A Very Exclusive Engagement

by Andrea Laurence

  Only it wasn’t.

  Her persistent stomachache had kept her from eating too much at breakfast or lunch. She had a plate of fruit and crackers beside her that she would pick at from time to time, but it just made the feeling worse.

  Not even a saltine cracker could cure the ache of impending doom. This wedding was a mistake. She knew it. But the part of her that loved Liam and cared for ANS and its employees was overpowering her common sense.

  She took one last look at herself in the mirror and inhaled a deep breath to pull herself together. Now was not the time to fall apart. Not while her parents’ concerned eyes were watching her.

  Since her father had come in, he’d been sitting in the corner, scowling in his tuxedo. Honestly, he’d had the same look on his face since she had met them at the hotel the day before. There had been a moment when he first saw her in her gown that his expression had softened and tears came to his eyes, but it hadn’t lasted long.

  Francesca was pretty sure her own wary appearance hadn’t helped. But there was nothing she could do about it. She had to save her smiles and energy for the wedding and reception.

  “Are you okay, bella?” her mother asked. She was a tinier version of Francesca, with the same dark eyes and warm brown skin. Her thick, brown hair was pulled back into a bun, with elegant streaks of gray running through it like professionally added highlights. She was wearing a shimmering gray dress with a jacket. Ariella had pinned a pink and white rose corsage to her lapel earlier. Her father had one very similar on his tuxedo.

  Francesca nodded and stood, straightening her gown. She’d hoped for and found a white, strapless gown; there had been many to choose from because that style was in fashion. This one had a lace overlay that went to the floor and was delicately embroidered in a pattern with silver beads, crystals and pearls down to the chapel train. What she liked best about it was the silver sash around her waist with a crystal embellishment in the center. It accented her hourglass figure and gave the dress a little something special.

  “Why do you ask?” Francesca asked innocently.

  “You just don’t look as happy as I was expecting. Where is my beautiful, blushing bride?” Her mother reached up to gently caress her face.

  She stopped fidgeting with the dress and smiled, gripping her mother’s hand reassuringly. “Yes, Mama, I am fine. I’m just a little nervous.”

  “You should be, marrying a man you hardly know,” her father snarled from the corner.

  “Victor!” her mother scolded over her shoulder. “We discussed this. We did the same thing, didn’t we? And aren’t you happy thirty years later?”

  He shrugged and slumped into his chair. This was one argument he would lose, and he knew it. But he didn’t have to like it. Francesca could easily see where she got her own stubborn streak and fiery temper.

  “Mama, could you give me that small hand mirror so I can see the back?”

  Donatella handed her the silver mirror and Francesca held it so she could make sure everything looked okay. Satisfied, she laid it on the edge of the dresser, but it tipped with the heavy weight of the handle and fell to the floor with a crash.

  “Oh, no,” Francesca lamented, crouching down to pick up the shattered hand mirror. There were only a few slivers of the reflective surface left, the rest scattered on the floor. Slumping into her chair, she looked at the broken glass and shook her head. “Seven years bad luck,” she said. “As though I needed another sign.”

  “Nonsense,” her mother chided. “Your nonna filled your head with silliness when you were a child. This means nothing aside from having to sweep up and buy a new mirror. Your marriage will be whatever you make it. And if you believe in your heart that it is doomed before it starts, you’ll be right. You must fill your heart and soul with joy, not fear, as you walk down that aisle, bella.”

  Francesca hoped her mother was right. She should ignore the signs and try to make the most of her year with Liam. It was all she was going to get so she shouldn’t spend the precious time she had moping about losing him.

  A gentle rap sounded at the door and Ariella stuck her head in. “Mrs. Orr, it’s time for you to be seated. I’ll be back for the bride and her father in just a moment.” She gave Francesca a quick wink of encouragement as they slipped out of the room.

