Page 16 of Baby Proposal
“Rhys,” she breathes. “How did all this happen?”
It’s a riot of colour. The florist has excelled herself. She obviously didn’t have enough white flowers, or even flowers of one colour, so the terrace is coated with petals in a rainbow of hues, one into another, in patches. The gazebo looks like it’s made of flowers, mainly pale pastels compared to the more vibrant colours underfoot as we walk to the front where there is an officiant waiting.
Adi’s dress parts the flowers on the ground. It’s long and white and not as clingy to her perfect curves as I would have chosen for her, but her eyes shone when she saw it.
There’s applause, mainly from the care home staff scattered among the residents, as we approach.
“Grandma!” Adi lets out a little shriek of delight as she sees a woman in a chunky high-backed chair at the front.
“Go to her.” I relinquish my hold but Adi doesn’t, dragging me with her to her grandmother’s side. Then they’re hugging and my heart squeezes at seeing my girl so happy.
“Are you going to introduce me to your young man?” her grandmother asks, with a sardonic slant of an eyebrow.
“This is Rhys Cavendish,” she says, a bit shyly.
“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs Blake.” I give her what I hope is an ingratiating smile. I’ve never tried one before, so I shouldn’t be surprised when she looks down her nose at me, despite my standing over her. She has grey hair in a little bun and is wearing a scoop neck top and cardigan.
“I’m chucked all of a heap…” she says conspiratorially to Adi. “Where did you find this fine specimen?”
“Ah…” Adi meets my eyes and panic flares in hers. “He’s er…”
“We met at work.”
“Wouldn’t mind coming out of retirement if that’s the sort of men available in the workplace, nowadays,” Adi’s grandmother says, at full volume, to the woman next to her with white hair and dark skin who must be her friend.
“Let me look at you,” she demands. I step forward obediently. “Phssh, you’re up in the sky. Think I can get up a ladder to see you? Down here.” She flaps her hand to indicate I should come to her level.
As I kneel, Adi smothers a mortified laugh and says, “Grandma!”
Mrs Blake examines me, finger to my jaw, turning my head to and fro. “Hmmm. You could cut yourself on these cheekbones.”
“Daily problem,” I agree. “I sand them with a file.”
Her friend laughs openly at my joke and to the side, the officiant looks nervously between Adi and me. Mrs Blake isn’t amused, and glares at everyone, haughty as a queen.
“What makes you think you’re good enough for my granddaughter?”
“That’s not the case!” Adi puts her hand on my shoulder, and I don’t allow that moment to pass by.
I grab and hold it there, stroking my thumb over her knuckles reassuringly.
“Rhys is—”
“I’m not good enough for your granddaughter. But I’ll try.” I might be a billionaire mafia boss CEO, but she is clever and sweet and sexy and a whizz with digital presentation software.
Mrs Blake scoffs. “Has he put a bun in your oven, Adi? Is that why you’re marrying him? A bit old-fashioned, isn’t it?”
Adi groans and puts her hands over her face.
I stand, grinning, and pull Adi to my side. She fits right under my arm and her hand wraps around my waist, holding me like I might run away after being grilled by her grandmother.
Ha. Matriarchs are frightening, but not as scary as me.
“Not yet. But we’re going to get the heat cranked up and make some dough, don’t worry.”
“Well, I can see he’s handsome and has a few bob to spare. But is he kind? Hmm?” Mrs Blake seems to expect a reply, staring at me beadily even as she talks about me not to me, but doesn’t leave me space to answer. “Will he be a good father? Can he look after you?”
“I’ll make it my life’s mission to ensure your granddaughter’s happiness.”
