And yes, my mother has an Instagram account. When my sister showed her she could share pictures of her meals with family and everyone else around the world, my mother became addicted. I think she also enjoys being an influencer, though she’d never admit it.
“Maybe,” I say with a polite, distant smile. “I’m not quite sure what she has planned for this trip.”
“We always love seeing her.” There are dollar signs in the sales clerk’s eyes.
I deliberately direct my attention to Grace, reminding the saleswoman that Grace is the focus here, not my mother.
Grace is studying the clothes, her expression distant. She raises a hand and runs a finger down the sleeve of the jacket, just the one finger. Like it’s a piece of art she isn’t certain she’s allowed to touch.
We don’t have time for her to admire it though. “Which one you want to try on first?” I ask. The sooner we get her into a proper suit, the sooner we can get back to all the studying she needs to do.
“Are they all my size?” Grace’s hand drops, and she tries to check the tags without touching the jacket.
The sales clerk pipes up. “Mr. Tsai sent over your measurements when he asked us to bring some suits for you to look over. And of course we’ll alter everything before your appointment tonight.”
Grace raises an eyebrow at me. “My measurements?”
They weren’t her exact measurements, just an estimate based on what I knew of her. And how much time I’ve spent surreptitiously studying her curves. “Just pick one,” I say, “and let’s get started. We still have things to do before tonight.”
Alarm flashes across Grace’s face and her cheeks go white. I think it’s finally sinking in exactly what she’s gotten into, and I almost feel bad. Just for a moment, until I ruthlessly squash it.
Grace is going to get plenty out of this. She’s not a victim here, not at all.
“I guess… I guess this purple one?” Grace points to one of the suits almost randomly.
I hold in my grimace. Honestly, it’s pretty hideous. The thing looks like a box made out of purple and white yarn strands—really, it’s like the suits are designed to be ugly. I mean, my mother doesn’t look ugly in them, but I can’t imagine it suiting Grace. She’s too… light for it.
I inwardly shake my head. That’s not the point—the point is to get her through this charade.
“Ah, the lavender tweed bouclé,” the saleswoman says blandly. “Good choice. It’s very… timeless.”
Which is a fancy way of saying old-fashioned. But maybe that’s better. My mother did demand that my wife be suitable.
The clerk grabs the suit off the rack, takes Grace by the shoulder, and pushes her toward the bathroom in my office. Grace sends me a panicked look over her shoulder, which I meet with a stern one. She can’t already be this flustered, not by a simple salesclerk. Tonight is going to be much, much worse, with my mother and sister interrogating her.
Oh shit. I haven’t told my sister what’s going on. Another thing to do before dinner tonight. I can’t hand that call off to my assistant.
As the bathroom door slams shut behind Grace and the clerk, I grab my personal cell phone and dial Lucy. Please pick up, please pick up, I pray. If Lucy isn’t in on this, she’ll give it all away. She’s never learned how to keep her mouth shut, and if she senses I’m up to something, she’ll tattle faster than she ever did when we were kids.
Thankfully, she answers on the fourth ring.
“Brother! How are you? And congratulations on your engagement.”
I’m not certain if she’s referring to Amelia or Grace. I don’t know what our mother’s told her yet. No matter who she’s referring to, she’s stinking annoying. My sister was born annoying and has remained annoying. It’s lucky I love her so much.
“I’m not engaged. Well, I am, kind of.” I glance at the bathroom door. It seems too silent in there.
“Really? Because Mom said we were all going to meet your fiancée tonight at dinner. Which struck me as kind of odd since I’ve already met Amelia.”
What a smart-ass. I grind my teeth. “Why didn’t you stop Mother before she came all the way here with Amelia?”
That might not be fair since Lucy can’t make Mother do anything, but she at least could have tried.
“Because Mom is determined to see you married,” Lucy explains exasperatedly. “And when Mom is determined to do something, not even God himself can stop her. Amelia is nice. I’m sure you two will be very happy together.”
