Page 16 of The Love Clause

Josie

I've seenplaces like Harrison Lodge in movies—the kind where troubled families reconnect or serial killers hunt down groups of attractive young people. The massive timber beams, stone fireplaces big enough to roast an entire cow, and the kind of rustic-luxury decor that screams "we spent a fortune to look like we chopped down these trees ourselves." What the movies never capture is the smell—a perfect blend of wood smoke, pine, expensive cologne, and money. Lots and lots of money.

"Stop gawking," Elliot murmurs close to my ear as we stand in the grand lobby, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. "You look like you've never seen a lodge before."

"I haven't," I whisper back, trying not to flinch at his touch. Not because it's unpleasant—quite the opposite. His hand is warm and steady, and the casual possessiveness of the gesture makes my stomach do a weird little flip. "The closest I've come to 'mountain luxury' is a tent my college boyfriend set up in Prospect Park."

"Well, act like this is normal," he advises, his voice low. "You're engaged to me, remember? This should be your world now too."

"Right. Totally normal. Just another Friday at the multi-million-dollar log cabin." I plaster on a smile that I hope looks more "happy fiancée" than "terrified impostor."

After arriving, we'd been shown to our room—a spacious suite with a king bed (just one, of course), a stone fireplace, and a bathroom bigger than my entire apartment. Barney had immediately claimed a plush armchair as his territory, much to Elliot's obvious dismay. We'd had just enough time to freshen up before being summoned to the welcome reception in the main hall.

Now, surrounded by what appears to be the cast of "Rich People Monthly," I'm acutely aware of how out of place I feel despite the expensive clothes Elliot provided. These people have a certain ease, a confidence that comes from never having to check their bank account before ordering appetizers.

"Elliot, my boy!" A booming voice cuts through the crowd, and a distinguished older man approaches us, arms outstretched. This must be Mr. Harrison. He has exactly the kind of silver-fox handsomeness that graces financial magazine covers, with kind eyes that nonetheless seem to evaluate everything they see.

"Mr. Harrison." Elliot's posture shifts subtly, his professional mask sliding into place even as his arm curves more definitively around my waist. "Thank you for having us."

"Nonsense! Wouldn't have it any other way." Harrison's attention shifts to me, his eyes bright with curiosity. "And this must be the fiancée I've heard so little about."

"Josie Palmer," I say, extending my hand and hoping it's not visibly shaking. "It's wonderful to meet you, Mr. Harrison. Elliot speaks very highly of you."

"Does he now?" Harrison takes my hand in both of his, his grip warm and firm. "Well, that's a pleasant surprise. Elliot's usually so tight-lipped about everything except contract law."

"He's very…focused," I agree, smiling up at Elliot with what I hope passes for affection.

"Indeed! A quality I deeply admire in my lawyers, though perhaps less so in my dinner companions." Harrison laughs heartily. "Tell me, how did a free spirit like yourself end up engaged to the most serious young attorney in Manhattan?"

I feel Elliot tense beside me, so I jump in with our rehearsed story. "He literally ran into me in Central Park—I was walking dogs, he was jogging. Knocked me right over, and then had the nerve to lecture me about leash laws while helping me up."

Harrison's eyebrows rise with delight. "Is that so?"

"She exaggerates," Elliot says smoothly. "I merely suggested that five dogs might be too many for one person to control effectively."

"And I suggested that maybe he should watch where his 'powerful stride' was taking him," I add, using air quotes and feeling a small thrill when Elliot's cheeks color slightly.

Harrison roars with laughter. "Magnificent! The perfect match—she'll keep you from becoming too stuffy, Elliot."

"She certainly tries," Elliot agrees, with a tight smile that somehow manages to look genuine.

"Well, come along, let me introduce you to everyone." Harrison gestures for us to follow him deeper into the crowd. "We've got quite the group this weekend—partners, clients, family. My granddaughter's even organized a few activities to help everyone get better acquainted."

The next twenty minutes are a blur of introductions. There's Harrison's son and daughter-in-law, his business partners and their spouses, a few clients who seem just as wealthy and traditional as Harrison himself, and an assortment of otherconnections I'll never remember. I smile until my face hurts, accepting flutes of champagne and making small talk about the lodge, the weather, anything but my fictional relationship with Elliot.

Throughout it all, Elliot stays close, his hand never leaving my back or my waist, occasionally leaning down to whisper context about whoever we're speaking with. To anyone watching, we must look like a couple—comfortable, connected, in sync. If only they could hear my heart hammering against my ribs every time his breath tickles my ear.

"Everyone, if I could have your attention!" A young woman who had been introduced as Harrison's granddaughter, Melissa, stands near the massive stone fireplace, clapping her hands. "Now that we're all here, I thought we'd start the weekend with a fun icebreaker!"

A ripple of polite enthusiasm moves through the crowd, though I notice several of the older businessmen looking as thrilled as if she'd suggested group colonoscopies.

"Since this is a couples' retreat, I've prepared a little game to see how well you all know your partners," Melissa continues, her enthusiasm undeterred by the mixed reaction. "Each couple will take turns answering questions about each other. The pair with the most correct answers wins a special prize!"

My stomach drops to somewhere around my ankles. Elliot and I exchange a quick, panicked glance.

"We're screwed," I mutter through a fixed smile.

"Stay calm," he replies, though I can feel the tension in his fingers where they press against my hip. "We reviewed the basics."

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