Great. Her mother's first cousin was a gossip hound. She lived in Missouri and one would swear she was part of the FBI for all the details she excavated about each of her relatives.
"You and Reese were spotted at a bridal shop, and I told her there was no way…" Her mother's words faded out.
Merina blinked, realizing she'd lifted her left hand—with a rock the size of the kitchen table on it—to smooth her hair.
This wasn't the way she wanted her parents to find out.
Jolie moved from behind the counter and took Merina's hand. A gasp sounded in her throat. Behind her, her father let out a sigh that sounded more like a grizzly bear that'd been punched in the nose.
"I wanted to tell you, but everything happened so fast." Which was not exactly a lie. Things were moving at lightning speed.
"I don't like it," he said.
"Well, it's not up to you." Merina spun on him and his face mottled red. She thought of his heart and softened her tone. "I'm sorry. I'm"—she waved her hand as she tried to come up with an excuse for her behavior but couldn't come up with anything but the truth—"drunk."
"Were you drunk when you said yes?" her father asked.
"Dad!"
"Sweetheart, why wouldn't you tell us how serious things were between the two of you?" Jolie asked.
"I couldn't!" That was the truth, anyway. "I was worried you wouldn't approve. Not that I need your approval, because we're getting married on Saturday whether you approve or not." Merina grasped the edge of the counter as the room swayed. She chugged down the rest of her water in greedy gulps before surrendering the glass to the sink.
"Saturday?" Her mother looked aghast.
"Yes. A private affair at his mansion. I only want you and Dad and Lorelei there."
Jolie raced over and grasped Merina's face. "I'd ask if you were pregnant, but surely you wouldn't drink this much if you were."
Merina put a palm over one of her mother's hands. "I'm not pregnant. I"—she swallowed and told another lie, hoping to God she'd remember how to tell the truth once she was through with this charade. "We fell in love."
The phrase came out as if said while her mouth was full of peanut butter, lilting at the end so it sounded more like a question.
"We didn't expect it. I wasn't trying to keep it from you."
"But your dress…" Jolie didn't continue but she didn't have to. Her mother had wanted to be there when Merina tried on her wedding gown, of course she had.
You were busy at work," Merina mumbled, knowing it was a lame excuse. Then she said, "You'll see it Saturday," which was even lamer.
Jolie moved her hands out from under Merina's, covered her own face, and burst into tears.
Sobriety never came so fast.
Her father curled an arm around her mom, shushing her, and sent Merina a glare. "This is the wrong time to do this. Better head to bed." His glare had definitely not softened.
Merina nodded and let her parents go up ahead of her. She lingered by the sink, refilling the glass and popping two Advil in the hopes she'd stave off the headache that would no doubt hit her tomorrow morning.
She adjusted the ring on her finger, admiring its beauty and hating what it stood for at the same time. A sham of a marriage that was already hurting the ones she loved. You're doing this for them, she reminded herself. Then she climbed the steps and fell into bed.
Chapter 8
Ideal wedding weather" was how Penelope Brand had described the day when she texted her congratulations on Saturday morning. Merina could state with conviction that the weather was not her main concern.
Her goal was simple: Remain in the here and now, standing in front of God and her parents, her best friend, and the man to whom she'd soon be lawfully wed, without passing out or bursting into tears.
And she didn't mean tears of joy.
For most of the ceremony, she'd kept her focus on Reese's bow tie. His tux was stunning black, his dark blue eyes welcoming, his hair perfect. Her dress had been altered, the lace fitted snugly, the back low but not too low. Her ring was now paired with the matching wedding band and the weight of it on her hand was almost overwhelming.
She was in the process of being married. Unbelievable.
On her "husband's" side of the room were Reese's father, Alex, his brother Tag, and a man named Bob, who Reese had referred to as a member of the board. Merina didn't like Bob. It was partly his fault she was in this mess.
The officiant's voice was a distant murmur saying words she'd heard before at friends' and family members' weddings, only now those recited promises were coming from her lips. Things like "to have and to hold" and "from this day forward" and "until death do us part."
Part of her screamed from the inside that she was essentially lying and the lying part of her argued that for now, at least, she meant it. This marriage would die when Reese became CEO of Crane Hotels.
So that sort of counted.
The officiant said, "You may kiss your bride," and Merina thought she was ready for Reese's mouth on hers again. She was wrong. His kiss was as heady as it had been before and even in the midst of uncertainty she found herself leaning in. She didn't have to fake her physical attraction to him. Not even a little.
The marriage may be for show, but her reaction to him was very real. How could he taste this good, feel this good if this was supposed to be pretend? He deepened the kiss and she stood on her toes to get closer, aware of Tag cutting in with a sharp whistle and a shout of, "Hell, yeah!"
She lowered to her heels as applause engulfed them. Reese kept his gaze locked to hers, and she wondered if his smile was as genuine as his kiss.
* * *
The reception was a tidy affair, by Reese's choice. He may have let his wedding planner go overboard with the flowers out front, but inside was a neat buffet-style table. Well, mostly neat. She'd littered the table with candles.
Reese plated up a selection of meats and cheeses aside Merina as their guests lined up behind them to do the same. He'd tried to read her during the ceremony as much as he'd tried to manage his facial expressions. He wasn't nervous, but the "till death" part made him twitchy. He didn't take promises or commitments lightly. But then he reminded himself that was why he was marrying Merina in the first place.