Their Paid Girl

Their Paid Girl - Part 4

          But it turned out that she wasn’t having a heart attack at all; she was having an attack of extreme happiness when she saw the ring on my finger.

          “Is that...?” she asked, not daring to believe her eyes.

          “Yes,” I admitted, ducking my head and leaning into Scott.

          “OH MY HEAVENS! DAVID! SCOTTIE’S FINALLY POPPED THE QUESTION!”

          David Weston was Scott’s father, as quiet as his wife was loud. Scott was like a chip off the old block when it came to his father.

          “Congratulations, son,” he said to Scott, grinning proudly as he came up. “You too, Shawna,” he said to me shyly. “We’re glad to have you a part of the family.”

          Tears came to my eyes and I tried to ignore the self-hatred as I gave him a watery smile. “Thank you, Mr. Weston. That means a lot.”

          “I hope your mother didn’t pressure you into this,” he leaned in and muttered to Scott out of the corner of his mouth.

          Scott swallowed. “No, of course not.”

          David Weston nodded, clapping his son on the back before stepping back and allowing us to be flooded by well-wishers.

          There was a ton of them. I think Scott’s family reunion consisted of something like 67 relatives, not to mention guests and other fiancés and friends.

          “Congratulations!”

          “Thank you,” Scott said.

          “I’m so happy for you guys!” another girl squealed. This time I answered.

          “Thank you so much.”

          “You know, height isn’t the only thing my cousin is lacking in,” one of Scott’s cousins informed me wickedly.

          Scott put an arm around my shoulder and gave his friend a mock glare. “Thanks, buddy. We’ll see you at the wedding.”

          “You can be our best man,” his cousin suggested, also giving me a cocky hug. He had no idea I was older than him.

          “Thanks, but Scottie’s the only one for me,” I said sweetly while his younger sister sighed dreamily. “Scottie” scowled at me.

          “Hi, Scott!” an entourage of thrice-removed female cousins stood before us. I wondered if they even knew that a relationship was illegal since they were related to him and all the genetic mutations they risked passing on if they ever got with Scott. But it had never stopped them before.

          “Hello,” Scott muttered, suddenly going very red again. His cousins all ignored me.

          Luckily for us, Scott’s grandmother started passing around the word that dinner was ready.

Unfortunately, with such a mass of chattering people, passing around any word became a giant game of Broken Telephone.

          “Geraldine says that it’s time for dinner.”

          “Harold said you need to get thinner.”

          “What? How dare he!”

          “Don’t be mad at me, that’s what Harold said!”

          “We have a relative named Harold?”