My Big Fat Fake Wedding - Lauren Landish Page 0,94

myself a brat, even though my younger days were plagued by pranks and a devil-may-care attitude. But even with everything I’ve been given, I have worked hard to get to where I am. Maybe I just played a little too hard too, I realize. Could Dad’s ultimatum be for my own good like Courtney said? A way to force me to grow up personally, not just professionally?

That idea sits uncomfortably on my shoulders, weighing me down and reframing so much of my childhood, my adulthood, my life.

“I need to go back to Violet. I’ll see you at the party,” I say neutrally, not belying any of the swirling thoughts racing through my head. Dad’s a shark, and if he thinks for one second that he’s making headway in whatever this battle is between us, he’ll go in for the kill to drive his point home. To be honest, I think I need to do a little self-reflection instead, not be beaten over the head with his take on my successes and failures.

Dad takes a sip of his gin. “Don’t . . .”

But I’m already out the door, not wanting to hear the rest of his decree. Don’t embarrass him? Don’t hurt Violet? Don’t be an immature asshole? All of the above?

I swear, I’ll show him . . . what?

What do I want to show him? Because the truth is that Dad’s right. This engagement’s a sham. I never would’ve done this if he hadn’t forced my hand. And Violet never would’ve dated me, much less planned to marry me, if she didn’t have a time clock pushing her pace. She’s doing this out of love, as weird as it is.

But that’s the thing. Dad doesn’t even know why Violet’s doing this, but he already knows what I’m just discovering. Her heart’s beautiful, as beautiful as anything I’ve ever encountered in my life.

I’m tempted to just load everyone back into the limo and leave, but when I reach Violet’s side again, she’s smiling. “Nana’s over the moon. The band leader here knows Sinatra. She’s made him promise . . . hey, what’s wrong?”

There must still be something in my eyes, but I shake my head, forcing myself to smile. There’s no way that I’m going to let Violet know the comments my father just made about me and her. “Nothing. Just Dad had some business news. Nothing I can do about it until Monday, though.”

“Honey!” Mom says, her smile lighting up her face as she comes up. Dad’s words put a pall over her easy delight, though, making me question whether she thinks Violet’s too good for me too. Maybe she’s just this happy because she thinks Vi will finally get me to grow up. “Maria,” she says when she exchanges kisses with Violet’s mom, “it really has been too long. You look . . . you’re going to make a few trophy wives jealous tonight!”

“Oh, hush,” Maria says, still grinning. “Just make sure you only point me to the single men, okay?”

“Too bad you can’t show off your torta,” Sofia interjects, grinning. “Best way to a man’s heart is to let him nibble your pie!”

“Uhh . . . excuse me?” Mom says while I try not to laugh.

Leave it to Sofia’s blunt craziness to get me out of my head and into the moment. There will be time enough for self-recriminations later. For now, I need to remember that we are mid-show, the flashes of cameras reminding me that everyone’s watching.

“Mom, this is Violet’s Aunt Sofia,” I say, introducing the two. “She’ll tell it to you like it is, and she’s one of the best cooks I’ve ever met.”

“Knew Violet picked right,” Sofia says, giving me an almost starry-eyed smile. “Ross, if I were forty years younger—”

“You’d still be too old for him!” Nana teases, making everyone laugh.

Mom shows us to our table before someone calls her away for more duties. Pretty soon, all the guests have arrived and dinner is served. I’m encouraged when Mom, Abigail, and Courtney all join us at the same table, although when Dad joins us, his look is best described as stony.

“They got Taylor Richardson to speak this year,” I tell everyone for distraction, nodding toward the VIP table nearby, where the city’s most famous face sits next to the lieutenant governor and his wife.

Taylor gets up to make a speech, and while it’s cookie-cutter, pretty much fitting any charity event from ASPCA to the YMCA, he delivers it well, and there’s plenty of