“You know why I can’t marry Amelia.” Sometimes I think everyone in Taiwan knows about Amelia’s secret affair—everyone except her parents and my mother. “I told you, I’m not proposing to her.”
“Then who am I meeting tonight?”
I look again toward the bathroom door. How long does it take to put on a suit? I hope Grace doesn’t want to try on multiple outfits. “Well, that kind of, sort of engagement I mentioned?” I take a deep breath although I’m not sure why. It’s all fake, so there’s nothing at stake in telling my sister. “It’s with Grace.”
I can hear my sister putting the pieces together in the pause that follows. “Grace? The one who’s about to be deported? That Grace?”
I’ve mentioned Grace to Lucy before, but in passing. I didn’t realize she’s made that much of an impression.
“That’s the one. Mother showed up and told me I had to marry Amelia—and announce it at the gala—and then Grace was right there, and I just…”
“You panicked?”
I scowl. “I never panic. I planned… very hastily and quickly.”
“You panicked.” There’s a shimmer of laughter in my sister’s voice. “I hope Grace told you to shove it.”
I shift guiltily because Grace didn’t do anything of the sort. If anything, she accepted maybe too quickly. “She said yes. It’s only for a little while, until I can get Mother to drop the Amelia idea. She wants me to take over the family holdings. She says she’s ready to retire.”
“Yeah.” My sister’s voice softens. “I never thought she’d want to give all that up, but I guess it’s time.”
Our mother’s getting older—I can feel the realization spread between us in the pause.
“She said something about the board only letting me step up if I was married,” I say. “She might be stretching the truth there.”
Lucy snorts. “You think? But I can see it too. The board members are kind of… older.”
“Doesn’t matter. They can’t stop me, and there’s no way I’m getting married. This engagement is just a temporary diversion.”
“But you’re bringing Grace to meet the family tonight.” My sister pauses to let that sink in. “You’re going to introduce her to everyone as if you’re going to marry her. And presumably you’re going to announce it at the gala. I doubt Mom gave up on that idea.”
“It’ll be fine. Once I’m back in Taipei, I’ll say we weren’t suitable or she had to stay or something.” An idea begins to form in my mind. “And maybe I’ll be so heartbroken over her I can’t even think of marrying anyone else.” I nod to myself. “That would solve a lot of problems.”
Lucy sighs heavily. “It’s actually insane and will never work. But if you’re sure Grace is on board…”
“Grace is fine with it.” And she’s still not out of the bathroom. We’re wasting valuable study time. “I’ll make it more than worth her while financially.”
“I was thinking more of the emotional fallout,” my sister mutters.
I ignore that, because there won’t be. We’re just friends who are doing each other favors. Or maybe not even friends—we’re really only connected through a friend of a friend.
The bathroom door latch snicks open, catching my attention. Grace finally comes out, wearing the purple suit. She looks…
I catch my breath because even in that fusty suit, she looks fresh and delightful. And kind of sexy to be honest. I wouldn’t mind tearing the thing off her to see what racy lingerie sh
e has on underneath.
I shake my head at myself, and Grace stumbles to a stop.
“Is it not right?” She looks so uncertain it makes my heart clench. This is going to be a lot more difficult than I thought it would be if I’m going to react to her like this.
“It’s fine,” I say, more bluntly than I intended. But that’s okay. We both need to keep this very impersonal even if she is pretending to be the most intimate person in my life.
The phone in my hand squawks at me. Crap, I didn’t hang up with my sister.
I put the phone back to my ear. “Listen, I need to finish getting her ready. I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”
“You’re dressing her yourself?” Lucy asks. “Is that a good idea?”
I ignore that, because of course I know how to dress a woman. It’s not that hard.
“It’s fine,” I snap. “She just has to get through dinner.” I hang up then since I can’t take any more crap from Lucy.
Grace is staring at me like she’s never seen me before. “Is everything okay?”
