Twisted Arrangement 3

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Twisted Arrangement 3 Page 7

by Mora Early


  He pulled her toward the patio doors, snickering under his breath. Emma let him lead her, her back stiff. She wasn’t entirely sure what had just happened, but she did know she didn’t like it one bit.

  ***

  Josh felt some of the tension ease from between his shoulder blades as Emma and Todd returned from the patio. Emma’s face was still a little pale and pinched around the eyes, but Todd was smiling and had his arm looped around his sister’s neck as he dragged her back into the room.

  “Sorry about that, folks. Sibling stuff, you know how it is. ‘You broke my Grand Moff Tarkin figurine’, ‘Dad would be ashamed of you’, etc.” He shrugged, one side of his mouth curved upward. “We’re over it. Right, Ems?”

  She narrowed her eyes at Todd. Josh thought it might be a good time to intervene, before Emma accidentally eviscerated her brother and he had to comfort her all over again once she realized what she’d done. He cleared his throat. “You broke his Grand Moff Tarkin figurine?”

  Todd released Emma and took the remaining seat beside Josh with a snort. He relaxed back into it, hooking a leg over the arm.

  “No, I broke hers. Ems had a huge crush on Peter Cushing. She cried for like three days.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “He’s exaggerating. As usual.” She seemed to realize they were all staring at her, and flushed slightly. Then Josh watched with silent amazement as a series of emotions washed across her face. The small muscles around her eyes tightened with determination, her jaw set at a stubborn angle for a split second, before her whole face softened.

  She moved to Josh’s side and brushed her hand lightly over the hair at the back of his head. Her sweet, slightly chagrined smile, however, was entirely for his parents. “I am sorry that this is how we ended up meeting. I’ve been looking forward to it, and now you must think your son is marrying a harpy.”

  “Nonsense.” His mother waved a hand as she perused the platter of crab cakes. “Pre-wedding jitters. Perfectly understandable. Ask Cam how many times I broke up with him in the week before we tied the knot.”

  “Seven,” Cam answered quickly, grinning. He raised a challenging brow at William Ransler, who still sat stiff and silent in his chair off to the side of their grouping. “How about you, William? Mrs. Ransler give you fits before you got her down the aisle?”

  William rolled his broad shoulders. “She locked me out of the house at least four times because I didn’t understand the importance of the flower arrangements,” he admitted, staring down at his shoes, his jaw tense. Emma actually laughed at that. Josh joined her, but the sound tapered quickly off when she reached down and took his hand.

  “Lucky for me, Josh has been excellent about being involved with the planning. I was sure he would want to leave it all up to me, but between him and Clarice, I’ve hardly needed to do anything but wait.” She squeezed his fingers.

  Josh wanted to study her face. She’d been anxious and jumpy in his presence ever since the press conference, barely able to pretend she could stand him. Well, unless she was kissing him back with a bone-melting sweetness. Whatever talk she’d had with her brother out on the patio seemed to have worked wonders on her resolve to play the part of besotted bride. He’d have to thank Todd later.

  “I didn’t want you to have to plan everything,” he replied. And it was true. It had occurred to Josh that asking her to handle all the details of a wedding she wasn’t voluntarily agreeing to could end disastrously. “You do enough of that at work. This is your wedding. I want you to enjoy it.”

  Josh felt a slight pang in his gut as he spoke the words. All this lying was getting to him. But then Emma turned her sweet smile on him, her green eyes warm as she squeezed his hand. It was a brief moment before she swung her gaze to Ransler.

  “William, Kara says you think Josh is paying me to marry him. Is that true?”

  Ransler shifted in his chair, cracking the knuckles of his right hand. “Look, I can’t help but think it’s awful convenient that as soon as I voice my concern about his womanizing ways, he’s got a fiancé and a wedding ready to go before filming starts.” He shot a scowl at Josh. “How would you like it if you felt like you were getting played, Owens?”

  Josh gritted his teeth. He did know how that felt. Emma had played him. But Ransler would get over it, just like he would. Eventually. And this movie was worth whatever he had to go through. It was the best script he’d ever read, and had a lot of important things to say without coming off preachy. He had to see it finished.

