Chapter 15 FIFTEEN
Patricia's mansion was in Greenwich, which meant an hour drive through Connecticut suburbs that got progressively more high-end. Lennox watched the houses get bigger through the car window, her stomach doing somersaults.
"Stop fidgeting," Callum said without looking at her. He was reading something on his phone, totally calm.
"I'm not fidgeting."
"You've touched your bracelet seventeen times in the last ten minutes."
Right. Her supposed nervous habit that he'd made up and she'd apparently adopted for real.
Lennox forced her hands into her lap. "What if I mess up? Say something wrong?"
"You won't." Callum finally looked up from his phone. "You've memorized everything. Just remember the timeline and answer naturally."
"Naturally. Right. Because there's nothing more natural than reciting fake relationship details to your fake fiancé's family."
"Lennox."
"Sorry. I'm just..." She took a breath. "Your mother already thinks something's off about me."
"My mother thinks something's off about everyone. Don't take it personally." He reached over, adjusted her necklace slightly. His fingers brushed her collarbone and she tried not to react. "You look perfect. Stop worrying."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't about to be interrogated by people who'd known him his entire life.
The mansion was stupid big. Not like penthouse big, but actual mansion big with columns and a circular driveway. Lennox felt underdressed even though she was wearing one of the dresses Patricia had picked out, the emerald one that cost more than her old monthly rent.
A woman who was definitely not Patricia answered the door. Housekeeper, maybe. She led them through a foyer with a chandelier that probably cost more than Lennox's college education, down a hallway with actual oil paintings, into a dining room that could've been in a museum.
Patricia was already there, wearing cream-colored everything and pearls. So were two other people Lennox recognized from her flashcards. Cole, looking exactly like Callum but somehow different in ways she couldn't quite name, and a blonde woman in her thirties who had to be Cousin Margot.
"Darling!" Patricia came over, kissed Callum's cheek, then turned to Lennox. "And Lennox, how lovely. That dress looks wonderful on you."
"Thank you. Your home is beautiful."
"Oh, this old place." Patricia waved dismissively like the mansion was nothing. "Come, meet everyone properly."
Cole stood when they approached. He was tall like Callum, same sharp blue eyes, but where Callum was all controlled ice, Cole seemed a bit more relaxed.
"So you're the mysterious Lennox," he said, shaking her hand. His grip was firm, assessing. "I'm Cole. The better-looking twin."
"Debatable," Callum said drily.
"Not to anyone with eyes." Cole smiled but didn't let go of her hand right away. "Three months is pretty fast. Must have been quite the whirlwind."
"When you know, you know," Lennox said, pulling her hand back. That seemed to be her default answer for everything.
"Apparently." Cole's eyes didn't leave her face. "I'm surprised Callum kept you hidden away for so long. That's not like him."
"We wanted privacy."
"For three months?" His tone was light but the question wasn't. "While dating my brother? That's impressive dedication to privacy."
Callum's hand settled on the small of Lennox's back. "We're here now. That's what matters."
"Of course." Cole's smile didn't waver. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Callum usually tells me everything."
The emphasis on usually was slight but there. A reminder that Callum had kept this secret even from his twin, probably not for long as Callum had earlier indicated.
Margot saved them by coming over with a drink. "Don't mind Cole, he's suspicious of everyone. I'm Margot, second cousin, professional third wheel at family dinners."
She was easier, warmer. They made small talk about nothing important while Patricia directed them to the table. Lennox ended up between Callum and Cole, which felt weirdly strategic. Like she was being boxed in.
The first course was some kind of soup that Lennox couldn't identify. She watched Callum to see which spoon he used, then copied him.
"So Lennox," Patricia said from the head of the table. "Tell us about your family. Where are you from originally?"
Here we go.
"Pennsylvania. Small town outside Pittsburgh. My mom still lives there."
"And what does she do?"
"She's a nurse. Well, she was. She's retired now." All true, which made it easier to say.
"And your father?"
Lennox's chest tightened slightly. "He passed away when I was sixteen. Heart attack."
Patricia's expression softened. "I'm so sorry, dear. That must have been difficult."
"It was. But we managed."
"Siblings?"
"One. My younger sister Emma. She's in college now, studying to be a teacher."
"How lovely. You must be proud of her."
"I am." That was true too. Emma was the one good thing that had come out of all the chaos in Lennox's life.
"And your education?" This was Margot, cutting her soup delicately. "Where did you study?"
"Penn State. Finance degree."
"Not Ivy League?" Patricia's tone was carefully neutral but Lennox heard the judgment anyway.
"No. I couldn't afford Ivy League." She met Patricia's eyes. "I put myself through state school with scholarships and worked part-time to help my mom with bills after my dad died."
