“I don’t think so.”
“You didn’t need to go to all this effort, you know.” She’d spent most of the day cooking while I worked. I’d offered to help but I got the impression cooking was how she worked things out. That and eating chocolate-covered raisins. “We could have called caterers. Maybe you’re a bit more like Lauren than you think.”
“Believe me, if Lauren was hosting this dinner party, there would be an ice sculpture somewhere and we’d be having at least five courses. I’ve made soup and roast chicken. No one’s going to be impressed.”
“I will be. My friends won’t care what we serve, and their wives and girlfriends will just want to snoop around my house. They always complain they don’t ever get invited over.”
She nodded and tucked her hair behind her ear, betraying her nerves. “At least we don’t have to pretend.”
“Right. It’s not like anyone is going to ask us about wedding planning.” Last Saturday at her parents’ place was the first time I saw Parker really wound up. Her mother and Lauren had acted like it was their wedding. I didn’t ask why they had to be involved at all, since it was clear they had more than an equal say in the wedding. Didn’t make much sense to me, but I stayed quiet because it wasn’t my battle to fight.
She groaned. “Speaking of, Lauren called me today to ask me if we wanted to do a tasting of the canapes being served at the party.”
“Okay,” I said, treading carefully. “You want me to come with you?”
She shook her head and peeled off her apron. “No. I told her to send us the menu. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to just pick whatever we need without tasting. Does anyone really care what canapes taste like? It’s one mouthful.”
She’d read my mind.
“If you don’t care what they taste like, you could tell her you value her input and ask her to pick for you.”
“Which she will do anyway unless I’m prepared to throw down.”
“Exactly. Save your energy for your charity and compliment her at the same time.”
“I’d like to, but I’ve not been in the office for a week now. Can I go back in on Monday?”
Lucky for me, before I could answer, there was a knock at the door. “Our guests,” I said.
“Tristan. Can I go back in on Monday?” She followed me down the hallway.
The fact was I’d not discovered anything more about the fraudulent withdrawals from the charity account or the potential break-in at her flat. I’d broken into the local street CCTV and next door’s cameras, and nothing looked odd or out of place. Either there was nothing to worry about because the payments and the incident at her flat were coincidences, or the fact that everything looked like a series of coincidences was cause for serious concern. Someone could be going to great lengths to maintain Parker’s illusion of safety while behind the scenes, they chipped away at the charity she’d worked so hard to support. Either way, I couldn’t keep her a prisoner at my place any longer.
“Tristan,” she said as I reached the door. “Don’t ignore me. I want an answer.”
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, you can go back to work.”
She grinned up at me and lust crawled up my spine. That smile. That red lipstick. That beautiful mouth.
“Thank you. You see? Our first engaged-couple spat and we came out the other end. Oh hang on. Shoes. They’re going to think we’re the most ridiculously ill-matched couple.” She slipped into higher-than-high, shiny black shoes and finally gave me the nod to open the front door.
“Hello!” Hollie said. “You must be Tristan’s fiancée.” She completely ignored me, pushed past me, and flung her arms around Parker. “I’m Hollie. And you’re a shortie, too. These men are so tall. It’s insane. I have a permanent crick in my neck.”
“We’re all the same height lying down,” Dexter called from behind Hollie. “Let her go. She’s British and not used to all your American effervescence.”
Hollie released Parker and Dexter leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I’m Dexter.”
“Hi, both of you. Oh, and Dexter, you’re the man to thank for the ring. It’s going to be hard to give up when the time comes.”
“If,” Hollie said.
“I’m sorry? I didn’t hear you,” Parker said.
Did Hollie just say “if” as in if the time comes? Had Dexter not told her our arrangement?
“Oh nothing. I didn’t get to see the ring.” Hollie glanced down at Parker’s hand. “You don’t have it on?”
I began to usher everyone through to the kitchen. “Everyone here tonight knows the deal. Parker doesn’t need to wear the ring. She’s among friends.”
“Of course she is,” Hollie replied. “But why wouldn’t she wear the ring? It’s gorgeous. And she’s your fiancée.”