Page 147 of The Fiancée Farce
Now,thatwas ridiculous. “There’s not one thing boring about me.”
“Married for less than three hours and already a drag.” Teddy tutted, grinning. “Tell me, Tansy, how does it feel, having a ball and chain?”
Gemma drew back and narrowed her eyes, shaking her finger at Tansy playfully. “Answer carefully.”
Tansy leaned forward and nipped at the tip of Gemma’s finger, dissolving into peals of laughter, presumably, at the look on Gemma’s face.Someonewas feisty. “It feelsgreat. Like I’d do it all over again if I could.”
Rochelle grinned. “I thinkthatis the champagne talking.”
“I think Rochelle might be right.” Teddy nudged Tansy with his elbow. “I do believe you’re drunk, love.”
“She’s queer.” Yvonne laughed.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Tansy laughed and snuggled up against Gemma’s side, head lolling against Gemma’s shoulder. Gemma dragged her even closer, sneaking a thumb under Tansy’s sweater and sweeping little arcing semicircles against her skin.
Tansy shivered sweetly as Gemma pressed a kiss to Tansy’s hairline. Gemma reached for Tansy’s glass of water and set it down in front of her. “Drink up.”
Max grinned. “Oh yeah, she’sdefinitelygone boring on us.”
Gemma rolled her eyes and kicked Max under the table. “Shut up.”
She couldn’t even say it with a straight face. She hadn’t stopped smiling since she’d slipped that oversized ring on Tansy’s finger.
“Big, bad company president.” Teddy reached out and booped her nose. “Tell me, how does it feel?”
Terrifying.
Surreal.
Amazing.
Like it hadn’t quite hit her.
Like she was cradling something fragile in her hands and she couldn’t hold on to it too tight, otherwise she’d crush it. But if she didn’t hold on to it tight enough, it would slip between her fingers.
Like she had the worst case of imposter syndrome and was just waiting for someone to walk up and tell her there’d been a huge mistake. Did Gemmaactuallythink she was president of Van Dalen Publishing? Ha fucking ha. She wasn’tactuallymarried to Tansy. It was all just a joke. April Fools’ had come a few months early.
Gemma wasn’t sure when it was going to feel real, when she was going to stop being slightly terrified that she’d wake up and realize this was all a dream.
It wasn’t today. It probably wouldn’t be tomorrow, either. But until that time came...
“It feels good,” she said. “Reallygood.”
Because on the off chance that none of this was real? Gemma was going to savor every fucking minute of it.
If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
“It feels even better knowing that I don’t have to do it by myself.” Oh God. She stuck out her tongue. “That was horrifically sappy.”
“If you can’t be sappy on your wedding day, when can you be?” Brooks wandered up to the table, rocks glass in hand. “Congratulations, you two.” He tipped his glass toward them. “Again.”
“Thanks, Uncle Brooks. And thank you for getting us this room on such short notice.”
After she and Tansy had exchanged their vows and she had accepted the role of company president with majority board backing, the general meeting had proceeded, business as usual. After three long hours, the meeting had concluded, the board secretary promising to email out the meeting’s minutes later in the afternoon. Minutes Gemma was going to without a doubt frame and hang on a wall somewhere, because talk about a memory she wanted to keep.
Victor and Sterling had slipped out, their tails between their legs, while the rest of the board and shareholders sipped champagne and ate cake that someone had procured from—well, Gemma didn’t know exactly where the cake had come from, only that she wasn’t about to say no to a slice of red velvet decadence. At some point, Brooks had climbed up onto the conference table, attention whore that he was, and told everyone the party was moving down the street to the private loft at Purple Café & Wine Bar.
She and Tansy had walked into a party already in full swing, just waiting for the guests of honor to arrive.
