Page 75 of A Bossy Proposal

“Oh, please,” she waves her hand dismissively. “Call me Catherine. We’re family now.”

Arabella twirls her platinum locks as she looks around the room and back at Catherine. “Mom, can we start planning the wedding tomorrow? There’s so much to do!”

I seize the opportunity. “Actually, about that... The wedding, it’s...it’s too soon. West and I, we’d decided to move things slowly. And I really want to get married in a church.”

Catherine’s smile falters for a moment, but she quickly recovers. She places a hand on my arm, leading me away from the group. “Amelia, dear, I like you. I really do. But let me give you some advice.” Her voice lowers, taking on a serious tone. “Be careful with my husband. Gordon is a vindictive man when he doesn’t get his own way, and he wants West married.”

I blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I...I don’t understand.”

Catherine’s eyes dart around the room before settling back on me. “Just know that once Gordon sets his mind on something, it’s best not to stand in his way. For everyone’s sake.”

As she walks away, leaving me stunned, I can’t help but wonder what exactly I’m getting myself into. This fake engagement was supposed to be a simple business arrangement. But now, we’re talking about a wedding and, worse, cryptic warnings about Gordon.

I have enough of my own problems without adding more.

“I need some fresh air,” I tell Arabella when she returns.

“I’m going to find West’s friends,” she says. “Find me afterward.”

The champagne flute in my hand is empty as I wander through the crowded rooms, searching for West.

My mind’s still reeling from Gordon’s announcement. West’s past. And a wedding? In July? That’s only two months away.

I set the glass down on a passing waiter’s tray.

I need to find West and figure out what’s going on. He’ll have the answer. He always does.

As I turn a corner, I hear his voice, low and intense. “What’s Dad up to?”

I pause, about to call out, but his tone makes me hesitate.

“Dad? It’s you who is putting on quite the show, bro,” East’s voice carries clearly. “Dad’s eating it up.”

I press myself against the wall, my heart pounding.

Show? What show?

“It’s not a show,” West growls, but there’s something off in his voice.

East chuckles. “Come on, West. We both know what this is about. The company, Dad’s shares, the whole nine yards. But I’ve got to hand it to you. You’re selling it well. She even looks like she likes you. I just hope it’s fake for her sake.”

My heart drops into my stomach. The champagne I drank earlier threatens to make a reappearance. I press a hand to my mouth, trying to stifle any sound that might escape.

“You know it’s not like that,” West says, but his voice lacks conviction.

“Sure, sure,” East replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “And I’m the Pope. Look, I get it. We need this to work to get Dad off our backs and secure our positions. But don’t go falling for your own act, okay? You got her to stay but remember the endgame.”

“I’m not losing sight of what we’re planning…” West grunts.

“Good. For a minute there, I regretted not pushing for the actress as your fake fiancée. I thought you were losing sight of the bigger picture.”

“I’m not losing sight of anything.”

I can’t breathe. The room spins around me as East’s words echo in my head. I rest my head against the wall, trying to pull myself together. I thought that West actually cared for me. That this fake relationship had somehow become real? That one day we would get married…just not mere months away.

It all makes sense. All the words about being his. They were all lies to ensure I fell for him.

To make it look real.

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