Marry Me for Money (25 page)

“I know. I’m just allergic to flowers,” I lied.

“Well then,” she said with a big smile on her face, “hand them over.” She strolled over to my desk and reached for the vase.

“Take them home today, please.”
Before Brian sees them
.

“Sure thing. I wouldn’t want you sneezing everywhere.”

After Kent’s call, I couldn’t work, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t do anything, except think of dinner with his parents. Dusk approached as my heels clicked against the sidewalk while I was waiting for Kent to pick me up. We were going to meet his parents at The Peninsula Hotel.

All the pent-up anxiety that had bubbled up inside of me after I’d talked to Kent this morning had led into a full-on panic attack when I stepped into the car. “I can’t do this,” I said, mostly to myself. I looked down at my clenched hands, my palms sweaty. All the nervousness from the first day when we’d pretended with his parents rushed back to haunt me.

Kent reached for my hand and squeezed it as he pressed on the gas to take us closer to our destination.

Breathe in and out, in and out
. I tried all the tricks in the book, trying to calm my nerves, but nothing seemed to work. The jumpy, anxious feeling was building inside every part of my very being. From the queasiness in the pit of my stomach, I thought I was going to hurl on the dashboard. I’d pulled it off this far, but now was the real deal. With every lie, I’d fallen deeper and deeper, getting further away from reality.
You agreed to this.
Breathe, Beth. Breathe.

“You’ll be fine, I promise,” he said, releasing me and putting both hands on the steering wheel.

Once I did this, I couldn’t go back. We would be engaged, and the planning would be full force and straight ahead. As he drove down Michigan Ave, I stared at the designer stores to my right. Marc Jacobs, Burberry, and Ferragamo passed by me. It was sensory overload. I saw the stores, the lights, and the cars as my mind raced a mile a minute, thinking of what would happen and what I would say at dinner. I concentrated on one thing to prevent myself from passing out—my breathing.

In and out.

In and out.

Before I knew it, we were parked in front of The Peninsula Hotel, waiting at the valet.

“I can’t do this,” I said a little too loudly. I looked to him with wide eyes as I clenched my jaw.

The valet attendant approached and waited by Kent’s door, but Kent stopped him by locking the door and putting up one finger, signaling to give us a moment.

“Come on, Beth.”

I stared at him, and then I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head vigorously from side to side.

He placed both hands on the sides of my face, to still me, forcing me to open and meet his eyes. “I promise you, you will be fine. You won’t even have to say a word. We’re almost there, Beth. Just a little bit further, and we’ll be married. Then, it will be over, and I can pay off your debt.”

I listened to the intensity of his words.

But I want marriage to be forever.

“Stop it,” Kent said. “Don’t think of backing out now. Everything will be fine. Don’t you want to be out of debt?”

The valet attendant knocked at Kent’s window.

Kent’s demeanor changed as he twisted to face the attendant. He shot him a look. “What?” he mouthed. He held up one finger again in warning. Then, he turned to me slowly, framing my shoulders with his hands. “Beth, listen to me. Do you want to be out of debt?”

When I didn’t answer quickly enough, he shook my shoulders gently and smiled. “Yes or no?”

I nodded, but before I even had a chance to speak, he had his hand on the door.

“Good. Let’s go before you change your mind.” He stepped out of the car, and walked right past the valet attendant holding his door. He approached another attendant and gave him the keys.

Walking to my side, he opened the passenger door and offered his hand. “Are you ready?”

Am I ready? I don’t think so.

I didn’t have time to overanalyze my thoughts further as Kent reached over, interlocked our fingers, and pulled me inside The Peninsula Hotel.