  Now was the moment Francesca was dreading the most. Five minutes alone with her father without her mother to be the buffer. Hopefully she could distract him with idle conversation until Ariella returned.

  “How do I look, Daddy?”

  The large Irishman crossed his arms over his chest and admired her for a moment before he spoke. “Like the saddest, most beautiful bride I have ever seen.”

  Francesca frowned at him. How could he see into her so well? “I’m smiling. Why do you think I’m sad?”

  “There’s something in your eyes. Something isn’t quite right about all this—I can tell.”

  “Don’t be silly, Daddy.”

  Victor stood up and walked over to her. He helped Francesca up from her seat and held her hand tightly. “Look me in the eye and tell me that you love him.”

  Francesca fixed her gaze on her father. If she really wanted to back out of this wedding, this was her chance. All she had to do was say the word and he would have her on a plane to California before Aunt Beatrice knew what hit her. But she couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t.

  She had to answer him honestly, or he would know. He sensed a problem, but he was barking up the wrong tree. If he wanted the truth of the matter, he should be asking Liam these questions. Without blinking, she spoke sincere words to him. “Yes, I love Liam. Very much.”

  “And you want to marry him?”

  She did. It was fast, but she had fallen hard for her fiancé. Her trepidation was in knowing that no matter how she felt about him, their marriage would be over this time next year. How could she walk down the aisle knowing their wedding was a pointless exercise? Yes, it would save ANS and make a dying woman happy, but Francesca herself would be crushed in the process.

  “Yes, Daddy. I want to marry Liam.”

  His gaze moved over her face, looking for a thread to pull at to unravel the truth, but there was nothing to find.

  Another knock at the door came and Ariella stepped in holding Francesca’s bouquet.

  “It’s beautiful,” Francesca said as she took the flowers and admired them. There were pink and white roses, white hydrangeas and tiny white stephanotis. She’d given Ariella very little direction on this wedding, but with the bouquet, at least, she’d hit the nail on the head. Everything else would likely be just as perfect.

  “Did you expect anything less?” she said with a smile. “It’s time.”

  Francesca’s father took her by the arm and led them down the hallway to the terrace. When she got the cue, Ariella opened the doors. They stepped onto the balcony to the sound of music from a string quartet. A hundred people stood up from their seats and turned to look Francesca’s way as they kicked through rose petals down the aisle.

  She was almost halfway down the aisle when she finally got the nerve to look at Liam.

  Francesca had avoided it because she didn’t want to see the truth in his eyes. He would likely look nervous. Maybe even fearful for what he’d gotten himself into. There would be no tears of love and joy. He would not be beaming with pride after seeing the woman he adored looking more beautiful than ever before. She knew she would be disappointed. But she looked anyway.

  When her gaze met his, she felt her stomach do a flip. He looked so incredibly handsome. She’d seen him in a tuxedo before, but there was something different about the way he looked tonight. It was the expression on his face. There wasn’t love there, but she did see admiration. Unmasked attraction. Deep respect. He knew how big a sacrifice she was making for him and he appreciated it. He just didn’t love her for it. Not the way she loved him.

  Francesca had to remind herself to smile and not get lost in her thoughts as they took the last few steps to the c
eremony platform.

  The minister began the ceremony, and her father leaned in to kiss her before handing her over to Liam for good. She couldn’t meet his eyes then. If he saw the panic and fear there, he’d drag her down the aisle while everyone watched in horror. Instead, she closed her eyes and leaned in to his kiss.

  “I love you, Daddy.”

  “I love you, too.”

  At that, he put her hand in Liam’s and they stepped up together to be married.

  Francesca thought she would be okay until she had to take that first step and her knees turned soft. It was only Liam’s firm, reassuring grasp that kept her upright. He guided her to the minister, her hand clasped tightly in his.

  “I won’t let you fall. We can do this,” he whispered with a smile and a wink.

  She nodded and squeezed his hand.

