Gift-Wrapped in Her Wedding Dress, page 13
Andie’s top priority was Dominic’s Christmas party. Actually, it was no longer just his party. As his fiancée, she had officially become co-host. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t flat-out with other bookings, including a Christmas Eve party for the parents of their first eighteenth party girl. Andie wanted to pull out all the stops for the people who’d given Party Queens their very first job. And then there was the business of being Dominic’s fake fiancée—almost a job on its own.
Andie had been ‘engaged’ to Dominic for ten days and so far so good. She’d been amazed that no one had seriously queried the speed at which she had met, fallen in love with and agreed to marry a man she had known for less than a month.
The swooning sighs of ‘love at first sight’ and ‘how romantic’ from her girlfriends she understood, not so much the delight from her pragmatic father and the tears of joy from her mother. She hardly knew Dominic and yet they were prepared to believe she would commit her life to him?
Of course it was because her family and friends had been worried about her, wanted her to be happy, had been concerned she had grieved for Anthony for too long.
‘Your dad and I are pleased for you, sweetheart, we really are,’ her mother had said. ‘We were worried you were so fearful about loving someone again in case you lost them, that you wouldn’t let yourself fall in love again,’ she’d continued. ‘But Dominic is so strong, so right for you; I guess he just broke through those barriers you’d spent so long putting up. And I understand you didn’t want to waste time when you knew what it was like to have a future snatched away from you.’
Really? She’d put up barriers? She’d just been trying to find someone worthy of stepping into Anthony’s shoes. Now she’d found a man who had big boots of his own and would never walk in another man’s shadow. But he wasn’t really hers.
‘You put us off the scent by telling us Dominic wasn’t your type,’ Gemma had said accusingly. Gemma, who was already showing her ideas for a fabulous wedding cake she planned to bake and decorate for her when the time came. Andie felt bad going through images of multi-tiered pastel creations with Gemma, knowing the cake was never going to happen.
Condition Number One, that she and Dominic didn’t ever tell anyone about the deception, seemed now like a very good idea. To hear that their engagement had been a cold-blooded business arrangement was never going to go down well with all these people wishing them well.
At last Wednesday’s family dinner, Dominic had been joyfully welcomed into the Newman family. ‘I’m glad you saw sense about how hot he was,’ her sister Bea had said, hugging her. ‘And as for that amazing rock on your finger... Does Dominic have a brother? No? Well, can you find me someone just like him, please?’
But every bit of deception was all worth it for Timothy. After the family dinner, Andie and Dominic had drawn Hannah and Paul aside. Now that Dominic was to be part of the family—or so they thought—her sister and her husband didn’t take much convincing to accept Dominic’s offer of paying all Timothy’s medical expenses.
Dominic’s only condition was that they kept him posted on their tiny son’s progress. ‘Of course we will,’ Hannah had said, ‘but Andie will keep you updated and you’ll see Timothy at family functions. You’ll always be an important part of his life.’ And the little boy had more chance of a better life, thanks to Dominic’s generosity.
Later, Hannah had hugged her sister tight. ‘You’ve got yourself a good man, Andie, a very, very good man.’
‘I know,’ said Andie, choked up and cringing inside. She was going to have to come up with an excellent reason to explain why she ‘dumped’ Dominic when his need for the fake engagement was over.
There had only been one awkward moment at the dinner. Her parents wanted to put an announcement of the engagement in the newspaper. ‘Old-fashioned, I know, but it’s the right thing to do,’ her mother had said.
She’d then wanted to know what Dominic’s middle name was for the announcement. Apparently full names were required, Andrea Jane Newman was engaged to Dominic who?
She had looked at Dominic, eyes widened by panic. She should have known that detail about the man she was supposedly going to marry.
Dominic had quickly stepped in. ‘I’ve kept quiet about my middle name because I don’t like it very much,’ he’d said. ‘It’s Hugo. Dominic Hugo Hunt.’