I toss my phone onto my desk. “That was my sister. She knows the whole story now. How’s the suit?”
Grace fingers a cuff. “It’s… nice.”
Great, she doesn’t like it. I know what that means. “So pick another one.” I force myself to smile as I wave at the rack since I’m supposed to remember my manners.
“No.” She takes a step backward. “Really, it’s fine. She already took the measurements to alter it.”
The sales clerk appears behind Grace. “That’s right. We can get started on that right away.”
“I wanted to show you before I took it off,” Grace says.
I let my gaze run over her, pretending to take the outfit in from all angles but really admiring the body beneath the clothes. The skirt can’t hide the swells of her bottom—hell, it’s hugging them.
When I look up at Grace, she’s got one eyebrow raised. Like she knows exactly what I was doing.
And like maybe… she liked it.
Chapter Six
It’s taken us half an hour to get to the restaurant from Paul’s office, and he hasn’t stopped quizzing me on his many cousins the entire time.
I had no idea so many of his relatives lived here in the Bay Area. Or that they would all show up to this intimate family dinner on such short notice. Even if we are supposed to be engaged, I can’t imagine his third cousin twice removed—Karen, whose parents are John and Eleanor—would ever come up between us.
But I still listen very attentively, wearing my new suit and sitting with my back straight as an arrow.
“Did you get that?” he asks irritably. “About Julian’s kids? The next one is due in three months.”
“I think so.” He frowns at my response, so I say hastily, “Yes, I definitely did. It’s just… your family is very big.”
“My great-great-grandfather had three wives. It makes for a lot of cousins.”
He sounds annoyed but also kind of proud. Which perhaps he should be. That all these people are willing to come together for this family occasion means something.
He also knows something about each and every one of them. How their kids are doing, what’s worrying them, what to congratulate them on. His mother might be running the family enterprises, but Paul seems more than ready to lead the entire family, both in business and everywhere else.
It must also be exhausting, keeping track of all that. I’m tired and I’ve only spent an hour trying to get a handle on it.
“I promise I won’t get it wrong,” I say. “I know this is important to you.”
His expression softens. “It’s okay. We’re kind of in the deep end here. I’m just trying to help you swim.”
That’s right—we’re partners. Which feels strange since when he was helping me before, it wasn’t a partnership. He was giving me help, and I was grateful for it. But this time if one of us fails, we both go down. The space between my heart and my stomach goes funny at that thought.
“My family isn’t so big,” I say. “There will be less for you to remember.”
He nods. “Your father and mother are in Beijing. And no siblings. Anyone else I should know?”
I hesitate for a moment. “No, not really.”
I decide not to tell him about my great-uncle. If Paul was truly my fiancé, of course I’d tell him, but… I keep thinking of my father’s face when he speaks of his uncle, of exposing that pain in order to better perpetuate a lie.
I can’t do it. Paul doesn’t need to know that story to pretend to love me.
Paul pulls into a parking spot next to a marina. We’re in East Bay now, but the most southern tip of the bay. There’s a modest restaurant on the pier with windows facing the water and the boats bobbing in the slips.
The cars in the lot are anything but modest. There are Mercedes, BMWs, a Jaguar or two, and even a Rolls-Royce on one side of the lot. On the other side are Teslas, Lamborghinis, and even a Maserati. A generational divide done in automobiles, I’m guessing.
My palms start to sweat. I’m used to being around really rich people—I’ve met my fair share of tech millionaires—but this is way beyond networking with Silicon Valley types. These people think I’m going to be part of their family. I have to make them believe I’m going to be part of their family.
Paul helps me out, his hand warm and firm as he steadies me. My heels are wobbly—the sales lady insisted I needed stilettos—so I’m grateful for his rocklike presence. I sway toward him before I can catch myself and his scent… My nerves pop and sizzle when it hits me, warm citrus and peppery undertones.
His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. Then another. “Your perfume,” he says, all deep and low.