  The ceremony began, but it was a blur to her. The minister spoke, she repeated her vows, they exchanged rings and the next thing she knew, she was kissing her husband in front of a hundred people.

  The roar of applause and the cheers were like a slap in the face, snapping her back into reality. The minister presented them as Mr. and Mrs. Liam Crowe as they turned to the audience. She clung to Liam’s arm as they walked back down the aisle together as husband and wife.

  When they rounded the corner to exit the terrace, Ariella was waiting for them. She escorted them back to the bridal room to wait for pictures while the guests made their way to the ballroom for cocktails.

  Francesca rested her bouquet on the dressing table beside the broken mirror and slumped into her chair.

  It was done. They were married.

  They still had to sign the official paperwork for the license, but that would arrive any second now.

  She almost couldn’t believe it. She felt numb, like she was walking through a dream wedding instead of one in real life. It had been a beautiful ceremony, but it wasn’t how she imagined her wedding day would be. No matter how many different ways she had pictured her big day, there was always a common element.

  She looked over at Liam. He eyed the champagne glasses for a moment before crossing the room to pick them up. He handed one to her and held out his own for a toast.

  “One day of marriage done. Three hundred and sixty-four to go.”

  With a sigh, she took a deep draw from her champagne flute and closed her eyes before the tears threatened to spill over.

  One critical thing was missing from her fantasy wedding: a man who loved and adored her more than anything else on earth. And that was the one thing Scarlet and Ariella hadn’t been able to provide.

  Twelve

  Liam was worried about Francesca. As she’d walked down the aisle toward him, she was literally the most beautiful bride he’d ever seen. The white gown was quite flattering against the warm color of her skin and it fit her curves like a glove.

  For a moment, it had all become a little too real. His breath had caught in his throat. His mouth had gone bone-dry. His heart had raced a thousand miles an hour in his chest. Francesca was about to be his wife. And in that instant, he’d wanted her to be in every sense of the word.

  It was a strange feeling. One he hadn’t experienced before. He’d been fond of a lot of women over the years. He genuinely liked and respected Francesca. That was probably as close to “love” as he’d ever gotten. Marriage hadn’t crossed his mind yet. He assumed he would get to that point in his life eventually. The Queen Bee had just accelerated his schedule.

  Liam wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or the music. The way she looked in that dress or the happy tears of his mother. But he was committed to the moment. He was excited to marry Francesca. Maybe this year wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe…maybe there could be more than just a business arrangement between them. A real relationship.

  He was snapped back to reality by the stony expression on Francesca’s face. There was no happy, bridal glow. No tears of joy. No smile of excitement. She didn’t look outright unhappy; she was covering it well, but Liam knew she was on the edge. The reality of lying to all their friends and family must be weighing heavily on her. He understood. That was why he’d given her the option not to go through with the marriage. But she’d insisted. She wasn’t the type of woman to go back on her word. She would choke it down and do what had to be done.

  Since they’d left the bridal suite, she’d become like a robot. She smiled, she went through the motions, but her dark eyes were dead. He wasn’t sure what would happen when she couldn’t hold in her emotions any longer. But he knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

  Fortunately, they were able to lose themselves in the smiles, handshakes and hugs of the receiving line. After that, the reception should be fairly short. With little notice, Scarlet and Ariella had only been able to arrange a catered hors d’oeuvres and cocktail reception. No band or dancing, no five-course sit-down dinner. Just an hour or so of mingling and cake, and then everyone would be on their way. It should be fairly simple to get through it without drama.

  The last few guests came through the line and Liam and Francesca were able to leave their stations. He put his arm around her waist and leaned into her. “Are you okay?” he whispered.

  Her wary eyes looked to him and she nodded. “I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

  “Do you want me to get you a drink?”

  “Yes,” she said with emphasis. “Please.”