  “I’d feel like a chump. And I don’t like feeling like a chump. But I find it completely mind-boggling that you think I would go to all that effort just to convince you to do my movie. Hell, man, these are my parents, not some actors.”

  William’s bright blue gaze slid over Cam and Kara. Kara dusted her hands of crumbs. “Isn’t that what I said? There’s no way he’d call us over here to meet his future wife if it was all some sham.”

  Josh swallowed, finding it easier to meet Ransler’s eyes than his mother’s. “Exactly.”

  “Josh, stop trying to convince him.” Emma twined her fingers through his and shook her head with a smile. “That will only make him more suspicious. He’s going to be at the wedding. He’ll be at the reception. We’ll be seeing him an awful lot while the movie is filming. He’ll have every opportunity to realize our relationship is every bit as real as his and Maisie’s, and he can get over the weird obsession he has with your love life.”

  Ransler bristled, clenching and unclenching his hands, but he didn’t argue. Todd snorted. Josh chuckled. “You’re right as usual, snookums.” He winked, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across her knuckles. Emma giggled.

  “Can I get that in writing? The part about me being right?”

  Yet another side of Emma Ness. The giggling, adoring fiancé. Josh liked it. He just had to remember it was all an act. “Don’t push your luck.” On impulse, he tugged her down into his lap. He didn’t pull hard, but Emma let herself tumble against him with a little squeal.

  “Josh! I’ve made a bad enough impression on your parents as it is.” She blushed and struggled to get up, though not very hard. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tried not to think about how good she felt held against him like this.

  “And you think sitting in my lap makes a bad impression how? I’m pretty sure this kind of thing is allowed amongst almost married couples. Shall we take a poll?”

  Ransler climbed to his feet, back stiff. “I think I’ll just see myself out.”

  “Nonsense, Willie, you have to stay. We’re going to talk details for the big day, and you’re a member of the wedding party now!” Todd’s grin had more teeth than the Cheshire cat’s.

  Josh’s mother nodded. “He’s right, William. You should stay.”

  “Please do sit back down, Mr. Ransler. Join us.” Josh’s dad sounded polite, but there was an edge in his voice. Ransler sighed and dropped back into his seat.

  “I’m convinced, alright? I’ll do the damn movie. Send the paperwork to my agent.”

  Emma’s thighs were draped across Josh’s legs. He had to concentrate very hard to keep his hand on her knee from wandering upward.

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’ll have my lawyer send you the standard contract and we can begin there.”

  “Emma, who are your attendants going to be? I assume Todd is going to give you away.” His mother addressed Emma as if Josh and Ransler hadn’t interrupted her wedding conversation with business talk.

  Emma’s fingers absently played with Josh hair. “I’ve asked Suzanne to be my maid of honor. Or she volunteered and I said yes, even if she is a Bangel shipper.” Emma rolled her eyes. Josh had no idea what she was talking about, but it was adorable. She scrunched up her nose and continued. “I guess if William’s in the wedding now, I could ask Maisie.”

  Kara grinned, clapping her hands. “Perfect. Oh, this is going to be the biggest wedding of the year! All the rags will be dying to cover it!” Emma’s brows qui
rked upward. Josh sighed. When Emma turned her questioning gaze on him, he shook his head.

  “Mom loves the gossip rags.”

  “They’re hilarious! It’s so ridiculous some of the stuff they put in there. Still, you should probably pick one magazine to give an exclusive to.” His mother plucked at her lower lip. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Do we have to?” Emma groaned. “We just did an interview with Mia for the Trib.”

  “Better get used to the media attention, Ems.” Todd stretched his arms over his head, groaning and grinning. “From now on, someone’s always going to be watching you two.”

  Josh frowned at the leading inflection in Todd’s voice. Was he trying to goad Emma into reneging on the deal? “It’s not quite that bad.” Emma lips curved into a smile. Josh almost missed the slight tremor at the corners. She righted it quickly. “Oh well. Just part of the facts of my new life as Mrs. Josh Owens, right?” Her lashes fluttered. “It’s worth it.”

  She bent and brushed a quick kiss across his lips. It was fleeting and soft, but it made Josh’s heart flip all the same. His hands tightened around her waist. He met Emma’s eyes and saw the flare there too, the desire for more.