Oh my goodness, we’re smelling each other. Right here in the parking lot, just breathing each other in.
His hand tightens on mine as his gaze locks on mine. My heart thumps and jumps in my chest, and I suddenly realize I’m leaning toward him. Only a few more inches and I could press my lips to his.
I snap back, locking my knees to keep from stumbling. “Sorry. Thank you,” I mumble.
“It’s my pleasure.” His tone is back to its usual smooth politeness. But he keeps my hand in his as we walk up to the restaurant.
A note on the door announces that the restaurant is closed today for a private party. I’m a little shocked that Paul could get the entire restaurant for his family on such short notice, but I’m also not shocked. Judging by the cars in the lot, this party can afford it.
The moment we walk through the door, a young woman who looks remarkably like Paul swoops down on us. “So good to see you again!” She takes my arm as if we’re old friends. “I can’t wait for you to meet everyone else in the family. I keep telling Paul not to hide you away and keep you to himself. I’m glad he’s finally listening to me.”
“Lucy,” I say, because this must Paul’s sister. He told me about her, but nothing could quite prepare me for the reality. She’s dressed beautifully in a black tunic with white flowers climbing up the sleeves and sides. Her knee-high stiletto boots look brand-new without even a speck of dust.
She looks fashionable but not fussy, and pampered but not prissy. She also looks completely enthused about life.
It’s kind of how I’d like to look someday, if I have the money to.
I smile at her, hoping I don’t look too puzzled or like I’m trying to catch up. Which I totally am. “Well, with your mother here, Paul felt it was finally time for me to meet everyone.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t leave you alone,” Lucy says in a voice only for me. “I know it’s kind of terrifying, but you’ve got this.”
It seems Paul’s not the only person in his family into rescuing people. And thank goodness for that—I’m going to need all the allies I can get.
Before we can start to make our way through the room though, everyone swarms Paul.
There’s no other way to describe it; one moment Paul enters the room and the nex
t he’s surrounded by a mass of people, all of them vying for his attention. Some are telling him how good it is to see him, some are asking for his advice on investments, and others are giving him advice on investments.
He simply smiles as if this is normal, talking calmly to whoever’s closest to him, working his way through the crowd.
“Wow, they really missed him,” I say to Lucy.
She laughs. “No, they didn’t. He saw them all two weeks ago for Jane’s birthday. This is what happens every time—he’s the CEO of the family, and they all want to get some face time with him.”
“It looks exhausting.” Not that Paul is showing even a hint of that. His smile is fixed, his expression open.
Lucy gives me a sidelong glance. “I think I’m going to like you.” She takes my arm. “Come on, they won’t release him for a while.”
We began to make our way through the room, stopping to talk to all the cousins whose names I was supposed to have memorized. And I have—I remember enough names and details to surprise myself.
Each person we meet is friendly enough but not exactly welcoming. They keep looking past us toward Paul, as if wondering when they’ll get their turn with him. He’s still being swarmed, although we’ve already been here for twenty minutes.
Has he gotten something to eat? Or drink? Or had a chance to sit? I suppose these concerns are too wifely for me to have, but I do worry. As always, he’s breathtakingly handsome, but perhaps there’s some strain there, in his forehead.
I turn away from the cousins I’m supposed to be meeting—Ruth and Ben, live in Santa Rosa, two kids, one of whom is a gifted pianist—and whisper to Lucy, “I should go check on Paul.”
She looks at me like I’ve suggested going out to check on the car. Or maybe the clouds. “He’s fine. Look”—she points to one corner of the room—“you absolutely have to meet her.”
I know exactly who Lucy means, and my heart sinks. Still, I don’t resist when she pulls me over to a young woman who’s as well dressed as she is. The woman is beautiful, well groomed, sleek like a prized greyhound. And yet there’s something off about her. Maybe it’s the twist of her mouth and her too-tight grip on her champagne flute, but unhappiness seems to envelop her.
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