When I tried to pass him, Grant wrapped his arms around me in a hug. “Your arms are freezing.” He gave me a smile. “And your little cute nose is red.”
I couldn’t quite meet his gaze, not wanting to explain I’d lost my job. He would tell me it was no big deal. I’d find another one. Or worse, he’d offer to help me out financially, which would make me feel like a failure.
So I wasn’t going to tell him.
Which made me no better than him not telling me about the theater.
We both wanted to control the relationship.
There was a pit in my stomach.
“Let’s go,” he said, releasing me. “They’re doing a toast to the illustrious Tiffany and Grant Caldwell. I need you to be there.”
“Of course.” I stepped inside.
Grant touched my elbow. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Everything. “Nothing.” I gave him a smile. “I just got overheated.”
How was that for acting skills?
This was not the time or the place to dissect our relationship.
He nodded. We reentered the party and weaved through guests to the massive stone fireplace. Grant’s parents were in front of it. His mother looked happy, for once. She was actually smiling. His father did not have a drink in his hand. They were staring at each other, and they did actually look like they were in love. Huh. Fascinating. I guess that was a lesson for me in “mind your own business and don’t judge other people.”
“I want to raise my glass to my life partner, the incomparable Tiffany Caldwell.” Grant’s father raised his empty hand, and then made a face. “Why the hell don’t I have a drink?”
The room laughed. Tiffany tittered.
Someone scrambled to provide Grant the second with a glass of champagne. “To Tiffany,” he said and lifted it.
“To Tiffany,” voices repeated and glasses rose.
It was fascinating. As far as I had witnessed and heard, Tiffany was a miserable human being, but here were a hundred people toasting to her. The irony of it was not lost on me.
We all clapped.
Grant dropped my hand and moved to the front of the room. “I’d like to wish my parents a happy anniversary. Thank you for paving the way for me to see how a marriage can and should last.”
I almost snorted. I wasn’t the only one with acting skills.
His parents looked like they saw nothing other than truth in that statement.
“In the spirit of the day I’d like to announce my own intentions to my amazing and talented girlfriend, Leah.” His eyes found mine. “Leah, can you come up here, please?”
The pit in my gut grew. Why the hell was he doing this? It would only piss his mother off and make everyone in his circle believe we actually were engaged. Which we weren’t.
But there was a murmur of surprised voices, shifting feet, and curious stares being directed at me and I didn’t have a choice. I walked across the room, reminding myself this was a stage. It was an act. A performance. Nothing more.
Play the part. Smile, laugh, repeat.
He held his hand out to me and I took it, using all of my training to prevent a glare from stealing over my features. I didn’t want to be put on the spot like this, not after everything we’d shared. Not after we’d blurred every line you could possibly blur.
I could see Tiffany’s smile slipping. She was pissed she was no longer the center of attention. Grant was going to regret doing this, that was clear.
But that thought evaporated when Grant went down on one knee.
What the hell?