  His wedding night couldn’t get here quick enough.

  Chapter 6 ~ This is Not Tupperware

  Emma’s cheeks hadn’t stopped burning since she’d arrived. This was supposed to be the final meeting with Clarice to make sure everything was in place for the wedding. That’s what Emma had been planning on.

  But when she’d walked into the conference room, the sand colored walls were festooned with fuchsia and ivory streamers. Crepe wedding bells hung from the ceiling in gently swaying clusters. The decorations weren’t fancy... certainly not anything that any of her clients would have tolerated. But the gesture touched Emma’s heart all the more for that.

  The long, satinwood conference table was covered with plastic champagne flutes, several trays of delicate finger sandwiches, and presents. Heaps of presents. Wrapping paper in hues of cream, silver, pink, and purple gleamed beneath the overhead lights.

  “Oh!” Emma gasped, her hands fluttering to her belly as it leapt in surprise. The room was packed wall to wall with people. Clarice stood in the back, beaming, her silver hair twisted into a neat bun. Dag, Tanya, Shinae, Ursula, Karen... everyone she knew seemed to be crammed into the room, smiling at her, whistling and blowing noisemakers.

  And not just Picture Perfect staff either. Martin, Josh’s assistant, winked at her and raised a glass of champagne. Kara Owens smiled as she licked a frosting covered finger. Maisie Ransler and Eugenie Markham both waved from a spot near the cake. Cake! Tears pricked Emma’s eyes.

  Suzanne elbowed her way through the throng and tucked her arm through Emma’s elbow, pulling her toward the table. “We could hardly let you get married without throwing you a wedding shower. It’s pretty small and last minute but...” She shrugged. “There’s booze, cake, and presents. What more could you ask for?”

  “You guys, really... you shouldn’t have. This is too much.”

  “Please!” Suzanne scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I tried to convince Clarice to get us oysters, but she said no. And there aren’t even gold flakes on the cake. What good is it to marry a sinfully rich man like Josh Owens if you don’t get a gold-flecked cake?”

  “Oh, I can think of a few other reasons.” Martin smirked, the expression odd on his long face. Emma’s cheeks grew hot as several of the gathered throng cheered or sighed at his remark. Kara punched him playfully on the shoulder.

  “That’s my son you’re talking about, Kellar.” Her face broke out in a broad grin. “You’d better be able to think of more than just a few reasons.”

  Emma bit her lip, eyes scanning the crowd for her boss. Clarice stood beside the table, pouring a few inches of champagne into each of the flutes. Unlike the plastic glasses and the crepe decorations, the sparkling wine was not cheap. It was a nice bottle of Moët, condensation sparkling on the dark glass.

  “Clarice, this was your idea?” Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew her employer was enthusiastic about getting to plan what no fewer than four different people had now informed Emma was going to be ‘the wedding of the year’, but this little gathering felt much more personal than business.

  “In all the rush, I didn’t want you to forget that this is supposed to be fun. Think of this as sort of a combination bachelorette party and wedding shower.” Clarice handed Emma a glass of champagne. “I know I don’t say it a lot, or at all probably, but you’re very important to us here, Emma. We’re going to miss you over the next few months!”

  “Thank you, everyone. This is... so wonderful. And completely overwhelming.” Emma sniffled a little, raising her glass to her mouth to cover the trembling of her lips. She’d known she was respected among her co-workers. She did her job well and didn’t treat anyone badly. But this outpouring of genuine affection was something else entirely.

  “Do we do cake first, or presents? It’s been so long I don’t remember.” Maisie laid one long-fingered hand on Emma’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “I vote cake!” That was Marla, biting her lip as she gazed longingly at the iced confection. Emma really looked at it for the first time. It was heart shaped and frosted in bright pink icing, but in the center was a picture of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in a clinch, lips about to touch.

  She instantly recalled Josh’s words, that while this charade went on, they were going to be ‘the happiest couple since Bogey and Bacall’. Her eyes flew to Martin’s.

  “Did Josh...?” She gestured at the cake. Martin nodded, grinning. Clarice pressed a hand to her bony chest.

