Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
We stand just outside the door for a moment, holding hands and looking at each other, and it feels. . .right, despite where we are and why we’re here. He looks away and taps the door twice with his knuckle. A man wearing a black suit on the other side opens and greets us. We return his greeting and walk into the grand foyer. Lachlan leads me down a hall with the most incredible statues I’ve ever seen, and art on the walls that belongs in a museum.
This entire estate should be a museum. It’s the kind of place your parents take you to, and then threaten to disown you if you touch anything. I’m trying not to even look at anything as we walk by, just in case. The hall opens up to another foyer, just as big. This one has natural light seeping in from the dome glass up top. It’s actually quite beautiful. Standing around the circle are three clusters of old men. We say hello as we walk past them. All I see are men and more men. Huh.
“Is it called a cocktail party because of the amount of cocks in the room?” I ask quietly.
Lachlan laughs, his eyes twinkling as his grip tightens on my hand. “God, Lyla.”
He grins, shaking his head as we keep walking. I guess he thinks I’m asking as a joke. I’m not. As we walk, we say hello to more people, smile at their congratulations, and I finally see one woman amongst the men. She’s older, but not as old as most of these men, who are easily my dad’s age and beyond. They’re obviously his father’s friends. I smile politely and pretend to listen, as Lach speaks to one of the men about golf. This is his third golf conversation. Some of them asked about hockey, which is understandable, but golf? I’ve only been here ten minutes and I’m already falling asleep. As they speak, the woman excuses herself and walks over to me.
“Congratulations, dear,” she says. “I’m Laura.”
“Thank you.” I smile. “Lyla. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“All of the women are in the tea room. You should join us,” she says, smiling as she walks away.
“Thanks,” I say, the smile frozen on my face.
Oh my God. The tea room. Kill me now. There’s no way in hell I’m going in there, unless there’s some kind of hallucinogen in the tea. After a couple of minutes, my cheeks begin to hurt from fake smiling, so I drop it. We receive a slew of congratulations before we finally see his mother, who’s the only familiar face in the room thus far. She’s smiling as she walks over wearing a beautiful navy dress, with her dirty blonde hair picked up in a classy low bun. Lach lets go of my hand just as she reaches me.
“Hey, Valerie. You look amaz—” is all I can get out before she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug.
I have to awkwardly lift my hands and pat her, in order to sort of return it. This wasn’t the greeting I was expecting, considering we’ve only met once, but I’m grateful for it. She pulls away and takes me in.
“Oh, my God. You’re even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you.” Her eyes flick to Lachlan. “Isn’t she?”
“She is,” he says, taking me in slowly from head to toe and back. His eyes are dark when they reach mine again. I feel myself shiver and look away quickly, my attention back on his mother.
“I’m thrilled about your engagement. You don’t know how happy I am that I finally get a daughter,” she says.
She still has that wide smile on her face that reaches her eyes, so I know she means it. Her statement hits me in the center of my chest and travels to my throat, but I manage to push past it and smile. Maybe it’s the fact that I lost my mother at such a crucial age, but it feels good to hear that. Not that anyone could ever replace my mother, but having the support of a woman is unmatched.
“Thank you so much,” I say, smiling. “That means a lot to me.”
“I know this is a lot to take in, but you’ll sort of get used to it,” she says quietly.
“Yeah. I’m not sure about that,” I say, laughing lightly as I look around.
She looks at my hand and focuses on her son. “Lachlan. Where’s her ring?”
I watch the scene play out as she rips into Lachlan, who tells her it’s being fitted because it was too big on me. I shoot him a look. Nice save, asshole. At least, he looks apologetic about it. I assume she knows about the situation if she asked him and not me. Lach has been telling everyone that the wedding will be intimate, “just us,” which is technically true. I’ve always thought of an intimate wedding as romantic. This is everything but. I push that aside. If I get sad, I’ll get angry, and I can’t let myself get angry again. Especially here.