52. PURRFECT MODEL
CHAPTER 1
It should have been the happiest day of Laia’s young life. The day she was to introduce her future husband to her parental unit. And it probably would have been the day that all the world waited with bated breath to see who Mr. Lucky was, if it hadn’t been for one small snag: the response of Mr. and Mrs. Twine, which wasn’t as ecstaticas it could have been. In actual fact, it was anything but.
And it had all started so well. She’d phoned Mommy and told her she had a nice surprise in store. She should have known not everything was as it should have been, for Mommy’s response had been remarkably lacking in the kind of warm excitement a future bride likes to see. But she’d ignored it and had ascribed it to Mommy being in a bad mood, as tended to happen more often lately.
Jay must have realized something was amiss, for he’d immediately said, “Maybe we should postpone, my blossom.”
“No, we’re doing this now,” she had told him. They’d waited long enough, in her estimation. They had, after all, been engaged for all of two weeks, and had known each other exactly three months, which meant something. She’d never been with one guy for longer than a couple of weeks before,so three months told her that Jay was for keeps, and was to be the man next to whom she wanted to wake up for the rest of her life. The man whose face she would see looking back at her across the breakfast table, asking her to pass the maple syrup and strawberry jam. Like Mommy and Daddy, who’d been happily married now for twenty-five years.
It was the kind of eternal bond she had always envisioned for herself. The kind of marital bliss she’d always known would someday be in the cards for her as well.
On the drive over, Jay remarked,“Maybe you shouldn’t tell them we’re engaged. Maybe introduce me as a good friend instead. Then we can gradually work our way up to being boyfriend and girlfriend, and eventually spring the marriage thing on them.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said as she steered the car along the familiar route. “My parents are modern people. They have always raised me to be independent and follow my own path. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to hear I’m getting married.”
“If you say so,” her fianc? murmured, clearly not entirely convinced.
The little car hurtled along the road, and she wondered if her parents would buy her a new car now that she had reached this milestone in a young girl’s life. Or maybe even a new apartment?
They still thought that she was living in her own flat, for which they paid rent, but the truth was that she had given up the flat and had moved in with Jay, pocketing the rent herself and spending it on some necessary repairs that had made Jay’s loft more suitable for a young couple in love. Minor things like a working gas heater and decent plumbing. And of course mending that hole in the roof. The incessant cooing of a family of pigeons who had come to regard part of the loft as their personal home had been a romantic notion at first, but not so much when it rained and she’d woken up from a cold shower one morning.
Jay was an artist, of course, and artists don’t care about such minor practical inconveniences, focusing on their art first and foremost, and probably not even noticing things like a leaky roof. But Laia, who’d grown up in outrageous riches, had found the sudden descent into the bohemian life jarring to say the least.
It was one of the reasons she’d decided to come clean, and admit that she was to become Mrs. Jay Green very soon now. She wanted to return to the kind of lifestyle to which she’d grown accustomed, and even though she knew in her heart of hearts that it was only a matter of time before Jay would become a star and money would start pouring in, just for the present the impecunious young couple could use a nice big influx of cash. The kind that only Daddy could supply.
They finally arrived at the trusty old homestead, and Jay’s response to seeing the old pile was simply endearing.
“Jeez—exactly how rich are your parents?”
“Moderately rich,” she said with a touch of satisfaction as she steered the car down the long drive, Twine Manor gleaming robust and proud in the distance.
“No, but I mean, are we talking millionaire or billionaire?”
“Not billionaire, I don’t think,” she said. She glanced over to her betrothed, giving him a critical once-over and trying to see him as her mother would. For the occasion she’d made him wear a decent pair of pants, and the nicest sweater in his possession. She’d even sent him to get a haircut, and he’d never looked better. With his natural boyish charm, and the floppy flair that was a hallmark of his artistic persona, and which had attracted her to him in the first place, she was absolutely convinced he would appeal to Mommy and Daddy.
