Page 35 of Love You, Mean It

“He was extra shitty to you because deep down, some part of himbelievesthis whole thing.”

I sat back in the stupidly comfortable leatherette seat, turning itover in my head. It made a weird sort of sense. Ted Taylor wasclearly used to getting his way…but whatever had happened with the other women Theo had been with, the proverbial dealhadnever been sealed. I was starting to get the sense that Theo didn’t outright stand up to Ted very often—if working at the family company wasn’t proof enough, the dinner was a pretty clear demonstration—so for him to throwmein Ted’s face…

Tingly excitement fizzed through me. Theo was right, Ted would see it as the equivalent of a full frontal assault, a battle so obviously guaranteed to be bloody that his son would never waste precious resources on it without good reason. Impulsively, I reached for Theo’s hand, grinning widely as I squeezed it. He glanced down, raising an eyebrow, but for the second time in the last few minutes, he didn’t pull his hand away.

The static electricity that skittered up my arm at the touch was probably just nervous tension over realizing he thought it was strange. Nothing more.

“You really think we’ve convinced him?” I said, releasing his hand, determined not to let this feel weird.

“I think tonight was averygood start.” His soft smile loosened the anxiety coiling through me. “But it’s only that. A start. He needs to believe in this totally for Mangia to come off the table.” Theo faced forward again, putting the car in Drive and pulling out onto the road in one smooth motion, one hand on the wheel, the other engaged in making his points. “Our next step has to be convincing other people.”

“Sir, yes sir.”

Theo’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t turn to me.

“I’m serious, Ellie. Like I said, appearances matter to Ted. It’s one thing to resent the Taylors for doing well, it’s another to haveproofthat Ted’s mercenary enough to drive his own future family out of business. Closing down Greco’s Deli might not bother him now, but if youwerea Taylor? Think how that wouldlook.” He pulled a faux-scandalized expression, eyes flashing appreciatively when I laughed.

“Whoa there. You know I’m not taking your name, right? Like…ever.” Theo’s mouth twisted in amusement. It was amazinghow much more interesting it made his otherwise almost aggressively Ken-doll features.

“Oh? And why’s that?”

“You said we need people to believe this. They’d never buy me takinganyone’sname unless I’d taken the blow to the head.”

“Noted. Just don’t tell Ted until you absolutely have to. You’re far enough down his shit list without adding feminist to your tally of offenses.”

“Don’t worry, I plan to avoid ever speaking to Ted again unless you force me to. Which maybe…there’s no reason to go there?” Theo threw me a single-raised-eyebrow,Good fucking luck. “Fiiine. Then just as long as I can avoid it, I suppose.”

“Always the best plan with Ted,” Theo confirmed, nodding sagely.

“Okay, now Ihaveto ask. ‘Ted’?”

“Come on.” Theo lowered his eyelids conspiratorially. “Can you really seethatman as a ‘Dad’?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but when did itstart? I have to believe there was some point when you called him Dad.”

“I suppose it started…around six years ago.” Theo didn’t look at me, didn’t shift his expression, but his posture went a hair more rigid, as though he was bracing his entire body.

“Six years? Like the amount of time youactuallylost at the hospital?” I said slowly, testing with each word how safe the ice was that I could feel us stepping out onto.

“I suppose so, yes.”

I chewed my lower lip. It was none of my business what had changed then. What had been important enough that it not only marked a clear breaking point in Theo’s relationship with his father, but a break in hismind.

But I was supposed to be his fiancée, right? I should know the major turning points in his life.

“What happened six years ago, Theo?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” His hands gripped the steering wheel infinitesimally tighter.

“If we’re going to pull this off, you have to—”

“I don’thaveto do anything, Ellie,” he snapped. In the close confines of the car, his voice sounded painfully loud.And a little like Ted’s.

“Okay, no, you don’t have to.” I inched forward even more slowly than before, a single toe on the next foot of ice, that much farther from whatever shoreline we’d so suddenly abandoned. “But if we’re going to convince people that this is real, knowing more about each other would help.”

“No,” he said, eyes narrowing at the road.

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