However, he didn’t seem to notice her concerns over the use of his first name. “What have you trained in, dear girl? What kind of career have you made for yourself?”
“I was working for Carmond & Proctor until a few days ago.” Was it really only a few days ago? It felt like another lifetime now.
“Carmond & Proctor? The advertising agency? Very good.” He tugged thoughtfully at his beard. “We might have to put you in charge of some of our future marketing roll outs for the Casino.”
“Uh, no, I wasn’t working there in the role of a marketer.” She hurriedly corrected his thinking, embarrassed that she hadn’t explained herself properly. “My job was more secretarial than creative.”
“PA to the CEO?” Martha enquired.
Arial laughed but she hastily shut it down when she saw that Martha was serious. “No, ma’am. I worked in the general typing pool. I was responsible for typing reports and memos for the management team.”
Martha looked as if she’d just swallowed a bug but Terence didn’t appear too fazed by her confession. “Nothing wrong with a woman taking a more traditional role in business. Should be more of it. Everyone knows that women don’t have the right temperament for the rigors of the boardroom.”
Arial’s palms were damp. She surreptitiously wiped them on the sides of her thighs before looking up and catching Carson’s eye. He dropped his eyelid in a wink and she grinned back. This wasn’t too bad. Terence and Martha were nice enough even if they were a bit stiff and old-fashioned. She would get used to them over time. Anyway, once she was married her focus would be on husband rather than on her in-laws. She was marrying Carson, not taking on the DuMonde family as a package deal.
Martha started talking to her then about her trip to France while the men went to stand by the window with their drinks. Arial had opted for coffee and Martha was drinking sparkling water, murmuring something about fasting before the wedding. Carson and Terence were talking quietly, too softly for Arial to hear what was being said, and she tried to concentrate on Martha’s conversation instead. Martha seemed to think that Arial knew the names of all the people she was talking about and Arial fixed a smile on her face and attempted to nod in all the right places. In just another hour or so, she could leave here having successfully crossed another major pre-wedding milestone off the list.
As Martha paused in her story to sip her drink, Arial leaned across to the coffee table to select a tiny pastry topped with an olive. As she brought it up to her mouth, the olive rolled off and fell onto the chair cushion. Arial quickly grabbed it before Martha saw and stuffed the errant object into the pocket of her dress, not wanting to draw attention to her clumsiness. Martha remained oblivious as she sailed back into her description of her favorite Parisian fabric store.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Carson
He was proud of her when she walked into the sitting room, holding herself up with grace and dignity and looking like a seventeen-year-old boy’s wet dream in that blue dress. Terence could be daunting at the best of times and he’d been in a foul mood for most of the morning. He’d softened somewhat when Martha finally emerged from her room after catching up on her sleep following her flying visit to France, but he was still cranky and quick to jump into an argument without the slightest provocation. It was a little unfortunate that his first glimpse of Arial had been through the windows of the sitting room where they’d all watched as Arial climbed awkwardly out of the car with her dress up around her ears and her panties on full display, but Terence certainly hadn’t complained about the view. Martha had tutted and muttered that she could see she had some work to do with the future Mrs. DuMonde but she’d sounded pleased about it. Martha had always enjoyed throwing herself into a project.
Martha and Arial were now having girlie chat about Martha’s visit to Paris. Terence indicated with a nod of his head that he wanted to talk out of earshot of the ladies and Carson took his drink and went over to join her by the window.
“She seems very young and unworldly.”
“I thought that was your criteria – you clearly stated that you wanted me to marry a virgin.”
“Yes, of course. I guess it gives Martha some raw material to work with.” Terence stroked his beard and looked over at Arial again. “Does she realize that she’s marrying into a package deal?”
“Yeah, yeah, she knows all that.” Carson had no idea whether she knew it or not. It wasn’t something they’d discussed. Anyway, it didn’t matter. The marriage wasn’t going to be forever.
“Matthew told me there was an incident at the restaurant last night.”
Carson looked sharply at his father. How much had that little weasel said? Had he seen his fight with Arial? “An incident?”
“Yes, apparently there was a small commotion by the elevators. Carson, I do hope you’ve chosen a mentally stable woman for your wife.”
Carson gave a humorless laugh. “She’ll fit right in with Matthew if she isn’t mentally stable. That guy is an idiot.”
Terence flattened his lips. “He told me she stomped on your foot in full view of the restaurant and you had to restrain her.”
“Have you employed Matthew as your spy now? Look, it was small understanding. Does she look unstable?”
Both men turned to see Arial pick up an olive from the seat cushion and for some unknown reason, stuff it into her dress pocket. Terence tapped his fingernails on the side of his glass. “She is exhibiting signs of unusual behavior. Has she done anything odd in the past?”
“Define odd,” Carson said lightly. Why had she done that? Wouldn’t a normal person discretely place the olive back on the plate if she didn’t like it, rather than rolling it around on the expensive fabric of the armchair before hiding it in her dress?
“She’s pretty though. Very pretty.”
