Page 38 of A Toast for Laurent
“I’d say yes, but I don’t want to lie.”
He offered me his arm, and I linked mine with his, holding a little tighter than necessary. He took the first step, and I followed his lead, moving in unison.
Rose pink, gold, and white balloons decorated the interior. Large vases sat on the tables with matching floral bouquets. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I could only imagine the spectacle the wedding would be.
People graced the chairs around the many tables as well as scattered throughout the venue, greeting others with smiles and laughs.
Laurent’s hand tightened on mine, and I closed my eyes, savoring the calming force that his presence sent through my body. It amazed me after all these years apart, he was my anchor in the storm, holding tight and keeping me from getting tossed up in the waves.
Marion spotted us, a smile plastered on her face. She moved with a confidence that begged people to watch her, and that’s exactly what she wanted.
She stopped in front of me, taking my hands and placing an air kiss on my cheek. “Phoebe and…” Marion smiled at Laurent, acting as if she’d never met him before and waiting for a proper introduction. After what Laurent had told me about the funeral, I wouldn’t be surprised if she erased their entire meeting from her mind.
“Marion, this is Laurent. I believe you two have met before.”
She placed her hand on her chest and tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Have we? I’m sorry I don’t remember.”
Laurent met her gaze with unwavering confidence. “At the funeral. You and I had a little chat.”
“Oh, that was so long ago, and I chatted with so many people that day. Everyone was devastated. I try not to remember sad things.” She waved her hand. “Anyway, it is a pleasure to meet you… again, I suppose.” She flashed a smile that was as fake as her boobs.
“Where’s my dad?” I asked.
“Probably sneaking food fromthehors d'oeuvretable.” She turned toward the room. “Parker is around here somewhere. You have to see her. She looks as gorgeous as ever. She’s been eating clean and going to the gym every morning. It’s done wonders for her complexion. You should talk to her about it.”
I bit my tongue. Marion was a pro at making digs without actually making a dig. I ignored the desire to run to the bathroom and make sure my makeup wasn’t cakey.
“Phoebe’s a runner. Runs every morning. There’s no better exercise than cardio,” Laurent said, and I shot a curious eye at him. I’d mentioned running to him, and it was nice he remembered.
“Actually, strength training and yoga does wonders. Wait until you see Parker.”
Laurent glanced at me his, blue eyes penetrating deep into my soul. “I think cardio does just fine for Phoebe.”
“Blinded by love, I see.”
Laurent’s jaw tightened, and I rested my hand on his chest, garnering his attention before he said something we’d both regret.
“What is it you do, Laurent?” Marion asked.
“I am the President of Sales at my family vineyard.”
“Oh, a family business. Isn’t that cute? Parker’s fiancé is a financial advisor to some of the wealthiest people in Boston. Maybe he can give you some tips.”
Laurent’s jaw turned to stone, and I was well aware my hand on my chest wasn’t going to stop him now. “I do just fine, thank you.”
“I’m sure you do, dear, but Garrett is a genius when it comes to finances. He can really help you level up. Unless that’s not something you’re interested in. I know the idea of money scares some people.”
“I’m not scared of money.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Laurent stiffened, his jaw ticking. I expected him to throw all his accomplishments in her face. Tell her how he expanded his family’s vineyard and how it was worth sixty million dollars, but he eased the tension in his jaw and smiled. “I’m not ashamed.”
Marion touched her French manicure to the dip of her dress. “As you shouldn’t be. Not all of us can be financial geniuses.”
Marion was ruthless, and if he didn’t walk away now, things were going to get worse. “I see my dad.” I turned my attention to Marion. “If you’ll excuse us.” I tugged Laurent away and headed toward thehors d'oeuvretable where Dad was shoveling shrimp into his mouth like it was an Olympic sport.
“Are you okay?” I asked Laurent as we made our way across the empty dance floor.