Heather seemed to view me as some sort of threat to her self-image. She was driven to have more than me; to have better. As she had money, designer clothes, and an expensive car, she seemed to feel that she’d outdone me. But now that I was married to Dane, she’d probably feel that I’d one-upped her. As she tended to judge me by her own standards, she’d also believe I wanted to rub it all in her face.

Well, I didn’t.

She was probably also annoyed that her sly little email hadn’t been important enough to warrant an instant response. She’d hate that more than anything. It made her feel insignificant when her efforts to get a reaction failed.

I doubted she’d miss the upcoming reception, though. She’d want the chance to cause a scene. She’d get her wish, since I couldn’t not invite her without offending her parents.

Chris and Miley had managed to secure the botanical garden as the party venue—they hadn’t wasted any time in getting started on the preparations. They’d even created a website that had everything on it for the guests—dates, venue details, maps, dress code, etc. I hadn’t known people did that sort of thing. But then, I hadn’t attended a lot of weddings.

Initially, I hadn’t been all that interested in the reception, but the planners had sucked me right in with their excitement and enthusiasm. Plus, I figured that there was a chance this might be the only wedding reception I ever had, so I might as well make it a good one. I wanted to one day marry and have kids, but lots of people wanted that future. They didn’t always get it.

Eager to see in person the venue we’d selected, Dane and I had ambled through the botanical garden and wandered around the hotel itself one Saturday afternoon. Both places were an utter delight, and I loved Chris’ “vision” of what he’d do to the garden for the reception.

The only time Dane and I really spent together outside of work was when we were coordinating with the planners over flowers, the food menu, and all that jazz—he never missed a meeting, to his credit. We’d also attended a brief tasting session with the caterer he’d chosen.

Chris and Miley also booked me in to see “a bridal couture queen.” I took Maggie, Melinda, Ashley, and Hanna along—they’d insisted on coming. The boutique offered a selection of truly breathtaking intricate gowns and, as Chris had promised, some beautiful alternatives to wedding dresses. All were designer, though, so they were also super expensive.

It hadn’t seemed right to spend so much money on a dress for a fake wedding reception, but I’d agreed to try on a few, since we’d gone all that way. When I’d modeled a particular one, the girls had started crying and declared “that’s the one!” I had to admit, I’d loved it. So I’d agreed. I’d also offered to reimburse Dane, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

Hanna had moaned when I vetoed having a post-wedding-bachelorette party, but I’d allowed her to talk me into having a simple girls’ night in nearer the date of the reception. As the date fell in late autumn, Chris had suggested adding décor such as pumpkins … which made me think of Halloween, and how I’d probably be spending it alone.

I loved Halloween. Loved driving past the houses in my neighborhood and seeing all the pumpkins, spider webs, and other aesthetics. Loved answering the door to trick-or-treaters and seeing all the creative costumes. Loved hanging up spooky decorations of my own, even if only to get into the Halloween-spirit.

Every year, Ashley and I would dress up for fun and have a scary-movie marathon while drinking punch and munching on junk food. We’d also hand out candy to trick-or-treaters and tease Tucker for jumping and flinching during the horror movies.

Dane was uninterested in most holidays, so he’d probably hole up in either his home office or the one at o-Verve. No trick-or-treaters would come all the way out here, so there’d be no costumes to admire. I had no decorations to hang, since mine were in storage and Dane was unlikely to have any of his own. It would probably just feel like any other day.

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