Evan grinned and put his drink down, that massive build formal in a dark suit. Long strides ate up the distance between us as he leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “You look gorgeous.”
Despite my nerves, I flushed and smiled back at him.
“Thanks, you picked it out,” I whispered, indicating the floral silk dress with a high neckline and full sleeves. Perfect for meeting your fiancé’s parents.
My man steered me around, one arm planted securely around my waist.
“Mom, Dad,” he called casually. “This is Maggie, my new fiancée. The girl I’ve been telling you about.”
I tried not to stare, but couldn’t help it. Because these folks were so different from people from my everyday life.
Mr. Lincoln actually looked like a bulldog, short and squat, with no neck. His turtleneck and dark pants only made the impression worse. Bowzer in man form, for real, with the same scowl on his face.
His mom, though, was a swan, long, lean and lovely, very elegant. She wore a white, slim-fitting dress over her thin body and high heels. This lady did not give a damn that it was after Labor Day.
Standing there with Evan in the giant house with everything shiny and gold-colored, they all looked very rich.
Different from me.
Light years away from my dad who grew up a lobsterman, hands rough and chapped, face red from sea wind.
So different from my stepmom, who was the wife of a lobsterman, but fancied herself hoity-toity Boston uppercrust society. It was awful the way she put on airs, even wearing white gloves just for the hell of it. Plus, my stepsisters were just as bad. Mary and Alice actually renamed themselves Madison and Tinsley, can you believe it? They thought the new names fit better with where they wanted to go, which was up.
But none of that seemed funny at the moment. Because now I was boring Margaret, humble Maggie at my best, someone who didn’t fit in. I flushed, heart beating fast. I didn’t belong here, that much was clear.
“Thank you, Butler,” Evelyn said, dismissing the elderly man.
Was this guy’s name actually “Butler” too?
Evan’s mother glided across the room with one hand held out, limp and pale.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie. I’m Evelyn Lincoln and that man over there is my husband, Henry.” Her smile was cool but actually had a touch of welcome in it. “We haven’t heard too much about you, but we’re very happy to have you here at last.”
She looked into my eyes like she was searching for something, then her smile got bigger and became more real. She pulled me in for a quick hug.
“Welcome, dear.”
I blushed and hugged her back. Over her shoulder, Evan grinned before winking. His support made my heart flip over, nerves growing calm. With this man I could do anything, scale giant mountains, even fly over treetops with him by my side.
So I turned to the older woman, a warm smile on my face.
“Thank you for the welcome, Mrs. Lincoln.”
“Please call me Evelyn, sweetheart. Mrs. Lincoln is too formal.”
“And call me Henry.” Evan’s father came up behind us, his voice gruff. The older man took my hand in a rough handshake, one that pumped my wrist and elbow. Ouch. He was just like Bowzer with a giant bone.
Evelyn stared meaningfully at her husband.
“Henry stop that. This isn’t one of your construction guys, this is a lovely lady. Come sit with me, Maggie,” she gestured to the seat beside her. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Tell us a little about yourself.”
But then her son interceded.
“Ma, I think dinner’s ready. Cook will be upset if we don’t eat while it’s piping hot.”
His mother nodded, standing gracefully.
“True, true,” she hummed. And then turning to me, she said in a conspiratorial whisper, “We’ve had Cook with us since Evan was five, and he’s always so good to the help. My son was such a rambunctious little boy, but he’s got a heart of gold, treating everyone here like they’re family.”
I nodded, heart going pitter patter. That meant a lot because it spoke well of the man I adored. He was good to everyone, even those who were on his payroll. But suddenly, my stomach seized because these were all dreams. I was getting carried away. My name was on that payroll as well, nothing more than another employee.
Oh god.
I forgot.
This was all a farce, and we were doing it for business reasons.
After the clock struck twelve, I’d be left with my pumpkin again. There’d be no prince, no castle, no doting in-laws.
Inside, my heart shriveled, but my lips smiled on their own.
Duty calls. A job is still a job.
“Perfect,” was my inane word. “Can’t wait for dinner.”
Mrs. Lincoln spoke again.
“Evan gave Cook a treat when he told her you were coming over. Usually, she just makes meals for the two of us, or four if Evan comes over with his sister. So Cook went overboard, making a little of everything.”