Of course everyone had greeted that announcement with cries of how much they loved the name Hugo. ‘You could call your first son Hugo,’ Bea had suggested.
That was when Andie had decided it was time to go home. She felt so low at deceiving everyone, she felt she could slink out of the house at ankle level. If it wasn’t for Timothy, she would slide that outsize diamond off her finger and put an end to this whole deception.
Dominic had laughed the baby comment off—and made no further mention of it. He’d wanted a baby with his first wife—how did he feel about children now?
Her family was now expecting babies from her and Dominic. She had not anticipated having to handle that expectation. But of course, since then, the image of a dear little boy with black spiky hair and grey eyes kept popping into her mind. A little boy who would be fiercely loved and never have to face the hardships his father had endured.
She banished the bordering on insane thoughts to the area of her brain reserved for impossible dreams. Instead, she concentrated on confirming the delivery date of two hundred and ten—the ten for contingencies—small red-and-white-striped hand-knitted Christmas stockings for Dominic’s party. They would sit in the centre of each place setting and contain all the cutlery required by that person for the meal.
She had decided on a simple red-and-white theme, aimed squarely at pleasing children as well as the inner child of the adults. Tables would be set up in the ballroom for a sit-down meal served from a buffet. She wanted it to be as magical and memorable as a Christmas lunch in the home of a billionaire should be—but without being intimidating.
Gemma had planned fabulous cakes, shaped and frosted like an outsize white candle and actually containing a tea light, to be the centrepiece of each table. Whimsical Santa-themed cupcakes would sit at each place with the name of the guest piped on the top. There would be glass bowls of candy canes and masses of Australian Christmas bush with its tiny red flowers as well as bowls of fat red cherries.
Andie would have loved to handle all the decorations herself but it was too big a job. She’d hired one of her favourite stylists to coordinate all the decorations. Jeremy was highly creative and she trusted his skills implicitly. And, importantly, he’d been happy to work on Christmas Day.
She’d been careful not to discuss anything too ‘Christmassy’ with Dominic, aware of his feelings about the festive season. He still hadn’t shared with her just why he hated it so much; she wondered if he ever would. There was some deep pain there, going right back to his childhood, she suspected.
The alarm on her computer flashed a warning at her the same time the alarm on her watch buzzed. Not that she needed any prompts to alert her that she was seeing Dominic this evening.
He had been in meetings with Walter Burton all afternoon. Andie was to join them for dinner. At her suggestion, the meal was to be at Dominic’s house. Andie felt that a man like Walter might prefer to experience home-style hospitality; he must be sick of hotels and restaurants. Not that Dominic’s house was exactly the epitome of cosy, but it was elegant and beautiful and completely lacking in any brash, vulgar display of wealth.
A table set on the terrace at the front of the house facing the harbour. A chef to prepare the meal. A skilled waiter to serve them. All organised by Party Queens with a menu devised by Gemma. Eliza had, as a matter of course, checked with Walter’s personal assistant as to the tycoon’s personal dietary requirements.
Then there would be Andie, on her best fiancée behaviour. After all, Mr Burton’s preference for doing business with a married man was the reason behind the fake engagement.
Not that she had any problem pretending to be an attentive fiancée. That part of the role came only too easily. Her heartbeat accelerated just at the thought of seeing Dominic this evening. He’d been away in different states on business and she’d only seen him a few times since the family dinner. She checked her watch again. There was plenty of time to get home to Newtown and then over to Vaucluse before the guest of honour arrived.
* * *
Dominic had been in Queensland on business and only flown back into Sydney last night. He’d met Walter Burton from a very early flight from the US this morning. After an afternoon of satisfactory meetings, Dominic had taken him back to his hotel. The American businessman would then make his own way to Vaucluse for the crucial dinner with Dominic and Andie.
