Last Name - Dr. Rebecca Sharp Page 0,18

if you want to take her out there, James. They have the wine with them.”

I bit back a groan. The last thing I needed was wine to bring down any last semblance of professionalism I was trying to maintain.

As soon as she was no longer looking, I whipped my angry gaze to his.

“Dinner?” I accused under my breath.

First, he’d invited me to their house. Now, come to find out, I was a dinner guest as well. This was rapidly disintegrating from an event-planning meeting into a meet-the-family event.

“That’s a great idea, Mom,” he replied, though he looked at me. “I think Carrie could use a glass.”

My lips tightened.

“I don’t want a glass,” I told him as soon as we were out of earshot. “And I don’t want to stay for dinner,” I insisted. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

I sucked in a breath as he spun and stopped in front of me, causing me to crash into him.

“The deal was that you help my brother and his fiancée plan and execute family events leading up to their wedding,” he growled with a low voice, his hands steadying on my arms. “They aren’t hotel guests. They aren’t tourists. They are my family, and that means you will be attending events, like dinner tonight, with my family, in order to help them.”

I gulped. “I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“Anyone?” His eyebrow arched, one hand leaving my arm to reach behind him for the handle to the deck door. “Or yourself?”

My gasp was drowned out by the door sliding open, James calling to his brother as we stepped outside.

“So, you get to work with my brother then?” the younger Arden asked with a wry grin from where we congregated around the patio table.

James had introduced me to Lars, a more boyish version of himself who shared his mother’s down-turned, warm-hearted eyes. His fiancée, Suzanne, was a bubbly blonde who also pulled me in for a hug upon meeting her.

While the grill heated up, we took seats around the dark wicker table. Suzanne had filled two more wine glasses without even asking whether we wanted any as she chatted on about their arrival and the house and how her parents were due in later tonight.

With her cheerful and expressive nature, Suzanne made it easy to feel as though one had been her friend forever. She listened gracefully when someone else spoke but took charge of any silence with ease to alleviate any awkwardness.

She’d been going over what her wedding planner had laid out for the ceremony at the hotel until Lars broke in.

It was the first part of the conversation I’d felt comfortable with since it was the closest we’d come to discussing my purpose here. So far, the topic of family activities hadn’t been broached, making the table discussion feel more like a double date than work duty.

I looked up from my untouched wine glass as I smiled and replied, “For a little bit.”

Until our marriage was annulled and I was free to leave.

“He better be paying you well to put up with his crazy family.” He lifted a hand to one side of his mouth, whispering not-so-discreetly, “And his sorry ass.”

I laughed as James tossed a napkin at his brother’s head who ducked with a good-natured grin just in time.

“Oh!” Suzanne exclaimed. “James, can you go grab the chicken so I can get it on the grill? I think we should be at temperature now.”

I caught his eyes before he abided the request and left me out on the deck with the future bride and groom.

“So, I have a few ideas that I’ve come up with for group activities just based on the limited information that James gave me,” I spoke quickly, foolishly hoping I might be quick enough to finish this discussion before dinner was ready and I could make my exit.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Suzanne exclaimed.

“Did he ask everyone at the hotel to call him James?” Lars asked with a tip of his head.

Shit.

Heat flooded my cheeks and with the late-setting summer sun, their rosy color matched the warm sky.

“Well,” I began slowly, reaching for the glass of wine I tried so hard to not touch and took a small sip. “He asked me to work directly with you, so I guess he didn’t feel comfortable being called Mr. Arden in front of his family.”

“Lars!” Suzanne chided with a shake of her head. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just giving you a hard time. James always keeps