Faking It to Making It

“We thought coffee at Chadstone?” said one.

The other added, “Then shopping. Hope’s a stylist, so she’ll find you the perfect thing.”

“For...?”

“The wedding! Two birds with one stone.”

Saskia wondered momentarily what these two birds would do with a stone if they knew her relationship with their beloved brother was all a lie.

“Please say you’ll come,” Hope said hopefully.

Saskia nibbled at her bottom lip.

Saying no would seem plain rude, which wouldn’t help Nate’s cause. And she’d not actually considered what she’d wear to the wedding. Clothes weren’t really her thing, and considering her finances it had been months since she’d been able to afford even to update her undies.

And then it hit her—she knew how much Nate hated talking about himself, so using him as her infographic/love formula test bunny had been harder than getting blood from a stone. But he’d never expressly asked that she not talk to his family.

Three birds with one stone...

“I do need a dress,” she said, and Faith near deafened her with excitement as she barked orders down the phone as to when and where they’d meet.

Only after she’d hung up the phone and was taking advantage of Nate’s enormous dual-headed shower—keeping her back to the fake rhinoceros head which seemed to watch her no matter where she was in the room—did she wonder if she should have checked with Nate first.

But, no matter how it looked, he wasn’t her boyfriend. So as long as she kept within the bounds of their agreement he didn’t get a say. Besides, he would have said, No way in hell.

She wasn’t as convinced that she’d made the right decision an hour later as Faith and Hope curled their grips into the crooks of her elbows and dragged her all over Chadstone.

“You even smell like him, you know,” said Faith, as they hit the top of the escalator and headed towards designer row.

Saskia sniffed her shoulder, and realised she did. “Must be his shower gel,” she said, a moment before realising what she’d just given away. “Too much information.”

“No. You have no idea how happy it makes me.” Hope gave her a happy bump with her hip. “We were all beginning to think he was actually serious in his efforts not to settle down. And then you came along and we all let out a long, thankful breath.”

“Oh. Right.” Saskia bit her lip to stop herself saying anything more. Even while she knew Nate would be thrilled to the tips of his designer socks that his sisters were so far off the scent, she’d never counted on the fact that they’d see her as anything other than the last in a long line of future exes. That they’d care.

A little twinge of guilt took up residence in her belly.

Saskia was down to her bra and undies in a change room when Faith’s voice sing-songed from the other side of the curtain. “Think of the babies you two would make. Sweet, serious little things that’d charm a lolly out of a candy machine.”

Saskia poked her head around the edge of the huge velvet curtain as the guilt began to churn. “Faith, I—” God, how to put this? “Nate and I are having a really good time together, but babies are...not on the agenda. Yet. For a good long while. If at all. Okay?”

“We know,” said Faith, holding the netting of a fascinator over her eyes as she pulled kissy faces at a nearby mirror.

The way she said it made the guilt churning in Saskia’s stomach turn to lumps.

“You know what, exactly?” Saskia called, grabbing at the heavy velvet curtain which kept slipping out of her grip.

“About the pre-engagement,” said Hope, who now came at her from nowhere with a filmy, frilly red dress that looked like something out of a gangster movie.

Saskia held out a finger to take the hanger. “I’m sorry—the pre-what?”

Hope angled her head behind Saskia and she glanced back to see that her cotton-covered backside was in full view of the store in the mirror at her back. She let the curtain swing closed and looked at herself, cheeks pink, hair a tumble, the red dress clutched to her front like a great figurative scarlet letter.

EIGHT

“You told your family we are pre-

engaged?”

Nate looked up from the conference table, where he and Gabe were knocking back double espressos and doughnuts as they strategised the next step in landing a new account, to find Saskia barrelling down on him, her face a mask of fury.

Too many things hit him at once.

First, Saskia was looking about as damn cute as any woman had the right to look, even in an odd get-up of tight army pants, cropped leather jacket, mottled scarf and huge floppy beanie.