As soon as he let himself in through the front door of the house Dominic sensed a difference. There was a subtle air of expectation, of warmth. The chef and his assistant were in the kitchen and, if enticing aromas had anything to do with it, dinner was under way. Arrangements of exotic orchids were discreetly arranged throughout the house. That was thanks to Andie.
It was all thanks to Andie. He would have felt uncomfortable hosting Walter Burton in his house if it weren’t for her. He would have taken him to an upscale restaurant, which would have been nice but not the same. The older man had been very pleased at the thought of being invited to Dominic’s home.
And now here she was, heading towards him from the terrace at the eastern end of the house where they would dine. He caught his breath at how beautiful she looked in a body-hugging cream top and matching long skirt that wrapped across the front and revealed, as she walked, tantalising glimpses of long slender legs and high heeled ankle-strap sandals. Her hair was up, but tousled strands fell around her face. Her only jewellery was her engagement ring. With her simple elegance, again she looked as if she belonged in this house.
‘You’re home,’ she said in that husky voice, already so familiar.
Home. That was the difference in his house this evening. Andie’s presence made it a home. And he had not felt he’d had a real home for a long time.
But Andie and her team were temporary hired help—she the lead actress in a play put on for the benefit of a visiting businessman. This was all just for show.
Because of Walter Burton, because there were strangers in the house, they had to play their roles—he the doting fiancé and she his betrothed.
Andie came close, smiling, raised her face for his kiss. Was that too for show? Or because she was genuinely glad to see him? At the touch of her lips, hunger for her instantly ignited. He closed his eyes as he breathed in her sweet, spicy scent, not wanting to let her go.
A waiter passed by on his way to the outdoor terrace, with a tray of wine glasses.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Andie murmured. For the waiter’s benefit or for Dominic’s? She sounded convincing but he couldn’t be sure.
‘Me too—missed you, I mean,’ he said stiffly, self-consciously.
That was the trouble with this deception he had initiated. It was only too easy to get caught between a false intimacy and an intimacy that could possibly be real. Or could it? He broke away from her, stepped back.
‘Is this another misbehaving skirt?’ he asked.
He resisted the urge to run his hand over the curve of her hip. It would be an appropriate action for a fiancé but stepping over the boundaries of his agreement with Andie. Kisses were okay—their public displays of affection had to look authentic. Caresses of a more intimate nature, on the other hand, were not okay.
She laughed. ‘No breeze tonight so we’ll never know.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Is there anything else you need to brief me about before Mr Burton arrives? I’ve read through the background information you gave me. I think I’m up to speed on what a fiancée interested in her future husband’s work would most likely know.’
‘Good,’ he said. ‘I have every faith you won’t let me down. If you’re not sure of anything, just keep quiet and I’ll cover for you. Not that I think I’ll have to do that.’
‘Fingers crossed I do you proud,’ she said.
Walter Burton arrived punctually—Dominic would have been surprised if he hadn’t. The more time he spent with his prospective joint venture partner, the more impressed he was by his acumen and professionalism. He really wanted this deal.
Andie greeted the older man with warmth and charm. Straight away he could see Walter was impressed.
She led him to the front terrace where the elegantly set round table—the right size for a friendly yet business orientated meal—had been placed against a backdrop of Sydney Harbour, sparkling blue in the light of the long summer evening. As they edged towards the longest day on December the twenty-second, it did not get dark until after nine p.m.
Christmas should be cold and dark and frosty. He pushed the painful thought away. Dwelling on the past was not appropriate here, not when an important deal hung in the balance.
* * *
Andie was immediately taken with Walter Burton. In his mid-sixties and of chunky build, his silver hair and close-trimmed silver beard gave him an avuncular appearance. His pale blue eyes actually sparkled and she had to keep reminding herself that he could not be as genial as he appeared and be such a successful tycoon.
But his attitude to philanthropy was the reason she was here, organising the party, pretending to be Dominic’s betrothed. He espoused the view that making as much money as you could was a fine aim—so long as you remembered to share it with those who had less. ‘It’s a social responsibility,’ he said.
