The Favor

“What if it were a different color and the bridal tone was dialed down?” Chris suggested. “There are so many alternatives to traditional wedding gowns nowadays.”

I pursed my lips. “Yeah, I’d be happier with something like that.”

“Great. We could probably find a designer to custom-make your dress in such a short space of time, but there would be a lot of coming and going for various consultations and fittings. That might not be ideal for you, since your work schedule is busy. You might find it less stressful to select and purchase one from a bridal boutique and then have it altered to fit you—there’s a particular one we deal with regularly; our clients all loved it.”

I shrugged. “Works for me.”

“Excellent.” He smiled. “You know, there are so many reasons I love fall celebrations. You have all the pretty foliage, and you can often center your décor around the season—something I think would fit the reception well if it takes place in the botanical garden. I can jazz up the bouquet and boutonniere you wore at your ceremony and make it fit with the theme of the reception.”

“Um … will I need a bouquet?” I didn’t really want to admit that I’d kept it. “I mean, I’m not having another ceremony.”

“But it’ll add to the overall wedding-y feel of the party, and it will compliment your gown on the photos.”

Hell. I swallowed. “Um, okay,” I all but croaked, ignoring the feel of Dane’s eyes on me. “Sadly, Dane lost his boutonniere,” I added, saving him from having to explain that he trashed it.

“I thought I did,” Dane cut in. “But I found it buried at the bottom of my suitcase.”

I looked at him, my lips parted. “You … found it?”

Dane’s brow creased. “I didn’t tell you? I could have sworn I did.” He turned to Chris. “Try not to give it too much ‘jazz,’ I like it the way it is.”

Chris gave him a solemn nod, his eyes smiling. “I’ll just give it a little something that makes it match with the bouquet and the theme of the reception. We need to pick an autumn color palette and go from there, I think.”

Considering the marriage was a sham, I’d figured Dane would leave the plans for the party to me and just throw in an idea here and there. I should have known better. I should have remembered he was a man with very definite opinions. In the end, he tossed out more suggestions than I did.

Once the meeting was over, we shook hands with the planners and showed them to the door. Chris winked and said, “Trust us, we will go above and beyond to ensure this all goes seamlessly. You won’t need to worry about a thing.”

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.