Page 47 of Always Knew It Was You

“It’s okay,” I say to end that conversation. “So now what? More sitting lessons?”

He hesitates, appearing a little taken aback by my abruptness before he answers. “Yup. And we’re also going to talk about conversation starters, and what to not do at tomorrow’s gala.”

I sigh. It sounds like it’s going to be a long night.

And the following day is a whirlwind of activity as well. Breakfast is at an upscale country club where he teaches me proper table etiquette. Then after, we visit a woman who teaches me how to walk and wave like the queen. It doesn’t sound like much, but there’s a whole lot of things to remember.

And then comes the moment of truth.

The night of the governor’s gala.

“Don’t be nervous,” he tells me as the limo pulls into the front of a hotel. There’s a legit red carpet rolled out with limos lining up at each side, releasing their inhabitants. Elegantly dressed patrons step out in suits and long sparkly dresses. One by one they laugh and go around to meet each other, showing off outfits and jewelry with enough dazzle to rival the stars.

And they’re all dressed tastefully too. Not too much skin, nor too much bling. Everything is done exactly right.

I’m suddenly grateful for Micah’s stylist who put together my outfit for the day. I wouldn’t have felt confident walking out otherwise.

“Shall we?” Micah says as the two valets open our limo doors.

I inhale deeply. “Here goes nothing.”

The Silver Dais Hotel exudes luxury, a neoclassical building stretching high into the sky, with a grand entrance bordered by large stone columns. Numerous stairs lead up to the sweeping arches and each has intricate detailing on the sandstone. As we slowly ascend, I try to remember all my lessons all at once, so I don’t make a fool of myself.

“Micah!” a woman screams from afar, and before I can examine where the voice is coming from, I’m hit by a gust of wind and Arabian-scented perfumes as a short woman jumps into Micah’s arms.

The strawberry blonde woman hugging Micah wears a shorter, pretty A-line dress with a sweetheart neckline. As she steps back, I take in the intricate detailing at the hem. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I didn’t know I was coming either, short stuff,” Micah laughingly responds as she pouts.

“You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“I know. That’s why I do it.”

I feel slightly out of place, but then Micah wraps his arm around my waist again, physically and metaphorically dragging me back into the conversation. “Sweetie, this is Ally, an old friend from boarding school. Ally, this is my fiancée, Carlette.”

I nearly snicker at the name. Micah thought that Carlette sounded a lot fancier, and while I agree, it also has a ridiculous ring to it.

“Just Carly is fine,” I tell the woman. “Only my enemies call me Carlette.”

The woman gapes at us for a full ten seconds. “Shut up. You’re getting married?”

“It seems so.”

“Oh, God. Jamie isn’t going to believe this. Jameson, get over here! Micah is getting married.”

Jameson happens to be a larger bear of a man, who’s also Ally’s husband. He’s a lot quieter than his wife but smiles pleasantly as she chatters along, telling me all about Micah’s past misdeeds in every single relationship he’s ever had.

“Seriously,” she says. “I never thought he would keep a steady girlfriend much less get married. How on earth did this happen?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure myself. The whole thing feels a little bit like a whirlwind.”

Micah smiles. “Sweetie, don’t do that. You’ll make my friends think you don’t actually want to marry me.” There’s a warning sharpness in his voice.

“I do,” I respond. “It’s just… hearing all about your past does give me pause.” I figure that to sell this story as well as possible, I have to act as realistic as possible. And any reasonable woman will likely have reservations after hearing all those stories.

And his friends don’t even attempt to defend him.

As Micah raises an eyebrow, Jameson says, “She’s smart.”

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