Page 37 of Forecasting the Forward

“What wedding?” Becca asks.

Becca’s mother jumps in. “Rebecca, may I speak with you outside?”

“No,” I interject. “Anything you have to say can be said right here.”

“You will not tell me how to deal with my daughter,” Mrs. Stephens says stiffly. “You mean nothing. You are nothing. Probably just some trash Rebecca picked up to try and disappoint me.”

Jesus. Is this the shit Becca had to deal with growing up? No wonder she got the hell out of here. “If you think you’re going to make me feel bad about myself, ma’am, you’ve got another thing coming. I couldn’t care less about your opinions of me.”

“Oh, please,” Rodney says with a stuffy laugh. “That’s just because you don’t know how much money we have.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “You also don’t know how much money I have.”

“Nothing, undoubtedly. That’s why you sidled up to my unsuspecting sister,” Rodney sneers. “You saw her on television and figured she’s rich. Then a quick Google search of her family, and suddenly, you think you’ve hit the jackpot.”

Mrs. Betterson glances warily between us. “This is hardly a topic for dinner. I don’t understand why he’s even here if she’s marrying Benjamin Gaines’ son.”

“The fuck?” I blurt out.

“I’m not marrying him!” Becca shouts. She stands suddenly, knocking her chair over, dropping my hand in the process. She turns toward the end of the table, pointing toward old fart number two and a smarmy man grinning next to him. “I am not marrying you!”

“Rebecca, sit down!” Rodney booms. “You will marry who I tell you to.”

“I will not!” she cries out. “Besides, I can’t marry him. First of all, because I don’t even know him, but also …”

She trails off, looking down at me, and I know exactly what she’s about to say before she says it.

“I’m already married. To Jacob.”

Am I married?No.

But it’s the only thing I could think of saying, and I hope Jacob doesn’t bolt.

“You’re married? Without telling us?” Mother gasps, dramatically throwing her hand onto her chest in disbelief. “How could you?”

Oh, for a myriad of reasons, Mother.

“If you’re married, why aren’t you wearing an engagement ring or wedding band?” Rodney asks, his eyes narrowed as he stares at my hand. Before I can answer, Jacob stands up, sliding his right arm around my waist.

“We didn’t think this was the right time to announce. We wanted this visit to be all about the life and legacy of your father,” he says smoothly, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s going along with my ruse. It really doesn’t matter, because my brother is like a dog with a bone when he wants to humiliate me. He’ll research marriage certificates, find out I’m not married, and then we’ll be back at where we are now.

“Why was I being offered up to Benjamin Gates’ son? For crying out loud. I don’t even know his name!” I blurt out. I turn to Benjamin, then notice his son blatantly staring at my breasts. Gross.

He gives me a leery smile. “It’s Richard. And we need an heir.”

“And there aren’t any other women you can force yourself on?”

“Your brother offered me a deal I couldn’t refuse,” Benjamin shrugs.

“What deal?” I say, my teeth clenched. I turn to my brother. “What deal?”

Rodney stands, attempting to look bigger. “Your presence is required at home. We’ve let you gallivant around the country for long enough. You can annul or divorce, and then you will marry Dick. We won’t let this count against you.”

“Count against her? You act like she’s a child that needs to be grounded,” Jacob says, his arm tightening around me. “There will be no annulment or divorce. Becca is mine.”

Rodney laughs maliciously. “I will bury you in any way I choose. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“Cyclogenesis,” I mutter, humiliation burning up my spine, and I feel Jacob squeeze my waist reassuringly.

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