“She’s certainly a looker.”
“Have you advised her of our expectations in regards to her wedding dress?”
This was news to Carson. He hadn’t realized there were any expectations around a wedding dress. “Uh… what expectations are we talking about now?”
“No cleavage, no tight fabric around the ass or stomach area, and definitely no color other than white,” Terence recited.
All the things on that do-not list sounded perfect to Carson. A hot chick in a red dress with her tits hanging out and her ass on show would grab his attention every time. In fact, it sounded like an exact description of Gabriella. However, this was a DuMonde wedding and he supposed they needed to keep up appearances. He considered his words carefully before responding. “Does Martha know about these guidelines? I’m sure she’ll pass them onto Arial, as any good mother-in-law would do. Arial doesn’t have a mother to offer her advice on such an important occasion.”
Both men turned in unison to look at Arial again. She was sitting primly now, with her hands in her lap, as she hung onto every word that Martha said. Carson felt another swell of pride. Despite Terence’s misgivings, he knew he’d done well in his selection of a bride.
“I’ll leave the trivia to Martha,” Terence said, signaling that he was bored with the entire discussion. He tipped the remainder of his drink down his throat and turned to look out the window. “The roses are holding up well. Hopefully the gardens at the hill mansion will look good for the media photos.”
“I’m sure the gardeners will take care of it. I have absolute faith in their abilities.” Carson was now just as bored as his father sounded with the entire topic of the wedding. He was also tired after his big night out last night with Maribelle, Trixie, and Jordana. The night had ended badly when Maribelle, overcome by the excitement and too much alcohol, had fainted for a few seconds in the middle of the boulevard. Trixie and Jordana, shocked to see their friend lying unconscious on the dirty pavement, had refused to accompany him to the suite at the Casino where he’d hoped the fun would continue with all three women serving as his willing accomplices. Instead, he’d handed the trio across to his driver and sadly watc
hed as they departed for their own homes.
Terence turned around without warning, taking Carson by surprise. “And what about Matthew? I hear he will be walking the young lady down the aisle. I trust the two of you will behave maturely on the day, as is expected of a Dumonde.”
There were those damned expectations again. “I can’t believe she asked him to play the role as a stand-in for her father. In fact, I’m bloody annoyed. She should have noticed that we don’t get on.”
“Matthew said she invited him to join you for a drink at your table.”
“Against my wishes.”
Terence smiled his second smile of the day. “Well, well. You might finally have bitten off more than you can chew. Happens to the best of us.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.” Carson went to get himself another drink without asking his father if he’d like a top up.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Arial
Bethany was late but Clarice was here. She’d already taken several posed photos of Arial for the Instagram account: the bride standing in front of a rack of plastic-covered bridal gowns with a glass of champagne in her hand; the bride bending to smell the flowers in the gorgeous arrangement of white roses and lilies on the desk; and the bride standing with her arm around Joanne, the beaming bridal shop owner.
“Do you want another glass of champagne, Arial?” Over-eager Joanne already had the bottle at the ready but Arial hastily set her glass down on the reception desk, out of Joanne’s reach.
“No, thanks. I don’t usually drink at 10.30 in the morning and it’s already gone straight to my head.”
“Good practice for your big day. Most brides start the day of the wedding with a fizzy tipple. Do you want to begin looking through the dresses while we wait for your friend?”
“Uh… sure. Why not.”
Arial sent Clarice away, although she had to state her request firmly before the girl took any notice. “Clarice, I don’t want the entire world to see my dress before Carson does. You have a couple of photos to work with and you’ll have to make do with those.”
Joanne was hanging the first dress Arial had chosen, a floaty Empire line that reminded her of a Grecian princess, in the fitting room when Bethany breathlessly burst through the door. “I’m sorry I’m late! Nico wouldn’t settle and I didn’t want to leave him while he was screaming.”
“You’ve just in time. I’m about to try on the first dress.” Arial pointed to the Empire line and Bethany immediately pulled a face.
“No, Arial. Not that one. You have a gorgeous figure and you need to show it off.”
“The Empire style is flattering for all figures,” Joanne put in haughtily.
“That’s lovely, but Arial doesn’t need to hide her body beneath swathes of cloth. Is that the only one you like, Arial? We could go somewhere else if there’s nothing suitable here.”
For some reason, Joanne and Bethany had taken an instant dislike to each other. Bethany did this sometimes and often with little warning. She would suddenly decide that a new person wasn’t her cup of tea and from then on she would give them the cold shoulder. It seemed that Joanne, now sour-faced and glaring at Bethany, was created from the same mold.
Arial gave Joanne a conciliatory smile. “We’ll just pop back to the racks and have another browse through the gowns on display. Keep the Empire line to one side and I’ll have another think about it.” She looped her arm through Bethany’s and forcibly marched her friend across to the racks on the other side of the room. “Can you pretend to like her? Please? We need to get your dress organized today too and it’s going to be difficult if the two of you are spitting tacks at each other.”
