Page 65 of The Fiancée Farce
Tansy’s mouth opened and closed. “I—I looked at Gemma and I had butterflies.”
So that’s what that odd but not altogether awful fluttering filling Gemma’s stomach was.Butterflies.It was nice to have a name to put to the feeling so she didn’t have to go around calling it indigestion.
Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Cool.”
Gemma sat up, scowling. It was one thing to condescend toher, and something else entirely to condescend to Tansy. To Tansy’sfeelings. Feelings about Gemma. Feelings that, once Gemma had the time to unpack them, would probably scare her shitless. Regardless, it wasn’t Ronnie’s business. “Okay—”
“No, it really wasn’t cool,” Tansy said, frowning. “I was kind of terrified, to be honest, because I hadn’t had butterflies in ages. I haven’t had the greatest track record with my relationships, see, so getting butterflies was like—like a red flag. A risk I should have avoided at all costs, but I was curious, too. And I thought about saying no. I could’ve said no. But I didn’t want to say no, so I didn’t.”
“And this was when, exactly?”
“Um, April,” Tansy said. “Right?”
Gemma quickly did the math. “Right. April. I moved back to town this past March.”
“You were in New York prior to this, weren’t you? What brought you back to Seattle?”
“My lease was up.” She shrugged. “My roommate and good friend Teddy had just finished grad school and had been offered a teaching position at Cornish College of the Arts, so it made sense to come back to town.”
Ronnie scribbled something down inside her notebook. “And who proposed to whom?”
“I did,” Gemma said, sticking to the truth, as much as possible.
“Well,” Tansy said, smirking. “I don’t remember you actuallyasking.”
They hadn’t rehearsed any of this, and yet they played off each other naturally.
Gemma laughed. “It was implied.”
But if Tansy wanted her to make up for it, Gemma would bemorethan happy to get down on her knees. Pick up where they had left off in the library.
Ronnie nodded. “All right. And this was when?”
Tansy looked at her, panicked. “Um.”
“A few weeks ago?” Gemma pulled the answer out of her ass. “Um. September... something.”
“September.” Tansy nodded. “It was after the Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association trade show.”
“Right.” Gemma snapped her fingers. “After the trade show.”
Ronnie scribbled something else down. Gemma craned her neck, trying to steal a peek, but it was all gibberish, Ronnie’s handwriting like chicken scratch, completely illegible upside down.
“Your engagement isn’t the only big change you’ve faced in the last few months,” Ronnie said. “What with your grandfather’s death.”
Tact, thy name was not Ronnie.
“Changes, yup, I’ve faced plenty of ’em.”
“Your late grandfather, Hieronymus van Dalen, named you his successor, news that only recently broke; what do you have to say to those who deemed you an unlikely candidate for the position of company president, if they considered you at all?”
“I personally like to think of myself as adark horse,” she joked.
Predictably at this point, Ronnie didn’t laugh. “Forbesrecently published an article about theuncertain futureof Van Dalen Publishing, speculating over when the company would announce new leadership and who that leadership would be. They ranked candidates for the position from most to least likely and included your father, both of your uncles, your cousin, and the company’s current COO, Silas Markham. They even speculated that a merger or acquisition could be in the company’s cards. You, however, were not named. Thoughts?”
“Like I said,dark horse.” Gemma raised her glass, burning away the resentment rising in her chest with a sip of her old-fashioned. “But we aren’t here to discuss that, are we?” She smiled tightly at Tansy before turning back to Ronnie. “I thought you said you wrote for the lifestyle section?”
“I do. What do you have to say to those who considered you not only an unlikely candidate, but perhaps an unworthy one?”
