Free This Tangled Thing Called Love: A Contemporary Romance Novel by Marie Astor

that were spread all over her desk – a task far easier said than done. As she stared at the endless lines before her, her mind kept thinking about the upcoming weekend. She barely got any sleep last night, spending most of the night agonizing over what to pack for the trip. David had been no help either. When she had asked him about what to bring, he simply replied that she should pack a weekend bag. Now what did that mean? Was there a special kind of bag to be packed when going to the Lawsons ’ house? Perhaps this was the beginning of the test she would have to pass to determine whether she belonged among the Lawsons after all.
    Stop it , Claire thoug ht . Y ou’re getting paranoid . David was not like that. Sure, he could seem to be a bit uptight occasionally, but that was more because, despite his affluence and good looks, he was shy. Granted, he was not shy when it came to giving speeches in the corporate boardroom or pitching to investors, but socially, when he was out of his element, he could be shy, and Claire found that endearing. There were a lot of things she found endearing about David: the way he looked at her with his dark blue eyes, the way his blond hair fell against his boyish face, the way he stood tall and confident, all six feet two inches of him. But Jake’s comment had caught her off guard and now she could not stop thinking about it: When a girl loves a guy, she should be going gaga at the prospect of him proposing, not getting all jumpy.
    Was she jumpy? Yes, she was. There was no denying it, but that did not mean there was anything wrong with her feelings for David. The prospect of spending the weekend at David’s parents’ house made her jumpy because she wanted to make a good impression – because she loved David and wanted his family to accept her. And who said that David was going to propose this weekend anyway? Up until today, the possibility had not even entered her mind, but now, thanks to Jake, she was agonizing over the possibility. To her mind, an engagement was an intimate matter, and she hoped that if David were ever going to ask her, he would pop the question in private.
    In the middle of the day, Claire’s phone rang. It was Lindsay.
    “Just calling to wish you happy anniversary.”
    “Thanks. I need all the moral support I can get.”
    “Oh, relax! It’s going to be fine. David’s folks will adore you.”
    “I don’t think that the term ‘adore’ is in their vocabulary. But please keep your fingers crossed for me.”
    “So, have you packed your bag yet?”
    “Partially. I have no idea what to take with me. I packed a cocktail dress, a pair of shorts, and flip-flops.”
    “That’s a start,” Lindsay observed. “But seriously, here’s what you do: the cocktail dress is a must, so you can check that off the list, but you’ll also need something casual but dressy that you could wear during the day – a nice skirt or slacks and a flowing blouse. You know, the kind of thing Ralph Lauren would put on the cover of his catalogue. Did David mention any activities?”
    “He did say that they have a tennis court…”
    “So pack a tennis outfit. Make sure it’s white, though.”
    “I can’t remember the last time I played.”
    “Then just sit the game out – but don’t you go near the court in something other than white.”
    “What is this, the 1900s?”
    “Do you want to make a good impression or what?”
    “Yes. Sorry. Thanks, Lindsay.” Claire knew that Lindsay’s advice came from experience. She had dated Matthew Prince, III of Hartford, Connecticut for two years. In the looks department, Matthew was nothing to write home about. He did not possess the physique of an Abercrombie and Fitch model, nor did he have any striking facial features to speak of, but he was incredibly smart and attentive to Lindsay. Matthew ran a slew of hedge funds that had been started by his father, Matthew Prince, II who was on a first name basis with most politicians and was