Page 12 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Elara closed her eyes for a moment, internally cringing at her parents’ barely veiled displeasure. A warm hand landed on Elara’s shoulder, prompting her to turn and look into Grandma Elle’s curious eyes. Eleanor leaned forward and placed a small kiss on Elara’s cheek.

Grandmother Eleanor’s face lit up, clearly entertained as she said loudly, “My, my. Elara finally brought someone around to meet us. You must be very special.”

Grace blushed as she took in everyone’s odd reaction to her greeting.

Eleanor closed both her hands around Grace’s, clasping hers gently. “You must be Grace. Such a warm greeting! I like you already. I’m Eleanor, but my grandkids call me Grandma Elle. You may call me that as well.”

Relief washed over Grace’s face as she smiled warmly. “Thank you, Grandma Elle. I’m so pleased to meet the matriarch of such a wonderful family.”

Elara’s palms were slick as she nervously reached out to snag Grace’s elbow. Luckily, the catering staff entered, breaking the tension as the savory aromas drew everyone’s attention away from Elara and Grace.

Cate clapped her hands. “Lunch! Looks delicious.”

The catering staff set cups of warm squash soup at each place setting and filled the center of the table with baskets of warm bread and fresh-churned butter. The bright pop of a cork being released filled the room as champagne flutes softly clinked with each serving poured.

Elara steered the conversation to the events of the day, hoping to keep her family too busy and well fed to inquire too deeply about her “relationship.” Everyone grew quiet as they dove into the main course of sous vide chicken and asparagus with a truffle beurre blanc. Elara had chosen her mother’s favorites for this lunch, hoping to set the tone for the week. She also had chosen to start their week off with a couple’s massage for everyone, further attempting to put everyone in a good mood and hopefully steer the week in a calm and productive direction. It also served to keep everyone separate, minimizing the chance for too many questions to be asked.

As the conversation eased to a close, Elara smiled with confidence. Maybe this ruse wouldn’t be so difficult to keep up with after all.

After lunch, Elara and Grace headed to the spa for their scheduled couple’s massage. The atmosphere was designed to relax—lowlights, soothing music, and lavender oil in the air—but Elara struggled to unwind. Even as the masseuse kneaded the tension from her back and shoulders, she mentally reviewed the evening’s agenda, determined to stay one step ahead. When she glanced over at Grace, sprawled face down on the massage table, she heard soft snores. Elara smirked despite herself, a flicker of amusement breaking through her usual reserved veneer. At least one of them was enjoying this.

Back in the suite, they began getting ready for the wine tasting and formal dinner. Elara dressed in a sleek, tailored black suit, forgoing a tie but leaving the top buttons of her white shirt undone, providing a peek at the platinum bar of her necklace laying flat beneath her collarbone. The outfit felt like armor—clean, precise, and unmistakably her. She checked her reflection, smoothing a hand over her silver-streaked hair, slicked back away from her eyes.

When Grace stepped out in an emerald green dress that clung to all the right places, Elara froze for half a second. She was caught off guard by how well Grace cleaned up—soft curls framing her face, the dress accentuating her curves. Elara’s gaze lingered a moment too long on the dip of Grace’s neckline, and she had to remind herself to blink.

“Do I look okay?” Grace asked, tugging at the hem nervously.

Elara cleared her throat, her voice steady, even as something stirred low in her stomach. “You look...fine.” She turned away, hiding the fact that her cool expression betrayed just the faintest flicker of heat in her eyes.

They left the suite together, Elara’s posture stiff and collected, as if bracing against the unknown. Yet the memory of Grace’s silhouette lingered, unwelcome and distracting, as they stepped into the evening together.

The wall separating the formal dining room from the larger event space had been removed, making room for all of the evening’s guests. The open space glittered with light bouncing from the crystal chandelier and candles on the tables. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, snow slowly fell, covering everysurface in a new dusting of white. The room hummed with the sounds of quiet conversations.

Elara took note of the guests who had arrived already. While this was her parents’ celebration of their fiftieth wedding anniversary, her father never passed up a chance to turn an event into a networking opportunity. The room was filled with real estate investors, private wealth clients, fund managers, and even a few of the local tourism board officials. James and his wife Julia stood with the president of the Lake Tahoe Tourism Board, clearly deep in conversation. As James caught sight of Elara and Grace’s entrance, he excused himself and headed over to greet them.

James nodded in Elara’s direction and then turned his gaze upon Grace. “You’ve got your hands full with Elara, don’t you? Did she even go to your couple’s massage?” With a chuckle, he grasped Elara’s shoulder. “This one needs to loosen up a bit more.”

Elara bristled, prepared to make a jab back at James, but paused when Grace’s face broke into a genuine smile as she laughed at his good-natured teasing.

“She certainly did go to the massage with me. Although she could’ve slipped out without me noticing. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep five minutes in.”

James’s face broke into a beaming smile, laughing as he turned his gaze back to Elara. “Come join Julia and I for the wine tasting. I know my wife is excited to meet you, Grace.”

Before James could corral Grace into the family corner, Elara grabbed her hand, stopping her from following.

“We’ll join you in a bit. There are a few people I must say hello to first.”

James took note of the brisk tone in Elara’s voice and the way she grasped Grace’s hand. His smile began to slip before a knowing look passed over his face.

“You can’t avoid the family all night, Elara.” James turned back to Grace, continuing, “Grace, I’m sure Elara’s told you about the family dinner tradition. It’s always…quite the spectacle. I look forward to seeing more of you two tonight.”

Before James could rile her up any further, Elara turned on her heel, dragging Grace along toward the nearest business associate. Every few minutes, Elara would feel the pressure of her family’s scrutiny, noticing their curious eyes watch her every move. Grace’s every move.

The dinner was served on elegant tables, each course paired with a wine that the sommelier described the tasting notes and how it paired with their meal. After the third course, many of the guests were tipsy, the conversation ebbing and flowing with ease. Not usually one to drink, Elara drained her glass, grateful for the warmth that eased the tension of the evening. She was feeling rather confident, having tactfully avoided questions about her relationship and kept her family entertained and distracted. After dessert was served, Elara began to make excuses for her and Grace to head to bed.

As she held her hand out to Grace in an attempt to help her up, Grandma Elle piped up. “I see the happy new couple is eager to snuggle and warm up on this snowy evening.”

Although her words teased a blush out of Grace, Elara could see the mischievous glint in her eyes and her cunning grin. Elara stiffened, fearing Grandma Elle was suspicious, but not knowing how to convince her. Unable to find words that would suffice, Elara simply began to usher Grace out of the room.

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