Page 60 of Fake Dark Vows
“Oh my god, you slept with him, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” I breathe into the phone.
“I knew it!” There’s no accusation in her tone. If anything, she sounds excited, eager for the details. “That’s why you came home early, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Kind of. It’s a long story.”
“Oh, I can imagine.”
“What should I do, Jess?”
“Go get your diamond ring, girl. You can always sell it once this is all over.”
“So, you think I should play along with the fake relationship thing for the money?” It isn’t the kind of advice I’ve come to expect from my best friend.
“Sure, why not? You’ve already done the deed, so how hard can it be? Don’t answer that. I think I’ve already seen the evidence.”
We both dissolve into slightly hysterical giggles as a message alert pops up on my screen. It’s from Brandon, and it says simply: Thank you.
The following days blur into one.
The flight to Vegas is booked for the following week. First class. We’re not taking the private jet because Brandon wants people to see us together.
I meet him in a boutique café on the Upper East Side that’s straight out of Gossip Girl. A woman with cropped mauve hair, her neck and earlobes dripping with diamonds is seated at a table talking to someone who looks remarkably like Julia Roberts when I arrive and join Brandon at a table-for-two in a quiet booth.
He orders two espressos and waits for the server to leave. “Have you told anyone about us?”
“Us?” I chew my bottom lip.
On the way here, I promised myself that I would treat this—relationship—as a business agreement, which is no doubt how Brandon Weiss views it. Keep it professional. Set the terms and conditions and leave no room for ambiguity. But being this close to him is already stirring up memories of him inside me on Swimming Beach.
“Sorry, I mean this relationship.” His face is pale beneath the tan he caught on the Keys. His eyes are bloodshot, and he flinches when someone drops a spoon on the floor behind the counter.
“I haven’t told my dad if that’s what you mean.”
“Rose, I had no idea my mother fired him. I’m sorry.”
I stare at the window and blink away those goddamned tears. I almost believe him too, and this is going to be a problem if I can’t separate my fake fiancé from the Brandon I remember from Ruby Island.
“It’s fine,” I manage as our espressos arrive with complimentary dark chocolates.
He nods, once, like any other movement requires too much effort. “We’re going to the theater tonight. I’ll take you shopping for something to wear,” he says when I open my mouth to tell him that it’s too short notice. “You’ll be meeting some acquaintances of mine over the next few days too.”
I sip my coffee and wince when it scalds my tongue. “What if they start asking questions?”
“Your parents are friends of the family. We knew each other when we were younger and were reunited at my father’s birthday celebrations. We fell in love, and I proposed.”
“When you know, you know,” I murmur the old cliché.
He takes a deep breath. “Rose, I?—”
“Forget it,” I cut him off. “What happened on the beach… It was stupid. I should never have taken advantage of you, and I’m the one who should apologize.”
“Taken advantage of me?” I can’t read his tone, or his expression, and I keep my eyes on my coffee.
“Let’s just get this over and done with.”
“Fine.”