Page 41 of Surprise! I'm Engaged To My Boss
“The party will never happen. We set the wedding date for the end of the year; our engagement will be broken off before then.”
“After a whole party planned?”
“Don't worry about the expenses. My mother and I will cover everything. It won't be a big deal. Believe me, my mother has already suffered much greater losses with me.” I could list the college, the courses abroad and so many other things.
Lawyers, bail at police stations, an extra year of studying when I repeated the third year at school, a hospital stay due to an alcoholic coma.
Anyway, it wasn'treallythe point.
“It’s not just about the expenses, but about my grandmother getting involved in planning something big that’s not going to happen.”
Seriously, why would that be a big deal?
“I'm so sorry about this, Camila. I had no idea my mother would be so excited about it. I'll try to convince her that we really want something simple, just a civil ceremony. But apparently, you'll need to convince your grandmother of that too.”
She sighed, looking tired of the whole situation. “I'd rather convince her now, than have her be disappointed by the plans in three months, when we're done with everything.”
I nodded and we fell silent.
I took advantage of that first moment when we were alone to look at her once more, once again making a mental note of how hot she looked in that dress.
It was impossible not to remember those moments captured by the hotel corridor camera, when we kissed while I ran my hands over the curves of her body. It would be a pain to have to spend so much time being forced to live with her and having to control the desire she awakened in me.
However, there was something else that she awakened in me. And that I had no intention of trying to control, laughter.
Apollo appeared at the beginning of the hallway, and she screamed, rushing into the bathroom and slamming the door.
“No need for that,” I said near the door, laughing, as I ran my hand over Apollo’s head. “He’s gentle.”
“That’s what every dog owner says!” she replied, her voice tearful. “And stop laughing, it’s not funny.”
Oh, yes, it was.
That would always be funny to me.
Chapter Eighteen
CAMILA
The next day, I woke up feeling like a truck had run over me while I slept. And this time I hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol the day before.
Still, it felt like I was hungover from everything that had happened.
I must admit that I found Michael Turner's mother to be much nicer than I had imagined. His sister-in-law was also a sweetheart, and his brother was very polite. I had been working at Turner Architecture for over two years, long enough to have been through the period when he was CEO and, although he was more approachable than his brother, he was still a very distant figure, considered rigid and known for running everything there with a much stronger iron fist than his late father.
Back to Trinity Turner... Everyone said she was a bit of a diva, and, well, that part seemed to be absolutelytrue. But she seemed to like me, treated me very kindly, and—most importantly to me—she got along really well with my grandmother.
If she treated my grandmother well, she already guaranteed my sympathy.
However, all that talk about wedding preparations was exhausting.
When I came back from the bathroom to the table, I still tried to change their minds, but I could see sadness in my grandmother's eyes when she thought about the possibility of her only granddaughter getting married only in a civil ceremony. She didn't care about grand parties, but, if necessary, she would make a cake herself – even though she wasn't that good at baking – and decorate the living room of our apartment so we could welcome friends and toast to my wedding.
Besides, of course, she always dreamed of seeing me wearing a wedding dress, holding a bouquet and everything.
And that's why I completely lost the courage to keep insisting and I let the plans continue to be made.
The same thing seemed to happen with Michael and his mother, but he tried even harder to convince her that we didn't want a big party.