“Have you lost weight?” Bethany ignored Arial’s comments as she squinted her eyes suspiciously at Arial’s body.
“I think it’s the new clothes. It’s amazing how wearing different clothes can make you look so different.”
“Nope, you’ve definitely lost weight. I’m not surprised. I can’t think of anything more stressful than doing what you’re doing.” Bethany gave a dramatic shudder that shook her entire body. She was a short girl with a mane of blonde hair and expressive green eyes. She and Nico were alone after her baby daddy decided he wasn’t ready to be a father but she swore she was happier that way.
“I think having a baby would be far more stressful than planning a wedding.” Arial pulled out a mermaid dress with a subtle spray of sequins on the bodice. “What about something like this?”
“You need to look like a movie star. It has to be tight and hot.” Bethany grabbed lustfully for a tight sheath gown.
Arial shook her head. “Martha has given me a list of guidelines. It can’t be too tight or too gaudy. A DuMonde lady shows class and refinement in everything she does.” She repeated Martha’s instructions word for word.
“Martha? Your new Mom-in-law? What’s she like? She always looks so glamorous in her photos.”
“She’s glamorous in real life too. A bit scary but perhaps she’ll warm to me over time. I don’t intend to live in her pocket anyway.” Arial selected a ball gown covered in elaborate flounces. “What about this?”
“Hmmm, maybe. I’d have to see it on. All those ruffles might drown you.”
“Carson’s cousin Matthew is walking me down the aisle. Their relationship is jittery and I thought it might help to smooth things over if Matthew is a part of the wedding party.”
Bethany contorted her face into a grimace. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? There will be so much else going on. You don’t need any simmering family tensions flaring up.” She stopped to consider Arial for a few moments. “Why is Carson in such a hurry to get married? You told me you both have your reasons but, and you know I mean no disrespect to you by saying this, why would he want to marry you after knowing you for only five minutes?”
Arial glanced over her shoulder but Joanne was on the phone now and couldn’t overhear their conversation. “His father ordered him to marry a virgin,” she hissed. “I think we’re a little thin on the ground.”
Bethany’s already large eyes were now huge in her face. “His father said that? Ewww, that’s really creepy.”
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be creepy. The family believe that a virginal woman will be easier to mold and shape into an ideal DuMonde lady.” She still wasn’t sure how she felt about this. She was happy with who she was and she didn’t like the idea of becoming a Martha clone.
Bethany doubled over with laughter, drawing another frown from Joanne. “Hasn’t he come up against your obstinate side yet?”
“Look, I know that virginal stuff is a load of crock but Carson is ready for marriage and the offer that he made suits me.”
Bethany was serious again now. “What was the offer?”
“Um, I can’t remember it exactly. I’ll show you the contract once we’ve found our dresses. So, do you think the ball gown is worth a look? I probably do need to try it on.”
“What contract? Please don’t tell me you signed a freaking marriage contract. Arial, that’s archaic. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”
Arial hated that Bethany was focusing on all the parts that concerned her too. “A contract is necessary to protect the DuMonde fortune. It’s fairly standard nowadays for couples to sign a pre-nup so I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss.” Was she reassuring Bethany or was she reassuring herself?
Bethany didn’t look convinced. “I really, really hope you know what you’re doing.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Carson
They were late for their appointment with the tailor for their suit fitting. Michael had insisted on staying to watch the lap dancers at The Gentlemen’s Retreat, an upmarket hooker bar, and who was Carson to deny a man his simple pleasures?
They were both tipsy but not drunk by the time they arrived at the tailors an hour after their 8 pm appointment. Bryan, a man with exquisite taste in men’s clothes and long, thin fingers that could spin magic with
a needle and thread, pursed his lips but said nothing as Michael stumbled and crashed into a display of shirts.
“Ooops. Sorry about that, Bryan. He’s overexcited. It’s not every day that his best friend gets married.” Carson yanked Michael upright as Bryan tutted and stooped to collect the fallen shirts from the floor. “Get a grip,” he whispered loudly in his friend’s ear. “Try and see this as a practice run for next Saturday. Mom has already commented on your behavior in public.”
“What’s wrong with my behavior in public? And why should Martha care? She’ll be too busy preening for the cameras and playing up her role as mother of the groom to the hilt to bother looking at me.”
“Just don’t call attention to yourself like you did at that last event. She’s still talking about it.”
“I was only having a bit of fun.” Michael brushed Carson’s hand off his arm. He was a large-framed man, built like a person who would make short work of a day in the fields, but Michael had been born into a life of privilege and most varieties of work in the traditional sense were a foreign concept to him. The Cavanaars had made their money in diamonds and Michael seemed to think his role in life was spending the family fortune and collecting notches on his bedpost, which made him the perfect companion for Carson. Well, he had been the perfect companion up until Carson’s life took this latest dramatic turn. Right now, Carson needed a best man who he could rely on and one who wouldn’t show him up on his wedding day.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I can ask Jack to stand up beside me if you’d rather be on the guest list than in the wedding party itself.”
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