Mister Fake Fiance

I leave, knowing she’s going to forget. Maybe her new girlfriend will be better about getting her to keep track of her social calendar.

I drive to the auction hotel, scrolling through my contact list, but nobody is suitable as a last-minute substitute date. My own fault: I dumped every one of my previous dates, Charlotte being the only exception. I’d rather not have any post-event drama because of a misunderstanding on the substitute’s part. And it’s not like I need a date to contribute to the cause.

The Blackwood Foundation is co-hosting the event with the Pryce Family Foundation. All the guests have been pulled from the crème de la crème of society, those who can afford to contribute to the cause by purchasing tickets and bidding. Court Blackwood, the man in charge of the Blackwood Foundation, is fairly new at this, but Elizabeth King has been running the Pryce Family Foundation for years and is a pro. I’m familiar with her because she’s my friend Dane’s cousin. It’s one of the great mysteries of the universe how a woman that nice can share a bloodline with him.

“Hello, David,” she greets me as I walk in. She’s dressed in a green cape dress, her golden hair down. She looks more like a teenager than a woman who’s running one of the world’s biggest privately funded charitable organizations.

“Hey, Elizabeth. Great to see you again.”

“And you. I’m glad you’re here.”

“Dane didn’t come?”

She shakes her head. “He hates events like this. Apparently sending a check should be enough.” She rolls her eyes.

That sounds just like Dane. I pat her hand. “What can you do except humor The Icicle?”

Laughing a little, she nods. “Have you met Court Blackwood?” She catches the eye of a young, dark-ha

ired guy, and he comes over. “Court Blackwood, David Darling.”

We shake hands. He has a good, strong grip.

“Nice to meet you,” Court says.

“It looks like your event’s going to be a success,” I say, my gaze flicking over the glittering crowd.

He smiles. “Thanks. But it’s Elizabeth’s doing.”

“He’s being modest,” she says with a smile.

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, I leave the receiving line to mingle and let Elizabeth and Court see to the other arrivals.

A waiter passes by with a tray. I snag a glass of red wine, have a sip and am immediately impressed. Mom would like it. I should ask about the vintage so I can send her a case. Maybe then she’ll let me take down the photo in my room. Or at least flip it over so Jan and Matt are staring at the wall, rather than me.

I could try that anyway, but if she asks, I won’t be able to lie. She has a way of making you crack. She should’ve been an interrogator for the CIA.

I spot a private wealth manager I’ve always wanted to meet and start moving toward him. But then a hand comes to rest on my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

“David?”

Every cell in my body freezes at the soft, tentative voice.

I turn to face Shelly Morris, my ex…and the woman I once thought I’d marry.

Chapter Four

David

When your ex leaves you, ripping your heart out during the process, you don’t ever want to see that person again. The thing is, it never mattered what I wanted because she’s the daughter of my mom’s best friend in Virginia. So of course I knew I’d run into her again at some point.

But I thought I’d see her back home in Dulles, not in Los Angeles. She took a job in Seattle, then threw our relationship away like a month-old avocado when I told her that I didn’t want to give up my career and uproot everything to move.

If that’s all there was, we might possibly have become friends again once the hurt faded away. But there was more.

She slept with both the interviewer and her new potential boss to get the job, which I found out after she moved away to Seattle. If I’d given up my career at Sweet Darlings to be with her, I would’ve been the biggest sucker of the century.

“You look good,” she says in a repulsively coy tone.