Page 53 of The Fiancé Hoax
Lily took my other hand. “Upstairs. Daddy's waiting for you up there.”
“Yeah, he's been acting really weird. He’s been in a spare room with some people for hours.”
I blinked. “Oh. Are you sure we should interrupt?”
Eva tugged harder on my hand. “He told us to bring you up there, silly!”
I laughed and let them lead me. “Okay.”
“Why are you knocking on the front door, anyway?” Eva asked as we climbed the stairs. I had to hustle to keep up with them. “Don’t you have a key?”
“Yeah, your dad gave me one. But I figure you guys are still getting used to having someone new in the house.”
“You live here now,” Lily said seriously.
I chewed my bottom lip. The girls were attached to me, and the feeling was mutual.
They led me down the long hallway past several rooms I’d never been in before. Cooper’s house was huge. I grew nervous as we walked.
What if Cooper was with some woman? Or two or three women? I had no idea what kind of crazy stuff the man got up to.
Dad had said he had a reputation.
I stopped in my tracks, my mouth dry. “Girls, we shouldn’t bother your dad. Maybe he’s busy.”
Eva and Lily ran to a shut door a few feet down the hall.
“He’s busy with some big surprise,” Eva said. “And I’m not waiting one second longer to find out what it is!”
She pounded on the door.
“Is Felicity here?” Cooper asked from inside the room.
“Yes, I’m here,” I said.
The door swung open. “Come in,” Cooper said. “We were just finishing up.”
The girls darted ahead of me. I entered behind them and gasped.
Cooper had converted the room into a sewing studio—for me and the girls.
The walls were covered with reams of fabric and sewing tools. A cutting station, complete with child and adult tools, stood in the corner. In the center of the room were three sewing stations.
“I want this one!” Eva called, descending upon a bright purple child’s sewing machine.
Cooper laughed. “Yes, that machine’s for you, Eva. And this one’s for Lily.”
Lily smiled as she looked at a tiny pink sewing machine, made just for a girl her size.
Behind them, the workers gathered up their tools. There were two woodworkers who had apparently built the racks and shelves. A prim older woman smiled as she watched the girls flutter around the room.
I clamped my hands over my mouth as I stopped in front of the adult sewing machine. “Is that a Sailrite Deluxe?”
“Yes, dear,” the woman said, walking up to me in her designer suit. “Your fiancé spared no expense. He told me he wanted the best of everything.” She flashed me a smile and extended her hand. “Julia Harrison, sewing consultant.”
“Felicity Hayes,” I murmured, feeling woozy. “Lovely to meet you.”
I looked from her to the machine, to Cooper. I’d always dreamed of a Sailrite, but had never been able to afford such a top-of-the-line sewing machine.