No Escape by Julie Moffett
Chapter Nine
Lexi Carmichael
I loved how he called me his Lexi. I couldn’t recall him calling me that before. Just that little bit of extra love warmed my heart and went a long way to settling my nerves.
Juliette smiled at me, far prettier than photos showed, with high cheekbones, long eyelashes, and eyes that were more golden than brown. They softened with affection as she looked between Slash and me.
Was everyone in Slash’s family drop-dead gorgeous?
I still hadn’t said a word when Juliette took one of my hands in hers, pressing a soft kiss to each of my cheeks. “I’m so glad you could make it to Gio’s wedding.” Her English was perfect, with just a soft accent.
I finally found my voice. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. It’s great to finally meet you, Mrs. Thurlow-Davies. I’ve heard so much about you from Slash.”
“Oh, please call me Juliette. And this was a wonderful idea to give us a few days before Gio’s wedding to meet and get to know each other. I’ve already met your parents, and they are lovely people.”
Gah! She’d already met my parents? I hoped my mom hadn’t told her any stories about me yet. The embarrassing tales they could tell.
“You’ve met my parents?” I asked cautiously.
“I have. Your mom is beautiful and gracious, and your father is quite dashing.”
I glanced over at my parents. My mom looked amazing dressed in a fitted red dress with sparkling diamonds at her ears and around her neck, her blond hair perfectly coiffed and her makeup flawless. My dad wore a suit with a red tie that coordinated with the color of her dress. It seemed unfair my parents, my husband, and now my in-laws were so good-looking with excellent people skills, whereas I sucked at all the above.
“They are so proud of you, Lexi, and rightfully so,” she said.
I realized it was my turn to say something witty, but nothing leaped to mind, so I decided to lead with honesty. “Thank you for being so nice. I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything interesting to say now. I’m nervous, a bit overwhelmed by all the people, and I’m not good at small talk.”
Slash pressed a soft kiss against my temple, then slipped his hand into mine. His fingers, tapered and strong, squeezed mine gently, letting me know he’d always stand beside me in all my socially awkward glory.
“It’s completely understandable,” she said. “You’ve met a lot of people this evening.” She noticed Nonna’s ring on my finger and pulled it closer for a better look. “Oh, Lexi, the ring is perfect for you. We’re so thrilled Romeo has met his match in you, and we couldn’t be happier. I know we’re going to get along wonderfully.”
Her kind words made me feel better. Just then someone rang a bell to get our attention, and we stopped talking.
Lorenzo stepped in front of the group, commanding our attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, please have a seat at the table. You’ll notice a white place card at each setting, and I ask you to sit at the spot you’ve been designated. We’ve arranged it so you’ll be sitting next to someone you may not know well. We hope it’ll encourage you to form new and lasting friendships and relationships.”
I pressed tighter against Slash in protest. If they were separating us, I was in serious trouble. He was my guide, my buffer, and my savior when it came to social situations—and this was a very important situation to me.
What a freaking disaster.
“Let’s talk more later, Lexi,” Juliette said with a conspiratorial smile and headed toward the table.
“I told you she’d like you,” Slash said, taking my hand. “Come on. We’ll just be separated for a little while at dinner. You’ll be fine.”
I wouldn’t be fine, but I didn’t say so, because what would be the point? It didn’t seem as if there was anything I could do about it, so I sucked it up and let him lead me toward the sparkling table.
We wandered up one side of the table until we found my name. I quickly glanced at the names on either side of me. To my right was Mia, Vittoria’s teenage sister and maid of honor, and to my left was… Oh, crap. Slash’s stepfather, Oscar Thurlow-Davies.
My breathing quickened. I would be squeezed between an Italian teenager and my British father-in-law with no help in sight.
What could possibly go wrong?
A voice in the back of my head reminded me that I really needed to stop asking that question.