FIANCE

Song Rec': Novocaine 2 — Cloke, Shiloh Dynasty

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I got up early, around 6:00 a.m., to have breakfast after getting ready for work. My parents were already up, eating and chatting about politics and random topics.

Heather hadn't returned the night before, but that wasn't surprising to me. I had slept in Reese's room with the door locked.

The idea of moving to my own place was starting to make sense. As long as that idiot roamed around the house, my daughter's safety was compromised.

I greeted my parents, as usual, and joined them at the table, hanging my red cropped blazer on the back of my chair. I intended to wear it over my strapless red corset knee-length dress.

Breakfast was light and simple: regular toast, waffles, eggs, bacon, and coffee—espresso for Father, cappuccino for Mother, and a latte for me.

"Elsie," Mother called, pulling my attention away from my plate. "Remember Lionel from yesterday? He wants to meet up with you today at one of our cafés in North Audley."

Oh, you have got to be kidding me.

"You met Lionel Davidson? What a fine young gentleman! I absolutely approve of your meeting," Father chimed in, as he always does.

This is the fifth "fine gentleman" they've set me up with, and from what I've seen, he's nowhere near that category.

I had no idea my parents brought me back to London just to force me into getting hitched. If I had known, I would've stayed in Ireland and kept building my life there.

I'm not interested in giving or receiving love anymore. My daughter is my only priority, not men.

"I'm not going," I objected, and the bright smile on my mother's face vanished.

"Why?" they chorused.

"I don't like him, and I don't know him."

"That's why you should go on the date—to get to know him better," Mother persisted.

"I don't want to know him better," I snapped, starting to lose my patience.

"As expected," Heather said, clicking her tongue as she entered the room, still dressed in her pajamas. "Our parents have done everything for you, and this is how you repay them, Elsie—"

"Heather, shut up and crawl back to whatever hole you came from!" I seethed, glaring at her in disgust.

"Isn't she telling the truth?" Father spoke up, and my eyes widened as I turned toward him. "If not for us, do it for that poor kid. She needs a father figure in her life, Elsie. I know it's hard, but it's something you have to do. The rumors surrounding Reese's birth need to be silenced, and the only way to do that is by getting you married," Father explained.

I turned to Mother, but to my dismay, she agreed with him.

"Just go on the date, Elsie. If you don't like him after that, I'll schedule more meetings with reputable men, okay?"

I scoffed, standing up and grabbing my blazer and purse. As I made my way to the door, Heather muttered, "Very ungrateful."

I ignored her and left the house.

Men of reputable standards? What am I, some kind of whore or a frail princess trying to pick a suitor? If I were to choose a man, he'd have to be someone who would make a good father to Reese and a good husband, too. But I won't risk my heart again, chasing after love and being loved.

I sat in the back of my car, staring intently at the steering wheel, as if it could somehow fix my problems, while I waited for Sir Bacchus and the two assigned guards, Derek and Richard. I called them Hobbs and Shaw because they reminded me of that movie.

My parents had done their best. Many people would have disowned their kid, but they respected my decision to keep Reese and took her in as their own. They gave me a job and a place to stay until I could get back on my feet financially. All they're asking for is this one date. It's the least I can do for them.

Sighing, I phoned my mother.

"Is everything alright, dear?" Mother asked, as if we hadn't just fought in the dining room.

"Send me the address to the café. I'm going," I said curtly, ending the call as I heard her excitedly share the news with Dad.

Instead of the address, Mother sent me Lionel's number, and he wasted no time being his creepy self.

[Let's have breakfast at 9, baby.] I read his first text sharply as I stepped out of the car.

Rolling my eyes, I continued reading.

[I'm wearing a white shirt.] He added, probably so I could recognize him.

I adjusted my dark sunglasses as I headed into the café, praying that the date would end quickly and that he would turn out to be exactly as bad as I imagined.

A quiet breath escaped me when I spotted Lionel waving. I walked over to the table. The café had a minimalist black-and-grey color palette, featuring high ceilings, exposed light bulbs, and a metallic bar counter with matching black stools. The space was furnished with round black tables and chairs, and a unique circular window added a focal point. It looked just like the rest of my family's cafés.

The place was already quite busy, which made me wonder why he hadn't chosen something more private.

"Good morning, babe," he greeted.

"It's Ms. Loughton to you, Mr. Davidson," I corrected, taking a seat.

"My apologies. What would you like to have?" he asked, scanning the menu.

"A latte," I told the waitress. Since I hadn't finished my breakfast earlier, I might as well have my coffee here.

"Just black coffee," Lionel ordered.

"So, why did you want to meet up?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

"I know I messed up last time. I apologize for my silly mistake. I just wanted to get to know you better before making any judgments," he said, trying to reach for my hand. I pulled away.

"Making judgments?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Let me get straight to the point. I want to marry you. My family will visit yours soon," he said just as our drinks arrived.

"Wait… what did you just say?"

"Yes, I want to marry you. The first time I saw you was five years ago at a family event—"

"No. My answer is no. I don't even know you, Mr. Davidson." I cut him off with a glare. This was why my family wanted me to meet him.

Lionel scoffed and fixed his gaze on me. "No? You don't really have a choice, do you, Elspeth? I'm actually doing both of us a favor. I don't have a kid, but I'll accept yours. These rumors tarnishing your family's image and business? I'll help with that, too. We both need this marriage."

I said nothing, stunned by the audacity he had to talk about me like that. This is all Heather ever wanted—to put an ugly label on me and block anyone from associating with me. But not today. I'm not scraps to be picked up. Neither is my daughter.

I scanned the café, an impulsive idea brewing in my head. All the men seemed to be with partners, except for one.

He was seated on a stool at the counter, his dark brown curls perfectly messy, and his beard framing his jawline with an effortless ruggedness. He had thin, wire-framed glasses that made him look intellectual, like there was so much going on behind his intense hazel eyes. When he adjusted them, there was a quiet confidence to the gesture. From the dreamy looks of others, I wasn't the only one noticing him. He had an undeniably captivating presence.

"Still no, Mr. Davidson," I said, smirking as Lionel's face contorted in disbelief.

"No? Think carefully about this, Ms. Loughton," he snapped.

I rose from the table, grabbing my purse. "As a matter of fact, I already have a fiancé," I declared, marching toward the man at the counter. My heart pounded as I approached. He had just taken a sip from his cup and set it down.

I met his eyes, pleading silently, then wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him.