Page 29 of The Bad Wedding Date

“That’show you make your money.”

“What money?”

“Come on…” I gestured to every part of him. “The tattoos alone run into the thousands. I may not have had any myself, but I know how much they cost. Add in the sharp suit, the obviously expensive watch, the spotless shoes you’re wearing, and the fact that you were supposed to be in The Savoy on business—whatever the hell that means, even though you assured me you’re no male escort—I think it’s fair to say you don’t go without.”

“Maybe I just mask my poverty well.”

“I don’t think you’re the kind of person to hide anything about who you are, actually.”

Fraser brought his drink to his mouth, eyeing me the entire time as he took a slow, controlled sip, giving nothing away before he dropped it back down to the table and rubbed his lips together.

Unfortunately for us, our bubble of peace and privacy didn’t last long before it was interrupted by the sound of my mother.

“Lottie, you haven’t introduced us formerly,” she sang, leaning over the table and flashing one of those sweet yet sinister smiles of hers.

Fraser laid a look on me, but I closed my eyes and tried to count to ten to prepare myself for whatever the hell was to come.

“I’m Laurie Grant,” Mum said, and when I looked up again, she was holding out her hand for Fraser to take, as thoughhewas the privileged one. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“Fraser,” he said, taking her hand and offering her an out of this world smile in return. One that I immediately felt envious of for reasons I couldn’t quite work out. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Grant. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Not from Lottie, I hope. It can’t possibly have been any good coming from her.”

I stared at her through hooded eyes. “I am here, you know.”

“Well aware of that, dear. We’ve written a letter to her majesty the queen to recommend you to be on her honours list for next year because of the effort you’ve made to be here for your only sister’s wedding.” She turned to me slowly, her smile growing tight.

Everyone has that one person who makes them cower more than the rest, and my mother happened to be mine. My mind raced with a book’s worth of insults to throw her way, but not only did Mum hold a wicked tongue, she also happened to play the biggest victim the world had ever seen whenever it suited her. No matter what you did, winning wasn’t an option when your opponent happened to be Laurie Grant. Experience had taught me that it was better to stay quiet and hope she went away.

“I love my daughter, Fraser, but she’s always been a bit of a loose cannon. I don’t think anyone expected her to actually be here today,” Mum said, leaning closer to Fraser as though they were two best friends sharing a secret.

“Is that why you invited her ex-boyfriend?” he asked calmly.

I looked at him sharply, unable to believe what he’d said and the tone in which he’d said it.

“Who, Penn? No,” Mum chortled. “He happens to be a dear family friend. He’s always been on the guest list.”

“Probably before I was,” I muttered under my breath, but Mum caught it and rolled her eyes.

“Just because you two had a fling all those years ago doesn’t mean that we had to say goodbye to someone we’d grown fond of.”

“A fling? I spent two years with the guy, and he cheated on me for practically all of it.”

Mum tinkered with her perfectly sprayed hair. “You were both kids, neither one of you exactly innocent.”

“The only thing I happened to be guilty of was wasting my time on him.”

“Always with the dramatics, Lottie.”

“Charlotte.”

“See?” Mum raised a brow. “You even try to tell me what I chose to call you at birth.”

“As long as my birth certificate says Charlotte, your argument is invalid.”

“Oh, darling, I’m not arguing. I don’t waste my time on the efforts of that. I’m stating facts whether you like them or not. You always have and always will be our Lottie.”

I was building up to lash out for many reasons; the main being my need to demand that she admit to being wrong about my relationship with Penn, or at least to be joking, but then Fraser’s hand slipped under the table, and the gentle squeeze of his palm over my knee made my breath stutter.

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