"I’ll be recording this,” I announced, “to make sure I don’t forget anything.”
Nothing from Matthew, but a slight nod from Steve.
There was a bottle of excruciatingly posh mineral water in the middle of the conference table, except I would literally have had to crawl across the glass to get it. That left me, dry-mouthed and sick to my stomach, peering at it longingly.
I pushed the corners of my lips into a distorted coat hanger of a smile. “Congratulations on your engagement. How did it happen? Who asked whom?”
“I asked Steve,” offered Matthew, finally. “I’m afraid it wasn’t as romantic as these things should probably be.”
Steve cast him a glowy smile that made me want to kill myself. “It was romantic enough for me, my prince. You see”—he glanced at me again—“we have a long and somewh
