Page 206 of Love Arranged
Trevor was interviewed as well, but his answers were lacking, so if he gets upset about the front-page piece, he can only blame himself. But in order to do that, it would require him being self-aware and holding himself accountable, and if the article proves anything, it’s that he lacks those abilities.
I’m not the only one who thinks so. According to the polls, which come out the next week, the town agrees with me because for the first time, Lorenzo is in thelead.
55
LILY
My sister insisted on us getting ready for the engagement party at Lorenzo’s house because she thought it would save us the trouble of having to drive over there. We’re the type to run late to everything, so I agree.
Lorenzo paid for a team of people to help us with hair and makeup, so Dahlia, Josefina, my mom, and I get the full work-up. Josefina suggested I use the same people for my wedding day, and I nod along, knowing full well it will be a while before that.
I’m trying to take our relationship slow, although it doesn’t help that to the public, we’re engaged.
Lorenzo on the other hand has fully embraced his status as a fiancé, even going so far as handpicking my engagement-party dress. It is perfect, with the baby-pink dress nearly looking white in certain angles.
There is a note attached to the tag, and I escape into the bathroom to read it.
I couldn’t picture you wearing anything but your favorite neutral.
There is no signature, but I could recognize Lorenzo’s fancy scrawl anywhere.
My sister pounds on the door to remind me of the time, and I force myself to put the note away and get dressed. The midi dress fits like the seamstress had my exact measurements in mind.
When I step out of the bathroom, three gasps fill the air.
“Que belleza,”my mom says at the same time as Josefina’s,“Mira ese vestido.”
My sister says nothing since her mouth is hanging wide open while she gawks at my new shoes—another hand-chosen gift from Lorenzo.
“How are you going to walk outside in those?” she asks.
“I’m sure that was Lorenzo’s intention.” He loves for me to cling to him almost as much as he likes carrying me when my heels start sinking into the ground.
My mom checks her phone and shrieks. “We’ve got to go!”
“Relax,” Dahlia says.
“The party is right outside,” I remind them.
All three of them look at each other like a perfectly-timed sitcom.
“What?” I ask.
“The party isn’t here,” Dahlia responds without saying anything else.
Everyone ignores my questions as we all climb into Dahlia’ssedan and head toward the south side of town. Dahlia pulls onto Lopez Lane, which is pretty empty.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“They’ll be here in an hour.”
I’m too shocked by the time change to ask any more questions, so I stay silent as my sister parks in front of our house.
“Wait here for Lorenzo,” Dahlia says before disappearing into the house with my mom and Josefina.
It takes a few minutes, but my fiancé walks through the side gate with a breathtaking smile on his face, wearing a form-fitting, navy-blue sports coat and light-colored pants that bring the outfit together.
He also happens to be wearing loafers that remind me of the pair I accidentally ruined.
