Grace and Dion hop into his Jaguar, her eyes wide as saucers. It's her first rodeo in such a fancy ride, and she's itching to squeal with delight. But one look at Dion's face - stiff as a board and about as friendly - has her swallowing her excitement like a bitter pill.
'Right, this isn't some fairy tale,' she reminds herself. 'We're actors in a year-long play. No happily ever after here, folks!'
After a drive that feels longer than Grace's list of dream vacations, they screech to a halt in front of Opulent Attire. Grace's jaw drops faster than her bank balance on payday. This place is the stuff of legends - where the rich and famous go to sprinkle their gold dust.
She's about to explode like a glitter bomb at a unicorn party. But Dion's face remains frozen in 'I'd rather eat a cactus' mode. Grace deflates like a sad balloon, tucking her enthusiasm into a mental shoebox.
'Easy, girl,' she thinks. 'This gig's as temporary as a sandcastle at high tide.'
Stepping out of the car, Grace feels like she's landed on another planet. Fancy folks swish in and out of the shop, and she's suddenly hyper-aware of her decidedly un-fancy duds. She stands there, frozen like a popsicle, her brain doing somersaults.
"Planning on growing roots out here?" Dion barks. "I'm not your personal shopper, you know."
Grace scampers after him like a puppy chasing a speeding car. His legs seem miles long, and she's practically jogging to keep up.
"Mind slowing down to human speed?" she pants.
"Nope," Dion replies, popping the 'p' like a bubble of indifference.
"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine," Grace mutters. "Is this how you treat your knight in shining polyester?"
Dion stops so abruptly that Grace nearly face-plants into his back. He turns, fixing her with a look that could curdle milk. "Knight? Please. This fake marriage is as much a fairy tale as I am a hopeless romantic - it's all business, sweetheart."
As he strides off again, Grace fights the urge to stick out her tongue.
'What have I gotten myself into?' she wonders. Then she remembers her mom, and her resolve hardens. 'Right. Operation Save Mom is a go. Even if it means dealing with Mr. Charming here.'
Dion hates shopping with women. He thinks they take forever to choose what they want. But here's the kicker - Dion has no clue it takes him eons to pick out a plain white shirt. Truth bomb: women can actually shop faster than Dion. So if a gal goes shopping with him, she's left tapping her foot so long she could start a dance craze, all while waiting for Mr. Indecisive to make up his mind.
"Hey, sweetheart," Dion flashes his pearly whites at a shop girl, "mind helping my fiancée pick out some nice dresses?" The girl's face lights up like a Christmas tree.
"Of course, sir," she gushes, ready to move mountains for Dion. Then her eyes land on Grace, and her smile does a disappearing act faster than a magician's rabbit. She blushes redder than a tomato.
"This way, miss," she says, all prim and proper. Grace feels a wave of relief washes over her. She'd been bracing for the cold shoulder, thinking they'd sniff out her empty wallet. But nope, there's no ice queen treatment here. The staff's warmer than a fresh-baked cookie, leaving Grace more shocked than if Dion had suddenly burst into song.
"So, what kind of dresses are you after?" the girl asks.
Grace fidgets nervously. "I'm meeting my fiancé's father and his family. So, something that screams 'future daughter-in-law' material without yelling 'trying too hard.'
YOU ARE READING
Love on the Dotted Line
RomanceIn a family where inheritance is contingent upon marriage, a father's will requires all his children to be married before receiving their shares. With the clock ticking, the siblings and their spouses scramble to find a suitable bride for their youn...
