Page 47 of The Fiancée Farce
“Bodice rippers.” Bitsie turned up her nose.
“Yeah, well, sometimes a ladylikeshaving her bodice ripped.” Gemma smirked.
Brooks raised his glass in the air. “Hear, hear.”
“It doesn’t matter what you call it.” Bitsie sneered. “It’s pornography.”
“Hey, there’s a thought,” Gemma said. “Maybe, once I’m company president, I’ll buy Brazzers and turn Van Dalen Publishing into a multimedia empire to rivalPlayboy. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
“Hieronymus would be rolling in his grave,” Bitsie said, one hand pressed to her chest, scandalized.
Brooks snorted. “Wouldn’t that be a neat trick?”
“This is no time for jokes,” Victor cut in. “The reputation of this family is at stake. This is your grandfather’s legacy we’re talking about.”
Who could say why exactly her grandfather had named her his successor? But he had, infuriating her father and Uncle Sterling, who had each assumed that they would be named, respectively. Brooks had shrugged the snub off, claiming that, as the youngest son, he’d never expected to be in the running.
No one had been more surprised than Gemma, doubly so when the executor of her grandfather’s will wentoh by the wayand told Gemma she had to get hitched in order to inherit. A part of her had wondered whether it was a joke, Grandpa’s sense of humor always having been a touch bizarre, his punch lines never quite sticking the landing.
Or maybe he’d given her a hoop to jump through, intending for her to fail. Only why go through all that trouble when he could’ve simply named Tucker instead?
It made no sense.
Or maybe Gemma had grown so accustomed to searching out subtext, listening for whatwasn’tsaid, that she was missing out on the most obvious reason of all—the one Grandpa himself had given.
Her great-grandfather, Wilhelm van Dalen, might’ve built Van Dalen Publishing from the ground up, but it was Hieronymus van Dalen, her grandfather, who had turned it into the empire it was today. And in every interview he gave, without fail, Grandfather credited his wife, Gemma’s late grandmother, Mara, for the success of the company. Without his wife, he’d said, time and again, Van Dalen Publishing would’ve been a shadow of the company it was, and he a shadow of a man. Old-fashioned—hell,archaic—asit was, her grandfather’s belief that every person needed a partner to be their best self was no secret, and neither was his disappointment in his sons for failing to follow in his footsteps.
Victor was twice divorced, Sterling recurrently unfaithful, and Brooks a self-professed bachelor. Perhaps Grandpa hadn’t said he’d skipped them for those reasons, but the clues were all there, along with his reason behind the stipulation she be married before assuming the role of CEO.
“A fact of which I’m well aware,” Gemma said. “What you all seem to be forgetting is that it doesn’t matter whether you think I’m capable or worthy of running this company. Grandpa did.”
Assuming his motives were honest, Grandpa must’ve seensomethingpromising in her, believed in her, believed she wasn’t the fuckup and failure everyone else thought she was.
“The man was senile,” Tucker muttered.
“Fuck off, Tucker.”
“Enough.” Victor raised his voice and Tucker’s mouth snapped shut. “Eight years of boarding school, thousands of dollars spent on the best private tutors money could buy, andyouresort to crass language in order to make your point. I’d say I was disappointed if I hadn’t come to expect this sort of behavior.”
As if Gemma hadaskedfor those private tutors, as if she’daskedto be shipped off to boarding school, as if she’d asked for any of it.
“I believe there were at least a few elocution lessons in there, too, which is why I made sure to enunciate when I told Tucker to fuck off.”
“Gemma,” her father scolded, face going ruddy.
She held her hands up, feigning contrition. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Where are my manners? Tucker”—she smiled winsomely—“kindlyfuck off.”
“Victor.” Bitsie looked beside herself. “She’s out of line. She’s—”
“If she’s anything like me, she’s had it up to here with your histrionics, Bitsie,” Brooks chimed in.
“Youbutt out.” Bitsie pointed at Brooks. “You’re nothing but a bad influence.”
“Why, Bitsie, that’s about the kindest thing you’ve ever—”
“Not that watching you all fight isn’t my idea of a good time. But if we could move this along, that would be great. I’d hate to leave my fiancée waiting.”
“Give it up, Gemma.” Tucker scoffed. “You can’t honestly expect anyone to believe you’ddatea girl like Tansy, let alone marry her.”
