Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Millie burst out laughing.
“Whatever you did, was it fun?” Winnie asked eagerly. “Did you like it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It was hot. I mean, I can see why some people would not like it, and it definitely takes a certain level of trust, but we had a good time.”
“And he’s okay with the party?” Winnie asked, her eyes worried.
“Winnie!” Millie whacked her on the shoulder. “That is supposed to be a surprise.”
“Ow!” Winnie rubbed her arm. “She already knows, okay? She dragged it out of me.”
“It was like shooting fish in a barrel.” I smiled. “But I was glad she told me. I can’t say he’s thrilled, but we’ll be there.”
“And what about a wedding date?” Winnie looked at Millie. “Any progress there?”
“There’s one Sunday afternoon available at the end of August,” Millie said, shooting me a glance. “I have it reserved for now.”
“Thanks, Millie,” I said. “I promise to get you an answer in the next day or so.”
“I hope so! Invitations need to go out—that’s only a month away.” Winnie checked her phone. “Shoot. I have to go, I promised Hallie and Luna I’d go swimming with them at eleven. Let me see the ring one more time!”
I held out my hand, and she gazed longingly at my finger before sighing. “It’s so beautiful. I’m so happy for you. When do we talk bridesmaid dresses?”
“Uh. Soon.”
“Yay!” Winnie stood up and shoved the rest of her muffin in her mouth. “Okay, I’m going.”
Alone with Millie, I felt her eyes on me. “What?”
“A real wedding dress? A real ring?” She shook her head. “What’s going on? I’m starting to wonder if the joke’s on me. Maybe I should save the date.”
“We had to buy the dress because my nose bled on it,” I insisted. “It doesn’t really look like a wedding gown. Just a party dress. And I even tried to pay for it.”
“What about the ring?”
“The ring was just a gift,” I said, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in my stomach.
“A gift.” Millie blinked at me. “From Tiffany.”
“Yes. Look, I know it’s a bit extravagant, and I told him that, but he wouldn’t listen. He said he knows diamond rings are normally reserved for people you’re asking to spend the rest of your life with, but since he knows he always wants me in his life, it’s fine.” I picked up my coffee for a sip. “We’re not really getting married, and it’s fine.”
“It’s fine?”
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” But my fingers trembled as I set down my cup.
Millie glanced at my shaky fingers a moment, then met my eyes. “I don’t think you are. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I sipped my coffee, cradling the cup in both hands. “I’m tired is all. I didn’t get much sleep in New York, and I had to work last night.”
My sister broke off a piece of her scone and put it in her mouth. As she chewed, she kept looking at me.
“What?” I said, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.
“I know you. Something has you nervous. Jumpy.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I tried to sound dismissive.
She took another bite, never taking her eyes off me. “Did Hutton tell you he loves you or something?”
“No!” I laughed as if she’d said something hilarious. “Things aren’t like that with us. This isn’t a real relationship or a real engagement. It’s something I made up, remember?”
Millie rolled her eyes. “I remember.”
I took a bite of pain au chocolat without tasting it. Glanced out the window. On the corner, a woman took a small child by the hand and looked both ways before crossing the street. “I know it might look real on the outside, but that’s just because we’re having a good time. It’s one hundred percent fake. We are not together.”
“If you say so,” she said.
“I do.” My head was spinning, my breath was short. “It’s not real.”
I’m fine.
Nothing’s the matter.
Everything’s good.
As days went by, I said it out loud to anyone who asked if I was okay, and I said it to myself, trying to convince myself that this pit in my stomach wasn’t anything to worry about.
So I had the ring and the dress—so what? They were just gifts.
So there was a wedding date on hold at Cloverleigh Farms—it was part of the act.
So I was lying to people who loved me—it wasn’t hurting anyone.
So the internet continued to obsess over photos of Hutton and me—some sleuth had even managed to get their hands on a prom photo (I suspected Mimi, who kept texting me asking to meet, like we were old friends), and even reputable news sites ran it along with captions about “the hometown honey that bagged herself a billionaire.” It was fine—I only let myself read a couple hundred shitty comments before putting my phone down and walking away. And I deleted Mimi’s messages without a second thought. The last thing I needed was her voice in my ear.