Mister Fake Fiance

“Did you just add ‘tall’ and ‘dark’ to the list?” I say, laughing.

“Well, yeah. I am tall and dark. I don’t need anyone to tell me that.”

“Put ‘conceited’ there, too.”

“Just cheerfully self-aware.”

“Uh-huh. And what does your self-awareness tell you is the next on the list?”

“That I should ask you.”

I smile. He’s so determined to hear it from my own lips. It’s sweet and flattering that he’s waiting for my response like the fate of the world depends on it. And I wish I could freeze the moment, so we could stay like this forever. “You’re sweet and nice, David. One day, you’re going to make some lucky woman really, really happy.” My heart aches because that the person will never be me. But I tell myself it’s okay because he’s making me happy right now, in this moment.

He looks at me oddly, his eyes more serious, then nods. “Thank you. That’s a great compliment.”

I finish the champagne. If a vise weren’t tightening around my heart, I might stay and cajole him into telling me my charms, but I can’t quite force myself. I place the empty glass on the counter. “Excuse me. I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Sighing softly, I head toward the bathroom. Maybe a few minutes of silence and deep breathing will ease the pain in my chest and restore my calm.

The bathrooms are at the end of a long, narrow corridor. It’s not terribly well lit compared to the main bar area, and I blink getting used to the darkness.

Somebody comes out of the shadows. “You bitch!”

Shelly? “Are you doing another bathroom ambush?” I ask, crossing my arms. “I thought you’d left.” I angle my hand so she can’t miss the ring.

Her face twists. “Crazy Clare.”

I freeze, my mouth going dry. How did she know? The kids in my hometown called me that when they learned my mom and her side of the family were insane. They just wanted to be cruel. Panic, shock and adrenaline pump through me, and it’s all I can do to not shove her away and flee.

“Did you tell David about your crazy family?”

The hallway seems to tilt.

Shelly continues. “His mom wants smart, beautiful grandchildren, which is why she was rooting for me and David. But no matter how desperate she is for grandkids, she doesn’t want them from damaged goods like you!” she hisses.

The blood in my veins turns to ice. My hands shake, and I try to grip my arms to stop, but my knees start trembling, too.

She smirks. “Thought so. You didn’t tell him anything, did you?” She studies her manicure. “Despite what you think, I’m not a total bitch. I’ll give you a chance to tell him before Alexandra’s birthday party. Otherwise, I’ll tell David myself. So don’t force my hand, Crazy Clare.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

David

Erin’s looking pale when she comes back from the bathroom. Her eyes are wide and slightly unfocused. If I didn’t know better, I’d assume she was drunk.

“Are you okay?” I ask, peering at her face.

She grows paler. Even her lips look bloodless under the makeup. She blinks a couple of times and starts to shake her head, then changes her mind and nods. “I’m fine. Really.”

“You look like you’re about to faint.”

“Just a migraine,” she mutters.

Uh… What? She was just fine moments ago. Can you develop a migraine that fast?

“Maybe I should go home now,” she says.

“Let me drive you,” I say, not wanting her to get behind a steering wheel. It’s still light out, and light can aggravate the pain. Mom puts on an eye mask and lies down every time she has a migraine.