Fake Fiancée - Season 1 - Episode 20

5 years ago

Fake Fiancée - Season 1 - Episode 20

As I walked through the door, I smiled
to myself. There were a lot of antiques in
here. Arianne called Bernice to bring our
luggage to our rooms and led us
through the golden foyer and into a
sitting room. I sat on the ivory and
turquoise striped settee by the window
and Henry was made to sit next to me.
Ugh.

Then he put his arm around my small
shoulder and pulled me to him making
me widen my eyes. I didn’t think I could
handle the proximity. Arianne started
asking us questions such as how we
met and what our first date was like (we
used the day when we Henry stole my
first kiss at the beach, although we
didn’t mention it had been my first.)

Arianne was very charming – I liked her.

I wouldn’t mind having her as my
mother in law or my actual mother.

“So both of you, have you set a date for
the wedding?” Arianne asked, leaning
forward eagerly.

Henry and I froze and Steve awkwardly
coughed. We weren’t actually going to
get married. I was supposed to break
the engagement off later.

“I was thinking a spring wedding would
be very fine,” Arianne mused. “Maybe we
could hire Evan Molière to cater. His
appetizers are to die for – especially his
zucchini fritters and verrines!”

“Oh Mom, Lainie was thinking of
wearing a pink fluffy Barbie dress as her
wedding dress,” Henry said, smirking.
I elbowed him in the ribs to show that
wasn’t what we were supposed to say.

“Actually Arianne, Henry and I have
decided it’s a bit too early to be thinking
about our wedding. I haven’t started
college yet.” Saying that made me feel
like a knocked up teenager.

Arianne blinked. “Oh of course, of
course! But it could never hurt to think
about those things right?”

“Of course not,” Henry replied easily,
flashing a grin at me. How could he
remain so … happy?!

“So, how’s Rafferty?” Steve asked as
Bernice came into the room with a silver
tray of juice and biscuits. I had the
feeling Steve was uncomfortable with
the word ‘wedding’ as I was. The weird
thing was, I felt Henry stiffen next to me
after Steve had asked that. Strange. Who
was Rafferty?

Arianne smiled as she took her glass of
juice. “He’s very good. He’s on a business
trip at the moment in New York but he’ll
be back in two days.”

After Arianne had said that, Henry’s fists
were nearly shaking and his jaw was
clenched. Whoever this Rafferty was
obviously had issues with Henry. Or
Henry had issues with him. “Who’s
Rafferty?” I asked politely. I was very
interested to see who could make Henry
like this.

“My husband,” Arianne replied.
Oh. So that was why Henry’s mood had
gone downhill. I took a sip of my juice
from the glass coffee table to try and
avoid the awkward silence.

“Mom, do you mind showing us our
rooms?” Henry asked. “I’m sure Lainie’s
tired and Steve must have some work to
catch up with …”

“Of course!” Arianne exclaimed. “Bernice
would show you where you are
staying.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “I know where I’m
staying. My room.”

Arianne then guiltily looked away.
“Actually … your father turned your
room into his personal office. Please
don’t be mad dear!”

Henry stood up and scowled. “What
gave him the right to do that?!” He
yelled.

“He said your room is bigger than his
office and he wanted a bigger office. It’s
not like you live in there anyway!”
Arianne exclaimed hysterically.

Henry scoffed. “But I stay here. Just
show me where I’m sleeping then.”
Arianne sighed and called Bernice to
show all of us to our rooms. She led us
up the stairs, to the right and past a
mezzanine. She showed where Steve
was staying, and then continued further
down the corridor.

“Here is where Mr Henry and Miss Lainie
are staying,” Bernice murmured with a
little French accent.

I did a double take. What?! “I’m sorry,
but did you just say we’re sharing the
same room?” I asked a little horrified.

Bernice nodded quickly and left while I
stood there stunned. I had to share a
room with the king of jerks. “Coming in
or what?” Henry asked, amused at my
reaction. I fumed and walked slowly into
the room.

“You’re sleeping on the couch,” I
automatically said. In a house like this,
there must be a couch in the room.

“What couch?” Henry asked, smirking. “I
see no couch.”

I looked around the room we were
staying in. There was a queen sized, oak
four poster bed with powder blue
drapes but no couch. No couch! Just
arched windows, a Persian rug, a
plasma TV hanging on the wall in front
of the bed and a closet.

“Looks like we’ll be sharing a bed
pancake,” Henry sang with a wink.