Dominic had done nothing but agree with him. There was not a trace of Scrooge in anything he said. Andie had begun to believe the tag was purely a media invention.
Walter—he insisted she drop the ‘Mr Burton’—seemed genuinely keen to hear all the details of the Christmas party. He was particularly interested when she told him Dominic had actively sought to dampen press interest. That had, as intended, flamed media interest. They already had two journalists volunteer to help out on that day—quite an achievement considering most people wanted to spend it with their families or close friends.
Several times during the meal, Andie squeezed Dominic’s hand under the table—as a private signal that she thought the evening was going well. His smile in return let her know he thought so too. The fiancée fraud appeared to be doing the trick.
The waiter had just cleared the main course when Walter sat back in his chair, relaxed, well fed and praising the excellent food. Andie felt she and Dominic could also finally relax from the knife-edge of tension required to impress the American without revealing the truth of their relationship.
So Walter’s next conversational gambit seemed to come from out of the blue. ‘Of course you understand the plight of your Christmas Day guests, Dominic, as you’ve come from Struggle Street yourself,’ he said. ‘Yet you do your utmost to hide it.’
Dominic seemed shocked into silence. Andie watched in alarm as he blanched under his tan and gripped the edge of the table so his knuckles showed white. ‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ he said at last.
Walter’s shrewd eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve covered your tracks well, but I have a policy of never doing business with someone I haven’t fully researched. I know about young Nick Hunt and the trouble he got into.’
Dominic seemed to go even paler. ‘You mean the assault charge? Even though it never went to court. Even though I was a juvenile and there should be no record of it. How did you—?’
‘Never mind how I found out. But I also discovered how much Dominic Hunt has given back to the world in which he had to fight to survive.’ Walter looked to Andie. ‘I guess you don’t know about this, my dear.’
‘Dominic has told me about his past,’ she said cautiously. She sat at the edge of her seat, feeling trapped by uncertainty, terrified of saying the wrong thing, not wanting to reveal her ignorance of anything important. ‘I also know how very generous he is.’
‘Generous to the point that he funds a centre to help troubled young people in Brisbane.’ Andie couldn’t help a gasp of surprise that revealed her total lack of knowledge. ‘He hasn’t told you about his Underground Help Centre?’ Walter didn’t wait for her to answer. ‘It provides safe emergency accommodation, health care, counselling, rehab—all funded by your fiancé. Altogether a most admirable venture.’
Why had Dominic let everyone think he was a Scrooge?
‘You’ve done your research well, Walter,’ Dominic said. ‘Yes, I haven’t yet told Andie about the centre. I wanted to take her to Brisbane and show her the work we do there.’
‘I’ll look forward to that, darling,’ she said, not having to fake her admiration for him.
Dominic addressed both her and Walter. ‘When I started to make serious money, I bought the abandoned shopping centre site where I’d sought refuge as a troubled runaway and redeveloped it. But part of the site was always going to be for the Underground Help Centre that I founded. I recruited Jim, the social worker who had helped me, to head it up for me.’
Andie felt she would burst with pride in him. Pride and something even more heartfelt. He must hate having to reveal himself like this.
Walter leaned towards Dominic. ‘You’re a self-made man and I admire that,’ he said. ‘You’re sharing the wealth you acquired by your own hard work and initiative and I admire that too. What I don’t understand, Dominic, is why you keep all this such a big secret. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in having pulled yourself up by your bootstraps.’
‘I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done,’ Dominic said. ‘But I didn’t want my past to affect my future success. Especially, I didn’t want it to rub off on my business partner, Jake Marlow.’
Andie felt as if she was floundering. Dominic had briefed her on business aspects she might be expected to know about tonight, but nothing about this. She could only do what she felt was right. Without hesitation, she reached out and took his hand so they stood united.
