Page 112 of The Fiancée Farce
“Talk about copy-paste,” Tansy teased. “It’s not creepy if I can’t help but wonder what exactly Victor donated to the mix, is it?”
“Tansy, baby.” She reached out, lacing their fingers together and bringing their joined hands to her lips so she could brush a kiss against Tansy’s knuckles. “That’s just about the greatest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Tansy blushed sweetly and—God, that was never going to get old. “Did you not know she was coming?”
Gemma set her drink down. “Tomorrow, yeah, but I had no idea she was coming tonight. Did you?”
Tansy ’s expression went dry, dark brows rising. “Katherine was far from forthcoming with the guest list.”
Go figure. As far as their wedding went, Gemma had a feeling all she and Tansy needed to do was show up.
“Come on,” she said. “I want you to meet my mom.”
As soon as they reached the far side of the ballroom, Gemma dropped Tansy’s hand and wrapped her arms around Mom’s shoulders. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’ve got to admit, that’s notquitethe warm welcome I hoped to receive.” Mom pressed a kiss to Gemma’s forehead. “Are you not happy to see me?”
“Of course I’m happy to see you.” Gemma scowled. “I just didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
She loved her mother and she loved having her around. It would just be nice if thearounddidn’t involve being in the vicinity of the Van Dalens.
“Tansy’s stepmother sent me an invitation.”
Gemma rolled her eyes.Of courseshe did.
“And you must be Tansy. My word, you’re pretty.” Mom wrapped Tansy up in a hug, and something funny happened inside Gemma’s chest, her heart squeezing at the sight. “My daughter isn’t giving you too much grief, is she?”
“It’s really lovely to finally meet you, MissWest. And no.” Tansy grinned. “Not too much.”
“Really feeling the love, Mom.” Gemma narrowed her eyes, pretending to be annoyed when she was anything but.
“Someone’sgot to keep you on your toes, hon.” Mom winked and Tansy stifled a laugh. “And call me Lena. Please.”
“Lena,” Tansy agreed.
“Now, Gemma, sweetie, you know I’m thrilled to see you, but could you be a dear and point me in the direction of the bar? I hada long drive and the Venn diagram of people in this room who are staring and people who hate my guts is a circle. I could use a drink.”
Gemma turned in a slow semicircle, eyes sweeping the room. “There should be a waiter with champagne around here somewhere. Unless you’re more in the mood for aGensy.”
“Gesundheit.” Mom frowned.
“No, it’s a—” Gemma laughed. “You know what? Never mind. Let me just find a—”
“Gemma, there you are.” Brooks sidestepped a waiter carrying a tray of amuse-bouche. “I wanted to give you my—Lena?”
“Brooks.” Mom’s eyes widened. “Hello.”
“Hi.” He smoothed the front of his paisley-print suit jacket. “It’s been awhile.”
“Years,” she agreed.
“Twelve of them,” he said, not taking his eyes off of her. Barely even blinking.
Mom pursed her lips. “Twelve? Really?”
“Gemma’s graduation.”
“My word. I guess you’re right.”
