Free Shopping for a CEO's Fiancee by Julia Kent Page B

“They’re so nice to stroke.”
    Amanda squeezes her eyes in a nonverbal tip I pick up instantly.
    Josh shouts, “Why is everyone talking about vaginas so much?”
    Josh clearly struggles with social cues.
    Pam pales. She matches Josh. Amanda helps her sit.
    “Va- va- va-” Pam sputters.
    “Speaking of vaginas,” Josh asks, “where’s Marie?”
    Non sequitur of the century.
    “She left. Took Jason, Carol and the boys home on the jet.” Dad insisted. Said that after what Jason did, returning $700,000 of his winnings in the high-stakes baccarat room, the man gets everything comped. I agree.
    “Did Amy ever make it?” Pam asks, clearly thrilled by the topic change.
    So am I.
    “No,” Amanda says with a pout. “Her new internship took longer than expected.” Amy is Shannon’s younger sister, and was part of the wedding party. She’s the type of young woman Anterdec would have in our intern program if Amy didn’t insist that she wasn’t “into nepotism,” whatever that means.  
    “Who knew that venture capitalist work could be so invasive for an intern,” Pam says with a sigh.
    “Oh,” Amanda says brightly. “She loves it. And she would have missed the wedding anyhow. She’ll be there for the presents, though!”
    “Presents?” I ask.
    “Shannon and Declan have more than six hundred presents waiting for them back home. Grace has them in storage. Marie’s inviting everyone to go to a party at Shannon and Declan’s place to open everything when we all get back home.”
    Parse that.
    And your brain burns.
    Dec has no idea what he’s coming home to.
    I grin.
    “Great!” My word makes Pam frown.
    “Six hundred gifts? It will take a week to open them all.”
    “All the more reason for Dec and Shannon to host a big, sprawling party!” I say, trying on enthusiasm, liking the idea that Dec will come home to a pre-arranged wedding-gift party in his apartment he has no choice but to throw. 
    Pam’s scrutinizing me. The woman appears to be able to sniff out irony like an IRS agent searching for a fake home office deduction.
    She’s my girlfriend’s mother, so I need to shift. Play it cool. Make a better impression.
    “How’s your room, Pam? Is the staff giving you everything you need?”
    “Your father sure is!”
    Josh leers. “You and James— ahem ?” He clears his throat meaningfully.
    Pam is either clueless or very, very sly, because she answers Josh as if he were asking the question straight. “Yes, James. He’s been so pleasant.”
    “You’re sure we’re talking about my father, James McCormick? Hair the color of ash, with an ego the size of Texas?”
    “He can be a bit gruff at times, but he’s taken a liking to Spritzy.”
    “Hope that’s all he’s taken a liking to,” Amanda mutters.
    “What did you learn?” Pam asks. “I assume no one is married to anyone.”
    We gape at her.
    “How did you know?”
    “Easy. First of all, Amanda’s a mystery shopper. She engages in behaviors that are crazy on the surface, but perfectly logical at heart. Second, you can’t legally marry a cat, and I knew that Chuckles didn’t have any ID and therefore couldn’t even try to get a marriage license.”
    “But—”
    “And third, Marie called me from a local strip club and asked me what to do about all of you standing at the bar shoving marriage licenses at the poor bartender. Apparently, you were quite intimidating, Andrew. You pushed a few hundred-dollar bills at him, insisting he sign the government documents and make them official.”
    Everyone slowly cranes their necks, looking at me.
    “What,” I ask her with as much dignity as a man can muster under the circumstances, “did you tell her?”
    “I contacted the concierge at Litraeon and they made fake documents for us. By the time those were done and ‘signed,’ you were both beyond reason. Accepted the papers.”
    “Both?” Amanda peeps. “Both? MOM! You’ve known the entire time that those were