  Liam left her side to get them both something from the bar. He was returning with a glass in both hands when he caught an unwelcome sight out of the corner of his eye. Hayden Black and Angelica Pierce were chatting. No, that wasn’t the right word. They were having a discussion that verged on heated, if Angelica’s stiff posture and tight mouth were any indication. What was she thinking, having a conversation with the investigator out to prove she was guilty? This couldn’t be good.

  As far as Liam knew, Angelica hadn’t been called to testify before the congressional committee about the hacking scandal. He assumed it was because Hayden hadn’t been able to piece together the details of her involvement. Or at least, to prove it. The suspicion of her guilt was nothing Liam could act on. He needed hard evidence to fire her, and if Angelica was involved, she had been very, very careful. She wasn’t stupid. She was a ruthless, cunning reporter willing to do nearly anything to get the big story. He appreciated her ambition. But not her moral code.

  Secretly, he hoped Hayden would find what he needed. Liam was nervous running ANS with Angelica still in his employ. He needed a reason to cut her loose permanently.

  Their discussion was getting a little more animated. Liam searched the room for Ariella and Scarlet, but he didn’t see them or the security they’d hired. He might have to intervene on this situation himself. Francesca’s drink would have to wait.

  As Liam got closer to them, he could hear what they were saying a little better. They were trying to speak quietly, but their passions were getting the best of them. At least, Angelica’s were. Hayden was always very calm and collected.

  “I find it laughable that people seem to think you were behind this whole thing,” Hayden said. “As though the peroxide-bleached brain cells you have left could plan something more intricate than what kind of shoes to wear with what outfit.”

  A flush of anger rose to Angelica’s cheeks. Her eyes narrowed at Hayden. She didn’t notice Liam approaching them because she was so focused on their argument. “You think you’re so smart, Hayden, but I’m not going to fall for your tricks. Is calling me a dumb blonde the best you’ve got? I expected better of you. All men see is what women want them to see. The hair and the makeup and the clothes blind you to the truth. But don’t let appearances fool you. We may have the same hair color, but I’m not sweet and pliable like your precious Lucy. I earned my place at the company. It wasn’t because my stepfather owned the network.”

  Liam expected Hayden to take offense at the insults Angelica was levying at his fiancée, but it didn’t seem to faze him. “Yes,” he agreed, “but Lucy has something you�
�ll never have no matter how hard you work or how many people you trample.”

  Angelica nearly snorted with contempt. “And what’s that? The love of a man like you?”

  “Nope. Her daddy’s undying affection. She’s the beautiful little girl he always wanted. The one he raised as his own. He bought her ponies and went to her ballet recitals. He got her a convertible on her sixteenth birthday. I bet it breaks his heart that he’ll be in jail and can’t walk Lucy down the aisle when we get married.”

  Angelica stiffened beside him, but she brushed off his words with a shrug of indifference. “So what? Her stepfather spoiled her. Am I supposed to be jealous of her for that?”

  “No. But you might be jealous because he didn’t have to bribe people to keep Lucy a secret. He wasn’t embarrassed of her.”

  “I don’t know what you’re insinuating,” she said slowly, although the tone of her voice said otherwise. It was cold and flat, issuing a silent warning to Hayden.

  It made Liam wonder what they were really talking about. He’d heard that Lucy and Angelica hadn’t gotten along, but Lucy had left ANS to work with Hayden before he took over. He certainly didn’t know anything about Angelica’s past or her family. Why did Lucy’s relationship with Graham make Angelica so angry?

  Hayden really seemed to know how to push her buttons. Was he rattling her cage for amusement or was he trying to get her to make a mistake? Liam turned to his left and spied the wedding videographer, a field cameraman from ANS. Perfect. He waived the man over.

  “I want you to very quietly, subtly, record their conversation. She can’t know you’re taping them.”

  The camera man worked on ANS investigations and undercover stings, so he was likely more comfortable doing this than taping greetings for the bride and groom. He eased into the crowd, coming up from behind Angelica, partially hidden by the towering wedding cake beside them.