Page 60 of One Wealthy Wedding

“Want to be bad?” I smile at her.

“How bad?”

“A little bad.” Actually, quite bad, but I’m not telling her that. I turn to a passing waiter and grab two glasses of champagne from a tray. “I dare you.” I wag my brows. Cat Peterson could never resist a dare.

“Fine.” She holds out her hand.

“That’s my girl.” I pass her a glass. “Let’s go. Take my arm.” She takes it, and I steer her toward her father. “We’re going to stumble again, and your drink is going straight onto those obscenely expensive loafers he’s wearing. Penny loafers to a black-tie event should be a crime.”

Cat huffs a laugh. “You’re a snob, Theo Archer.”

“A well-dressed one,” I toss back.

We stroll closer to where her father is cozying up to a man I don’t recognize. He’s ignoring us, the ass. When we’re too close to ignore, he turns to us with a fake smile.

“Catherine. Theo. I heard the happy news.” He doesn’t offer congratulations, and his eyes are flat. Cat is shaking.

“I wish I could say it was a pleasure,” I respond.

He ignores me, turning to his daughter with hard eyes. “The Archer boy. Really, Catherine?” The Archer boy. The words are a cold stone in my stomach, a reminder that he doesn’t think I’m good enough.

“Not this again,” she says.

Again? What does again mean? Did Catherine talk to her father about the marriage? I’d assumed she wasn’t in touch with him, but perhaps she was. Perhaps she is going to run back to her parents in a few weeks, whenever this dispute with her father is over.

“Your marriage won’t last. If it’s even a real marriage.” His face takes on a vicious cast. “There’s still time to marry Arnold, if he’ll have you.”

Cat freezes. I squeeze her hand. She takes one lurching step and tips her drink onto his shoes. “Oh my gosh, I’m so clumsy.” Her shock is perfect, her stumble looked real. Brilliant. I nearly smile, but instead grab a passing waiter to ask for a napkin.

While her father is wiping his shoes, Cat and I make our escape, scooping up our jackets and hustling out into the night air. When we get outside, she whirls. Her face is viciously satisfied.

“That was awesome.”

I hold my hand up for a high five, and she smacks it.

“Oh, he so deserved that.” She shakes her whole body. “That was fucking great.”

“Is that on your list?”

“No, but it should be. I’ll add it when I get home.”

“The list can be expanded, then?” An idea takes shape as we wait for Daniel in the cold air.

She cocks her head. “Of course it can be.”

“What if we did it together?” My pulse speeds. This is a good idea. A great one, even. Kill two birds with one stone—get Cat to open up to me and sell this marriage better than we have been.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she says slowly.

Daniel pulls up with the car, and I usher Cat inside. As we move smoothly into traffic, I turn to her. A few more tendrils of hair have escaped around her face, and her lip gloss is gone, though her lips are still that enticing pink. Cat has always entranced me. When I was twenty, I used to stare at her mouth when she talked. That freckle drew my eye. Looks like it still does. I clear my throat awkwardly.

“Think about it,” I say. “We don’t know each other. We can’t even respond to a simple question about what we like to do together. If you don’t want your to father to challenge this marriage, we need to be a team. A real team. We’re going to get to know each other. We’re going to do the list. We will see and be seen.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but I keep going.

“We’ll have stories to tell when we’re having drinks with my investors. You’ll tell me about yourself. We’ll be open and communicative and coupley.”

She makes a face at my final words.

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