"How industrious." Patricia smiled but it didn't reach her eyes. "And you worked at a private equity firm before meeting Callum?"
"Yes."
"But you're not working now?"
"I left that position."
"Why?" This was Cole, watching her over his wine glass.
Lennox felt Callum shift slightly beside her. They'd prepared for this question but it still made her throat tight.
"I ran into some problems at work. It didn't end well."
"Problems?" Cole leaned forward slightly. "What kind of problems?"
"There was an incident. Some money went missing and…"
"That's private," Callum cut in, his voice firm. "And frankly, it's none of your business. Can we stop interrogating my fiancée and just have dinner?"
The table went quiet. Patricia's eyebrows went up. Cole sat back, clearly surprised by Callum's tone.
"Of course," Patricia said after a beat. "You're right, dear. We're just curious, that's all. It's not every day you bring someone home."
"I understand curiosity," Callum said. "But there's a line between interest and interrogation. Lennox has been through enough without being grilled about it at a family dinner."
Lennox stared at him. He was defending her and the protective edge in his voice sounded real.
Cole raised his hands slightly. "Fair enough. I apologize, Lennox. That was out of line."
"It's okay," Lennox said quietly. "I know the situation looks suspicious. Callum and I meeting so quickly, getting engaged so fast. If my sister brought someone home like this, I'd have questions too."
"See?" Callum's hand found hers under the table, lacing their fingers together. "She gets it. But that doesn't mean she needs to justify her entire life story to people she just met."
The hand holding felt real. Too real. Like something a couple would actually do, seeking comfort from each other during a tense moment. His thumb moved slightly against her palm, grounding her.
Lennox squeezed back before she could stop herself.
Cole's eyes dropped to their joined hands under the table. His expression flickered with something Lennox couldn't read.
"You're right," he said finally. "I'm sorry. Both of you."
"Thank you," Callum said, but he still held on to Lennox's hand.
The conversation moved on. Margot asked about wedding plans, which was apparently a safe topic. Patricia mentioned venues and dates. Lennox answered on autopilot while Callum's hand stayed wrapped around hers, grounding her.
They made it through the main course and dessert. Lennox's flashcards paid off. She knew enough details to answer questions about how they met, where they'd gone on dates, what she loved about Callum. That last one was harder because she had to make shit up, but she focused on true things. His intelligence, his dry humor, the way he actually listened when she talked.
Cole watched her the whole time, his expression unreadable. But he didn't ask any more pointed questions.
By the time dessert plates were cleared, Lennox felt like she'd run a marathon. Her face hurt from smiling. Her shoulders were tense from sitting up straight. And Callum was still holding her hand under the table like he'd forgotten to let go.
"That wasn't so bad," Patricia said, standing. "Let's have drinks in the sitting room, shall we?"
Everyone moved into another stupidly large room with leather furniture and a fireplace. Lennox collapsed onto a couch, exhausted. Callum sat beside her, close enough that their legs touched.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For earlier. You didn't have to defend me like that."
"Yes, I did. They were crossing a line." He looked at her, those blue eyes intense. "You're going to be my wife. That means something, contract or not."
Lennox's chest felt tight. "Does it?"
"Of course it does." His voice was matter-of-fact, like it was obvious. "We're in this together. I'm not going to let my family make you feel like you have to prove yourself worthy."
"Your brother thinks I'm after your money."
"Cole thinks everyone is after something. He'll get over it." Callum's mouth twitched slightly. "Besides, he saw us holding hands. That probably convinced him more than anything you could have said."
"Was that why you did it? For show?"
Callum was quiet for a second. "Does it matter?"
It shouldn't matter. But somehow it did.
Margot brought over drinks before Lennox could figure out how to answer. She took hers gratefully, some kind of cocktail that tasted like berries and went down smooth. She needed about seven more.
They were halfway through their drinks when the doorbell rang. Patricia's face lit up.
"Oh wonderful, Victor's here!"
She rushed toward the foyer. Lennox looked at Callum, confused.
"Victor Harding," he said. "He was my father's business partner. He's on the board now."
Right. The name was in her flashcards somewhere. Close family friend, trustworthy, been around forever.
Patricia came back with a man in his late fifties, silver hair, expensive suit, warm smile. He looked like someone's favorite uncle.
"Victor's here for drinks!" Patricia was beaming. "Lennox he's practically family, our dearest friend."
Victor came toward them, and Lennox stood automatically. He extended his hand with that warm smile still in place.
His handshake was firm. Professional. Except it lasted just a beat too long, his fingers lingering against hers in a way that made something cold slip down her spine.