He took the lead through the lobby, and I held on to him, gripping his hand for support. I thought I would fall while walking on the marble floor, so I concentrated on stepping one foot in front of the other. I concentrated to my black heels clicking against the marble floor. I looked up when he stopped in front of the extravagant floral arrangement of pink and cream hydrangeas, roses, and peonies. The scent of the fragrant flowers filled my nose. He pulled me to face him and used both hands to frame my shoulders. It was only then that I realized he was in a suit that was similar to the navy suit I was wearing. As always, he looked handsome, and when I peered up at him, I felt the same butterfly feeling, that jolt of electricity between us. For a brief moment, the nervousness and the anxiety dissipated as I stared into his chestnut eyes.

“I just want to say sorry for a couple of nights ago. I was going through some stuff, my own stuff.” He shook his head. “I’m just confused. All I know now is that I want you to be happy. Whatever gets you there, I want to see it happen.”

He stepped back to pull something out of his inside jacket pocket, and my eyes widened at what he was holding in his hands.

It was a red velvet box with one word etched in gold.

Cartier.

“I went shopping,” he said, a dimple emerging on his cheek. “I saw this, and it reminded me of you. It’s perfect and beautiful,” he said, staring at me intently.

He flipped the top open, and inside sat a single round solitaire on a thin band that I assumed was platinum.

“Fit for a princess.” He reached for my left hand and slipped it on my ring finger.

I looked at the rock that spanned half of my ring finger. The diamond was supposed to represent love and promises of the future, but most of all, it was supposed to represent forever. And I knew that didn’t apply to us.

The crowd around us erupted in applause, breaking me from my thoughts. I hadn’t even known that anyone had noticed us, and I blushed at the attention we were getting.

“Kiss!” someone yelled as the oohs and aahs quieted down.

Kent pulled me closer, wrapping his hands around my waist. He looked younger, smiling like a little boy. “Maybe I should have gotten down on one knee,” he whispered.

My eyes noticed the expectant people surrounding us.

“Kiss!” someone yelled again. “Do it.”

His face was so handsome, but more than that, his chestnut eyes were shining. His closeness was unnerving, but it wasn’t enough because I wanted to be closer. I was hyperaware of his whole self in front of me and when he leaned in, I slowly closed my eyes.

What am I doing?

He kissed me at the corner of my mouth, and when I looked up, everyone was cheering.

“Do you like it?” Kent asked, looking toward my left hand.

“It’s big,” I said, peering at the rock on my finger. I didn’t know anything about rings, but the size of the diamond spanned knuckle to knuckle.

“Big?” He looked at me, expecting more.

“Big and beautiful,” I smiled, “and really heavy.” I entangled our hands together to prevent the onlookers, especially the women, from getting closer to look at the ring.

He kissed the top of my hand once before leading me into the restaurant. “Let’s go. My parents are waiting for us.”

My hand tingled from the spot where he’d kissed. The lines were getting gray again, and I didn’t know how to stop it. Why he did this, I didn’t know, and why I let him made me feel guilty.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m nervous,” I said softly as we walked past the greeter. “And you can’t do that anymore. It’s not fair to Brian.”

His smile disappeared as he pulled me forward, and we made our way to the table where Mr. and Mrs. Plack were seated.

Mrs. Plack, as usual, was prim and proper in a cardigan sweater. She was laughing at something Mr. Plack had said. They were cute as always, looking as they should, like an older couple in love. When she saw us approaching the table, her face lit up, and they both stood to welcome us.

She kissed Kent on the cheek and enveloped me in a big hug. She grabbed my hand to squeeze it, lifted my hand and gaped at the ring. Her eyes widened at Kent in shock.

“Surprise! We’re engaged,” Kent said, observing his mother’s reaction.

Her mouth was slightly ajar as she blinked a couple of times. She was stunned into silence.

Mr. Plack mirrored her shock, but he didn’t even try to hide it. “Are you crazy?” he asked, placing both hands on the table and leaning in.

Mrs. Plack sat down and tugged on Mr. Plack’s jacket to force him to sit with her, but he didn’t budge.

“Jack,” she whispered, looking around us.

“What are you thinking?” Mr. Plack cried out, looking directly at Kent.