  “When I told him what we had planned, he insisted that be pictured on the cake. He said it had some meaning for you two?” Clarice’s thin, grey brows rose. Several other people cocked their heads. Emma thought she saw an amused twinkle in Maisie Ransler’s eyes, but the older woman dropped them, looking into her champagne glass.

  Emma bit her lip. “Yes, it does. But it’s kind of... um... private.” More heat flushed her cheeks. She could hardly tell them that it was Josh’s way of reminding her of their bargain.

  There were a lot of knowing chuckles around the room. Emma would have to let them think what they were going to think... which was clearly an entirely different type of ‘naughty’ from the truth. Suzanne stuffed a prettily wrapped package into Emma’s hands and pressed her down into the one chair that remained in the crowded conference room.

  “Enough chit chat. As maid of honor...” the bubbly brunette eyed the room. “I refuse to be a matron of anything. As maid of honor, I say presents come first. And this one’s from me.”

  The thin box was wrapped in peach colored paper. Emma plucked at the tape, peeling it away as everyone crowded around to watch. When she lifted the box’s lid, fresh heat crept up her neck.

  “What is it?” Tanya asked. Emma knew what it was, of course. Any Star Wars fan would recognize the scraps of gold metal and burgundy fabric. She raised her gaze to Suzanne’s. The other woman grinned broadly.

  “Okay, so it’s more a present for Josh... but trust me, he’ll like it.” Suzanne snickered.

  “I don’t get it.” Tanya pouted at Dag, waiting for him to explain. He blinked and shifted uncomfortably.

  Kara Owens threw back her head and laughed. “It’s a Slave Leia costume. And Suzanne’s right, sweetie. Josh is going to love it.”

  “Oh my god,” Emma covered her face with her hands, trying to cool her burning cheeks. Everyone else was laughing and nudging each other. She should have guessed then, based on the sly looks and chuckles, but of course, she hadn’t. Not then.

  Each new box or bag held further barely-there scraps of clothing. Lace, silk, satin. Leather.

  “That one’s from me!” Shinae called from across the room, raising her hand above her head. The designer’s eyes sparkled as she claimed the leather bustier and garter. “It goes with his aesthetic sensibilities.” Shi
nae winked. Emma thought of Josh’s bedroom – the bedroom she’d spent too little time in for her libido’s liking.

  The walls were a warm shade of rusty brown. Sensual works of art with bold lines stood out from the walls. The furniture was all dark wood, the lighting soft. And the centerpiece of the room, of course, was the huge bed. The linens had been a rich shade of red.

  Shinae was right, Emma realized, blushing. This ensemble of leather and ribbon would fit right in with that bedroom. The silks and laces from everyone else would too, if it weren’t for the soft, pastel palate of most of the bra and panties sets.

  If her face flamed any brighter, she’d catch fire. Emma hastily closed the box with a cough and a murmured, “Thanks, Shinae.”

  “No problem!” the pretty blonde sing-songed. Emma snatched the next box from the pile Suzanne had made at her elbow. It was heavier than the others, about the size of an 8x11 sheet of paper. She’d just slid a nail beneath the first piece of tape when Maisie Ransler’s hand covered hers.

  “Do me a favor, Emma, and don’t open this yet.” Maisie’s smile was small and held some hidden meaning that Emma couldn’t grasp. It was there in the older woman’s eyes too.

  “Oh. Um, okay. When should I open it?” If it was something Maisie didn’t want her opening in a crowd, she’d be happy to hold off. Emma had never blushed this much in her entire life.

  Maisie plucked the box from Emma’s hands and slid it into her purse. “You’ll know when.”

  Suzanne shook her head. “Alright, enough of that.”

  “We still have cake to eat. And I really do need to talk to you about a few last minute things, Emma, so no running out before the party’s over!” Clarice chuckled.

  Emma took the next gift bag from Suzanne, raising her eyebrows at her boss. “You did that on purpose so I’d have to stay, didn’t you?”

  Her boss inclined her silver head. “Maybe.”

  “Oh, Emma, that reminds me. You should give the exclusive to People. They do the best job on weddings!” Kara studied the leather bustier with a crooked smile similar to her son’s. “Where did you say you got this, Shinae?” Emma buried her face in the tissue paper foaming out of the gift bag as her soon-to-be pseudo-mother-in-law turned to the blonde designer.

 

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