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“All right,” Dominic says, leaning forward. “There’s more than the wedding to plan along with all this.”
“Right,” I reply. “What do you have in mind?”
“We have to sell it, really sell it, if we’re going to get the board and the investors off our backs. A year will be enough time, but only if we make it look convincing.”
“There’s only so much prying into our personal lives they can do, legally,” Xavier points out. “As long as we make it look good when we’re out in public and keep the bickering to a minimum, I don’t see any reason why we can’t sell this.” He gives Dominic a look when he mentions bickering, and Dominic just looks back at him.
“I don’t know why you’re looking at me,” he says. “You might seem like you’re the agreeable one, but arguing pleasantly is still arguing.”
“Don’t start,” I cut in before they can get going. We have to at least make the wedding planning look like a cohesive thing.
On the other side of the room, Fletcher has pulled out binders and a tablet and is showing Penelope pages and pages of wedding ideas.
She looks wide eyed, like she had no idea it was going to be elaborate, and I watch as she touches the page of one of the binders looking entranced by whatever images she’s seeing.
“We could do something like that,” Fletcher tells her with a smile. “This time of year, we can get away with pretty much anything, and your coloring would work with a good variety of colors. It just depends on what you want.”
“Oh,” Penelope says. She pulls her hand back from the binder and looks down at her lap. “I mean, I don’t have the first idea about this kind of thing, and I don’t…” She bites her lip, tugging it into her mouth, then glances back up at the wedding planner. “Whatever you think is best is fine. It doesn’t have to be too elaborate, you know? Just… something simple.”
It’s easy to tell that she’s doing her best to not be a bother, and I wonder if we should impress upon her that her wants are important in this too. She had so much confidence before, when she was in my office laying down her ground rules for this whole thing, but now she seems to be shrinking into herself.
I drag my eyes away from her and her conversation with Fletcher, and focus back on what the other Alphas are saying.
“We need to figure out where we’re going to live,” Dominic says. “Space will be a concern, and Penelope needs to be comfortable.”
Xavier nods. “We should get her input. And I guess we have to debate the merits of living somewhere big enough for her to have her own floor, versus people talking about how we clearly don’t all want to live in close quarters, which must mean that we hate each other or something.”
Dominic rolls his eyes. “People are going to talk regardless. And I’m sure most of them will just chalk it up to us beingeccentric and rich and let it go at that. Why not have the space if we can afford it?”
“Maybe the public will think that, but will the board? The investors?”
“I have had it up to fucking here with the board and the investors,” Dominic mutters. “I’m more inclined to care about Penelope’s feelings than theirs, since she’s going to be our wife.”
There’s that word again. I can’t help but glance over at Penelope, just in time to see her tuck a loose lock of hair behind her ear and nod at something Fletcher is saying.
My chest tightens just a bit, enough to be noticeable.
“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” I tell the others, even though my eyes are still on Penelope.
Even though she’s in conversation with Fletcher, I can tell the second she hears my comment. She glances over at me for just a split second, long enough for me to see the hurt flash in her eyes, but then she’s forcing a smile, laughing at something Fletcher says. Determined to make it seem like it doesn’t bother her.
The feeling in my chest morphs into a pang of guilt. I didn’t mean to hurt her feelings, and it would have been better if she didn’t hear what I said. At the same time though, it’s probably better if she hates me. If we keep as much distance between us as possible. I’ll never be able to love her, not after everything, and this isn’t real anyway. She doesn’t have to care about me, and I shouldn’t want her to. After a year, we go back to our lives, and I’ll probably never have to see her again.
“It’s going to be a pleasure working with you, Ms. Dalton,” Fletcher says, getting to his feet and holding out his hand for Penelope to shake.
“Please call me Penelope,” she says, shaking his hand. “And I’m really looking forward to seeing what you come up with. All your work is so beautiful.”
“Well, thank you. I hope you and your grooms will be happy.”
We all stand up to file out, and once the others have left the room, I glance back at Fletcher, who is scribbling in a notebook.
“I have one request,” I tell him.
He looks up, surprised. “Of course, Mr. Blackwell. Your input is also important here.”
“Make sure there are plenty of fairy lights during the ceremony. And the reception.”
“Fairy lights. I can do that. Something classy, but fantastical at the same time?”