The Family Game by Catherine Steadman (6)

I feel my throat tighten at the thought of the type of person I actually am. But they can’t know that. They cannot know what happened to me on the edge of that road twenty years ago; I was alone.

I shudder, and Edward lifts my hands to his lips to blow warmth back into them. “If you’re worried about what they think about us, don’t be. My great-grandfather had all the money in the world, and he married a woman without a penny. Granted, he was the only one ever to do it—point is, there’s precedent.” He laughs at my reaction. “I know, I know, you’re hardly on the breadline! Plenty of pennies in bestselling author Harry Reed’s coffers. But you know what I mean,” he adds seriously. And I do, because whatever I have is only ever going to be a drop in the Holbeck ocean.

“Why did your great-grandfather choose a garnet? For Mitzi’s ring?” I ask.

“She loved pomegranates.”

I look down at the ring and smile. It looks just like the top of a ripe pomegranate seed.

“He knew he could make her happy and that she would do anything for him. They just fit. Two peas in a pod. And together no one could stop them,” Edward says, studying my expression.

I take him in, this fiancé of mine, in all his glory. Tall, athletic, in cashmere and tailored Italian wool, and I can’t hold back the grin. God knows how I found him. God knows how it got this far, this serious.

“When am I going to meet them?” I ask.

A smirk forms. “Apparently, my sister has been chosen to ease the transition. The powers that be have deemed her the most accessible family member to make an introduction,” he says jokingly. “After me, obviously.”

I can imagine Edward is the most normal—if that’s the right word—of the Holbecks. He’s clearly spent his life trying to be. After graduating from MIT, he actively moved away from the family business, handing his control of that side of things over to his brothers. He’s a self-made man—as much as a Holbeck descendant can ever be, that is. He established his own tech start-up and grew the company into what it is today. Although I’m sure the glamour of his surname can’t have hurt his success, alongside his intelligence and easy, affable charm.

“So I’m going to meet your sister first. Matilda?” He nods before I continue. “And she has my phone number?”

“Oh yes. That she does.” Edward grins. “She’s got your number, email address, actual address, dress size, blood type, donor consent status…kidding.”

I narrow my eyes. “I thought you said I shouldn’t be scared of her?”

“Oh no. You should definitely be scared of her. She’s absolutely terrifying, they all are; you’d be mad not to be. But I think you want this, don’t you? To be included, part of the family? A family?” He finds the answer in my eyes. “Just don’t change your mind about me after all this, that’s all I ask,” he says, then kisses the ring on my finger lightly and grins.





2


An Invitation


TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 22



“His family could literally be insane. You’ve never even met them and you’ve already agreed to marry into it. You have no idea what you’ve signed up for. As your agent and friend, I’ve got to say it’s dicey territory.”

I can’t help but bark out a laugh in spite of my throbbing head. Edward and I stayed out celebrating last night, and my champagne hangover is showing no sign of diminishing even after a pint of water and two paracetamols. I only rang Louisa for more details about my publisher meeting on Wednesday, but here we are. I wedge my mobile into a more comfortable position between my ear and shoulder and continue to tap away at my computer as I talk.

“Every family is crazy, though, right? In their own way. Money just highlights what’s already there.” I chuckle. “Plus, I’ve only agreed to be his fiancée. It’s hardly a legally binding contract.”

“Oh, okay? So, you’ll cut and run if they’re all mad as hatters then, will you?” she challenges.

I take a moment to genuinely consider how bad the Holbecks would have to be in order to put me off Edward. “No. You’re right,” I concede. “They could basically be the Fritzls and I’d still try to make it work with Ed.”

Louisa bursts out laughing. “I’m glad you’re in a place where you can admit that, at least. My God, that proposal though. Singing, dancing, Christmas. Wowzer. I’m surprised your head didn’t explode. No half measures there. You remember when Simon proposed to me? In our old back garden after breakfast? You and Ed make me sick.”

“Hey, it was snowing in your back garden. Give Si some credit. Though probably best you turned him down in the end, all things considered.”

“Yeah, I have quite the instinct for these things,” she jokes. “Which brings me back round to Ed’s family. Random Holbecks are just going to descend on you at some point, are they?” She must hear the sound of my keyboard, as she doesn’t wait for an answer. “Hey. Are you writing now? While I’m talking to you?” she asks, mock-incredulous, then cheers loudly.

I pull back from the noise, my hungover brain reeling. “Please, Lou, I am very tender today. No loud noises.”

“I’m just glad you’re getting sucked into the draft. I knew you’d rally,” she adds proudly.