“So, what’s the plan?” she asks. “I’m assuming our fathers have already decided when, where, and how.”
“My dad told Carl Voss that we’re getting married on Valentine’s Day because he thought it sounded more romantic.”
“Where are we getting married?”
“An all-inclusive resort in Nassau. It’s a small, private ceremony on the beach, open only to close friends and family.”
“At least he got that part right.”
“He remembered how much you love Nassau.”
She wants to dance under the stars and have sex on the beach. I can do that. I can give her almost everything she wants.
“I’m embarrassed to ask my friends to take part in this wedding.” She scrunches her nose. “It’s bad enough our families have to play along.”
“We already know Callie’s onboard. She suppressed all of the stories she could’ve written about me and replaced them with our wedding announcements. Jules, Lola, and Amelia will also help you plan the wedding. You can have the perfect wedding.”
“I have no control over anything,” she hisses, though this time her anger isn’t directed at me. “I didn’t even get to choose the date or location. I’m being told like a child when I’m getting married and who I’m marrying.”
My cell phone dings in my pocket. “It’s Danika,” I tell her, staring down at the phone. “Our cake testing is this week. She doesn’t have a date or time yet.”
Harley gives me a confused look. “Why are we doing a cake testing if the wedding is in the Bahamas?”
“Danika wants us to go through the motions of a real wedding.”
She raises an eyebrow. “So, we have the pics to prove it?”
I nod. “Anything you want you can have. What’s mine is yours now.”
Harley sits on the stool at the kitchen counter, digging her elbows into the marble. “Who was that girl?”
My heart slams into my chest. Harley would call off the wedding in a heartbeat if she knew the truth. Any chance of us getting back on track would go out the window.
“Why was she so important that you had to ruin all of our lives over it?”
“She wasn’t important. She’s a nobody,” I lie. “Someone I met at a bar. Look, we’ll make the most of this. You can still have the wedding of your dreams and everything that comes with it.”
“Yeah, in theory, but not a wedding to the right person.”
“You have no way of knowing who you would have married.”
“I sort of had a boyfriend, or at least I was working on one when my dad called me to come home. Now, I have what? A fake fiancé?”
“It’s not the worst thing that can happen,” I deadpan.
“Yeah, I guess. But…”
She uncorks a new bottle of wine, pours some for herself, and then adds some to my glass. We clink our glasses together.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says with sadness in her tone. “Please don’t screw this up. If I’m going to put my name on the line for you and pretend that I’m your wife, please be honest with me. It’s one thing to bail you out, but it’s another to go through public embarrassment from the downfall of this relationship.”
“You have every right to be nervous and cautious,” I admit. “I haven’t given you many reasons to trust me. I promise, Harley, nothing will get in the way. No other women. And I will make this the wedding of your dreams, even if I’m not the man of them.”
Harley stares at me for a few seconds, biting her bottom lip. Her nails clink against the wine glass. Right now, she’s hard to read, though I can guess what she’s thinking. She doesn’t hate me. I know she doesn’t. She hates this situation.
When the elevator dings, I slide off the bar stool, surprised my doorman sent the deliveryman up to the penthouse without calling first.
“I’ll be right back. Can you set the table?”
Harley nods.
My jaw drops in shock when I see Veronica exit the elevator. Before I can stop her, she storms into my apartment like she owns the place. She’s wearing a skirt so short it looks like underwear, paired with five-inch stilettos that make her legs look even longer. Her pink top scoops down so low I can see her nipples.
“Hey, baby.” She smiles. “Did you miss me?”
Her flowery perfume fills my nostrils as she hugs me, pressing her big chest against mine. She layered the perfume on thick tonight. It’s so intoxicating I can barely breathe.
“It’s Wednesday,” she says in her singsong voice. “Why do you look so surprised to see me?”
I grab her by the shoulder and attempt to steer her out of my apartment. “Harley lives here now. We’re engaged, and you really need to leave.”
Veronica laughs. “You’re not engaged to that cow.”
“Don’t talk about my fiancée like that.”
Harley marches over to us, her nostrils flared in anger. “Who are you calling a cow, you stupid bitch? Get the fuck out of my apartment.”