Page 44 of The Temporary Fiancée
Robert sizes me up. “Eastwood, right?” He reaches out his hand to shake mine. “You were a lot younger last time I saw you.”
“Olivia,” Maura says, her voice timid and quiet, “what’s going on here?”
“I have to tell you guys something,” Olivia says hesitantly. She reaches out and takes my hand, and both of her parents raise their eyebrows. “Can we come inside?”
Wordlessly, Maura and Robert make room for us to step through the door. Olivia’s father ushers us into the small, homey living room.
“Make yourselves comfortable,” he says. “I’ll be out with drinks in a minute.” He helps Maura to a huge armchair, which dwarfs her frail body and makes her seem even smaller, then goes to the kitchen.
While he’s in the other room, I glance around at the Quinns’ household. It’s a far cry from what I’m accustomed to, but it’s nice. Cozy.
The couches are old, but there are hand-knitted, woolen blankets draped over the backs. There’s a fireplace, and on the mantelpiece, I can see half a dozen framed photos of Olivia at various ages. I can’t help but smile at the pictures of her as a child.
“These blankets are nice,” I say, trying to make friendly conversation.
Maura smiles. “Olivia made them for us.”
I turn to stare at Olivia. “You did?”
“Yeah,” she says. She elbows me. “You know that I knit!”
I’d noticed it, of course. She spends a lot of time around the penthouse knitting, and I’ve seen a couple of her finished scarves. “These are huge, though,” I say.
“They took forever,” she agrees with a small, nervous chuckle.
As Mr. Quinn re-emerges from the kitchen and starts handing out mugs of hot tea, I feel a slight pressure against my leg. I glance down to see a cream-colored cat winding its way between my calves, purring.
“That’s Penelope,” Maura tells me. “She’s friendly.”
I reach down to pet the cat, and she headbutts my hand, closing her eyes in contentment.
Yeah, I could hang out here for a while. It’s like the whole room is designed to put people at ease.
“So,” says Olivia’s father, sitting down opposite his wife and turning to us, “I believe you had something to tell us.”
“Yes.” Olivia lays a hand on mine, scooting a little closer to me on the couch. “Reed and I reconnected a while ago. We had some mutual friends who got together—you know Riley, right?”
Both of her parents nod, and Olivia exhales in relief.
“Riley is engaged to one of Reed’s childhood best friends,” she says. “So Reed and I crossed paths again, and… well…”
She glances at me, uncertainty in her eyes, so I jump in. “We started to get close.”
Gratefully, Olivia nods. “Yes. Very close. We, um… we’re engaged. To be married.”
There it is—the bombshell that we were both afraid of. Neither of Olivia’s parents reacts horribly, but I can tell that both of them are shocked. They exchange a wide-eyed glance, their surprise evident on their faces.
Quickly, Olivia leaps into action to sell it. “It took both of us by surprise, too,” she says, leaning into me. I wrap an armaround her shoulders. “But we know it’s right. We’re in love with each other, and we don’t want to wait for years to get married.”
I nod, smiling, and rub Olivia’s arm affectionately. The action feels natural.
“And you know Reed,” Olivia continues. “He’s a good man. One of the best. Did you know that he’s on the board for three charities? And he’s constantly donating money to good causes.”
I’m taken aback by how sincere Olivia sounds as she continues to explain our engagement. If I didn’t know it was all a lie, I could almost believe every word.
For around a minute, it’s quiet in the living room. The only sound is the ticking of the old clock on the mantelpiece, surrounded by the pictures of Olivia.
Then Maura seems to recover from her shock, and smiles at us warmly. “Well, that’s the most wonderful news I’ve heard in months.”
