Page 43 of The Temporary Fiancée
To my surprise, he turns up the music and gestures for me to continue. The roar of the wind through the car eases my embarrassment, and I keep going.
As I reach for the song’s high notes, I let my voice grow louder, and Reed’s smile widens. I nod my head along withthe tune during the instrumental part of the song, playing fake drums on the dashboard and dancing along with the song.
He laughs. His hands tap the steering wheel in time with the beat. I can tell that he’s enjoying himself; I like that he’s laughing along with me, notatme, as I make a fool of myself in his passenger seat.
For the refrain, Reed’s voice joins mine, and when the song ends, we’re both beaming as he tries to harmonize. My sides hurt from laughing. The careful bun my hair was in has come apart, and my dark locks are whipping around in the wind, but I don’t care. I’m having too much fun.
Laughing along with Reed, singing in the car… it feels like we’re real friends, comfortable with each other. Comfortable like two people whose relationship wasn’t just litigated to hell and back. Whose fates aren’t determined by contract.
It gives me a much-needed dose of energy and confidence.
For once, it feels like we really can pull this off.
Chapter 12
Reed
Olivia’s parentslive in a two-story house in Queens, along a quiet, tree-lined street. The house itself is run-down and a little shabby; the pale yellow paint is faded, but still brings a bright cheer to the place. There’s an overgrown garden out front that we have to pick our way through to get to the front door.
Olivia pauses on the stoop, hesitating as she stares at the door.
“I’m a little nervous,” she admits, wringing her hands together. “This is such a big thing to tell them.”
“Everything will be okay,” I say, trying to comfort her—though I have to admit that I’m more than a little nervous as well.
I want her parents to like me. Even though this is all a lie,theydon’t know that, and I want them to approve of Olivia’s situation.
I shouldn’t worry, of course. By all metrics, I’m a total catch. I have a ten-figure net worth and a face tailor-made for magazine covers. Who wouldn’t love to see their daughter arm in arm with me?
Except that I know Olivia, and I know that her family doesn’t actually care about most of my credentials. They don’t really payattention to wealth or connections. They won’t care about my corporate CV, or the size of the deals I’ve brokered, or even the Eastwood family name.
“Do you think they’ll like me?” I say suddenly, unable to stop myself.
Olivia shoots me a bemused look. “What? Of course.”
“Are you sure?” Now that I’ve already voiced my apprehensions, I might as well dig this hole deeper. “I don’t want your parents to think I’m some kind of prick.”
At that, Olivia laughs. Her laughter, as always, is infectious, and I smile despite myself.
“I’m serious,” I say. It’s hard to convince her, now that we’re both grinning like idiots again.
She shakes her head. “They already know you, Reed.”
“Yeah, but… they don’t know me personally.” Something else occurs to me, and I add, “Plus, I’m not sure they parted on the best of terms with my father. They might not be happy to see you with an Eastwood.”
“But you’re not Lionel Eastwood,” Olivia reasons. “They never parted on bad terms withyou,did they?”
“I… guess not.”
Olivia takes me by both arms, looking me in the eye. “You’ll be fine. Just take a deep breath, okay?”
The act of reassuring me seems to have calmed Olivia down, too. The tension is gone from her face as she turns back to the door.
Olivia knocks, and after a few moments, the door opens.
Seeing Olivia’s parents for the first time in years, I’m shocked at how much smaller her mother is. The illness has clearly worn on her; she seems decades older, and frail, too. Robert Quinn escorts his wife to the door carefully, and I notice that she leans on him for balance.
At the sight of her parents, Olivia breaks into a nervous smile. “Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad.” She steps forward to throw her arms around them, and I hang back awkwardly for a moment until Olivia gestures to me. “You both remember Reed, I’m assuming?”
