Mister Fake Fiance

“You look…different.” Her hair is as straight and silky black as before. But it used to have threads of warm brown and gold running through it. Now it’s straight anthracite. And her eyes seem unnaturally wide and vivid. Probably circle lenses. They’re cosmetic contacts that make your irises look much larger than they are, giving you that doll-like, youthful appearance. Sweet Darlings’ app has a filter to add that particular effect to a user’s eyes.

It makes her look creepy. Like a living, talking doll.

“I didn’t realize you were in Los Angeles.” Or that you had enough connections to be at this auction. The Morrises aren’t poor, but they don’t travel in the same circles as the people here.

Maybe her Seattle boss brought her. She’s probably fucking the guy for extra perks.

“I came here for you,” she says with a bright smile, the one I used to adore. But now it looks calculating and manipulative. She places a hand on my shoulder. “I miss you.”

I brush the hand off like it’s rotting garbage, watch the wattage of her smile dim with frigid satisfaction. “Really? What about your career? Your boss okay with you being so far from the office?”

“Don’t be like that. I know you’re still single.”

I hope she’s not volunteering to be my girlfriend again, because I’d rather date a rattlesnake. Saying we ended on an ugly note would be an understatement. She declared loudly she was moving on, without the dead weight named David Darling around her neck.

But what galls me the most is the way she’s saying I’m single. Like I’m still pining over her. Like I’m a loser who can’t function without her.

My ego bristles. And I wish to hell that Charlotte hadn’t discovered the love of her life this afternoon. Then Shelly wouldn’t have approached and ruined an otherwise fine evening.

When I don’t respond, she gives me another smile, this time more understanding. It’s obviously designed to make me forget what she did. Taking the job in Seattle, labeling me a burden to her career ambitions… These are things she’s obviously confident she can recover from.

But I know far too much about her betrayal, even if she doesn’t know that I know it. She’s never bouncing back. The us that used to be is gone forever.

“My mom told me,” Shelly says, crinkling her eyes. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. “She said you’ve been single since we broke up. And I totally get it. The scene right now… It isn’t easy.” To find someone to replace me.

Damn it. Our mothers are very close. When the weather’s nice they play tennis together, and when it’s bad they play squash. Mom thinks hanging out with Mrs. Morris is perfect—she gets to exercise and gossip at the same time. And since I never told her what Shelly really did to me, Mom has no reason to keep things from Shelly’s mom.

“Your mother’s intel is out of date,” I say flatly. “I have a girlfriend.”

“Is that so?”

“Yup. I’ve decided to be, uh, true to myself.”

Shelly’s brow furrows. “True to yourself? What does that even mean?”

“I’m in love.”

She turns so pale so fast that I wonder if she’s going to faint. I start to tense, to spring into action to catch her, then stop. A woman who thinks nothing of cheating on her boyfriend to get a job on the opposite end of the country won’t just collapse because the boyfriend is in love with somebody else now.

“Who?” she demands, her voice turning shaky and accusing. “And why doesn’t your mother know about this?”

“Because I haven’t told her yet. Not my mom, but my girlfriend.” I shrug carelessly, hiding my satisfaction. “But I plan to. And soon, since my decision to be true to myself was made very recently.”

“Are you going to marry her?” Her voice quavers, like she’s the injured party.

“None of your damn business” is on the tip of my tongue, but I give her an “I’m so crazy about my girlfriend” smile instead. “Isn’t that what people do when they’re in love?”

Her lips thin, and she stares at me hard, calculating. Tired of wasting time with her, I finish my wine and start to turn away.

“So where is she?” she demands, stopping me. “I know you came alone.”

Has she been watching me? What kind of game is she playing? “She’s here. You just missed her.”

A determined gleam enters her eyes. “Then I have to meet her.”

Fuck. She’s not going to give up. I know that look. The last time I saw it, she was declaring that we were moving to Seattle.

I lean in and lower my voice. “Tell you what. Why don’t you run along to whoever it is on the corporate ladder you’re fucking these days and leave me alone?” With luck, this will piss her off enough to make her disappear.