“YOU WON’T BELIEVE HOW happy we are to hear that you’re engaged!”
Chelsea Masterson is the youngest of Pop’s granddaughters. She’s slim and gorgeous with lovely red-gold highlights and perfectly manicured nails and eyebrows. She’s about as different from me as it’s possible to be, and I wouldn’t have expected to like her. But I do. There’s a vibrant sincerity beneath her polished appearance that’s impossible not to appreciate. When she says she’s happy for me, I believe it.
“We really are,” Melissa adds. She’s the oldest of the three sisters with a no-nonsense confidence I immediately recognize as one way a youngish, attractive woman makes a place for herself in the professional world. “Not that it matters in general whether you’re engaged as long as you’re happy. But it makes it easier with Pop.”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I get that. The truth is Damian and I have been low-key together for a while. We’ve been talking about marriage, but this seemed like a good time. We don’t want a big fuss though. Neither one of us are into big productions.”
“We completely understand that,” Chelsea says after finishing off the last of her frothy coffee drink. “Both Melissa and our sister Sam got married in the courthouse, and I eloped to Vegas.”
“Did you really?” I’m surprised by that piece of news, and like always, I address it bluntly. “I would have thought you’d prefer a big church wedding.”
Chelsea’s pretty face twists slightly. I can’t identify the feeling underlying it. “Maybe. In a different situation. But it just worked out for us to elope. At least it’s a story to tell.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Sam, the middle of Pop’s granddaughters, was busy this afternoon, so she couldn’t join Melissa and Chelsea and me for coffee. I’ve liked Sam perfectly well the two times I’ve met her so far, but I’m just as happy for there to be only two of them. Two people are easier for me to have a conversation with than three.
It’s only been a week since I “announced” my engagement, so I’m not surprised that most of our conversation is focused on that topic. But it’s making me fidgety. I might be a good liar, but I don’t like to do it. It makes me feel guilty, particularly since I genuinely like both these women.
If I was hoping to change the subject to something easier, I’m doomed to disappointment. Chelsea leans forward onto her elbows on the table and says, “So tell us all about Damian.”
“Oh. Well. He’s a good guy.” I know that’s not a great answer, but I’ve never known how to respond to generalized questions like that.
Chelsea laughs, and even Melissa quirks her mouth up in a dry smile.
“Sorry,” I add. “I’m sure you want more information about him than that. He’s thirty-three. He was born in Atlanta. He’s working on his PhD in English right now.”
“Oh really? So is Sam. She’s going to be so excited to talk to him. What’s his specialty?”
“Early twentieth-century American literature.” I’m relieved to remember so much from my conversations with Damian. “I don’t actually know a lot about it, but if Sam is in the same field, I’m sure he’d love to talk to her about it.”
“So how did you two meet?” Melissa asks.
I’m prepared for the question since Damian and I planned out a simple backstory on the flight to Charleston this morning. “We met at a party at the house of mutual friends and just hit it off. We’ve been together for several months.”
We chose that timeline because I dated someone for a few months less than a year ago, and so we couldn’t extend our fictional relationship back as far as that. According to Damian, he hasn’t really dated much in the past year, ever since he backed off on his work for Companions for Hire.
I find it hard to believe a man as hot and virile as Damian has been living like a monk for a year, so I assume he’s had some casual hookups. I didn’t ask, of course. It’s not my business. But he’s evidently not dated in the past year in any way that will conflict with our relationship story.
“So when do we get to meet him?” Chelsea demands with a sunny smile that makes the question less intrusive than it otherwise would have been.
“He’s here with me today,” I say casually, pleased that everything seems to be going so smoothly. “He’ll be coming by to pick me up soon, so you can meet him