“Jack…” Mrs. Plack pulled him down more forcefully.

“Karen, this is crazy,” he snapped, as he briefly glanced at his wife before sitting.

When Kent took his chair, I followed suit and sat down. I fidgeted in my seat as an audience of spectators slowly built around us.

Kent’s face remained resolute. “I know we haven’t known each other long, but you and Mom were engaged less than a year before you got married, and you two have been together ever since.”

“We were engaged in less than a year, but we had known each other for five years before that. You can’t compare the two.” Mr. Plack’s voice was hushed as he tried to keep his temper under wraps.

I glanced at Kent, and his face mirrored the same frustration as his father’s.

“Kent, you think marriage is just a walk in the park. Do you even know how to unselfishly take care of another person, to put someone’s needs above yours, to love someone unconditionally?” Mr. Plack looked to his son in expectation.

“Of course I do,” Kent said, meeting his father’s stare head-on.

They were both stubborn, and I wondered who would back down.

“You don’t even know how to take care of yourself, let alone another person. You’re selfish and spoiled, and living off a whim is not justified.”

“Jack…” Mrs. Plack said softly, placing her hand on Mr. Plack’s arm to calm him.

“Don’t pretend you know anything about our relationship. I care for her,” Kent scoffed, reaching for my hand. “I do,” he said, meeting my eyes.

My ears warmed, and I tugged my hand from Kent before adjusting the salt and pepper shakers on the table.

“Oh, and love saves the world,” Mr. Plack mocked. “Marriage is through sickness and health and good times and bad. Do you understand the magnitude of this type of commitment?” Mr. Plack stood up, looking to his son. “Do you even know anything about each other? Have you had your first fight yet?” His voice was slightly raised now as he leaned in. “You’re spoiled, son. That’s the truth, and the uglier truth is that it is our own fault. But your actions have never drastically affected the life of someone else.”

“Jack, stop,” Mrs. Plack pleaded.

Mr. Plack suddenly realized that I was there. “Beth, know that this hostility is not meant for you. It’s just too soon. You’re a bright lady. Why would you want to jump into something like this so soon?” He paused slightly and furrowed his brow. “Did you guys have an accident? Are you pregnant? Is that what this is all about?”

“No!” Kent and I spoke simultaneously.

I felt my face heat up, the warmth spreading to my ears. I wished I were anywhere but here at this moment. I placed my hands together on top of the table, cutting off the circulation and concentrated on the paleness I was causing due to the lack of blood flow.

Mr. Plack ran one hand down his face in frustration. “Kent, are you ready? Marriage is forever, son. Are you ready for that till-death-do-you-part stuff? Are you ready for forever? Because that’s what marriage is.”

“I am.” Kent’s voice was steady, but his eyes wavered, giving him away.

“You’re not,” his father laughed once without humor. “You have a lot of growing up to do before then.”

Mrs. Plack slammed her hands on the table, shaking our wine glasses on the table. “Stop, both of you,” she said softly. There was an undercurrent in her voice that caught the attention of both Plack men, bringing them to silence.

She looked to both Kent and me. “Why the rush? Why not wait, even just a year?”

I lifted the glass of water to my lips, feeling nervous from the tension of this conversation.

Kent paused, looking at his father first and then his mother. “She’s a virgin, and she won’t have sex until she’s married. I love her, and I can’t wait.”

I coughed up my drink, sputtering water onto the table. Dribbles of liquid leaked from the sides of my mouth.

Still coughing like an idiot and most likely choking on my own spit, I stood. I thought I was going to die right then and there. There was an intense ringing in my ears, and at that very moment, I wished for death.

“Sorry. Excuse me.” I said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. Before I could catch a reaction from anyone, I walked away.

I rushed toward the restroom, almost knocking over someone on the way. I gripped the sink and looked at myself in the mirror. I twisted on the faucet to wet my hands and splash water on my face.