Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
So why am I cuddling on his lap, peering into his ocean-blue eyes while cameras record our every move?
My best friend needs my help to save her career, and I would do anything for her. Besides, filming a reality show sounds fun … until Ripley shows up to play the role of my fake boyfriend.
As always, we nearly come to blows within minutes of seeing each other. The playboy billionaire accuses me of a setup, but I insist I’d rather live in a world without carbs than spend a minute with him.
At some point during the melee, we sign contracts. I can’t stand the look of his six feet two inches of chiseled abs and broad shoulders. And I loathe his arrogance. But now that he’s my pretend beau, I’m stuck acting like I’m falling in love with my biggest enemy.
It turns out that Ripley’s a good actor, too. Every soft touch on the small of my back makes my heart thump faster. His sultry smirk feels like it’s only for me. I should detest every word that passes his kissable lips.
Is this all a ruse, or does Ripley want to end this episode of The Invitation going from enemies to lovers? Because now? I’m not convinced I can despise him anymore.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Chapter One
Georgia
“How did the date go?” Sutton asks, lifting her martini. Despite the low lighting in the bar, the rock on her left hand—on the important finger on her left hand—twinkles. God, that’s a stunning ring.
The Swill, Sutton’s favorite establishment in her new, swanky Nashville neighborhood, isn’t what I expected. She insisted it was a dive bar where we could hang out and catch up after two weeks of being so busy that one-word texts constituted our friendship. With that vibe in mind, I wore cutoff jean shorts, an off-the-shoulder top, and my favorite cowboy boots. Purple, of course.
I was met with valet parking and a three-page wine menu.
Make it make sense.
It’s no wonder I have trust issues.
“The date last night?” I ask, plucking a toasted ravioli from the plate between us. “I canceled.”
“You did not.”
“Yes, I did.” I pop the appetizer into my mouth. “When I realized I’d rather wash my hair and pluck my eyebrows than meet him for dinner and drinks, I bailed.”
Sutton sighs, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you canceled on Bennet Copeland. What’s wrong with you?”
“Currently? Unemployment, the price of wine, and the fact that you let me walk in here dressed like this.”
She grins. “Well, if I had your legs, I’d live in those shorts. All heads turned when you walked in.”
“Yeah, probably because compared to the rest of you, I look like I charge hourly and spend a lot of time on my knees.”
“Shut up,” she says, laughing.
I shrug, swiping another ravioli.
Sutton McKenzie and I met on my first day at Waltham Prep. My parents divorced the summer before, and to suck as much money out of my father as she could, Mom finagled him into paying my tuition at a ritzy private high school that, financially speaking, I had no business attending. I wasn’t happy about leaving my friends for my senior year, and I really wasn’t happy about wearing a stuffy uniform and forgoing nail polish. But Sutton’s bright smile and offer to sit beside her at lunch eased my fish-out-of-water fears.
We’ve been best friends ever since.
“So what did Bennet do to earn the not-your-type label?” Sutton asks.
“I think it was his breathing that did it for me.” I chuckle at her eye roll. “Honestly? I don’t know that he did anything specifically. I just got tired of feigning interest in his portfolio. That man is pretty proud of himself.”
“Listen, I know you’re still in your rich-men-are-pricks era, but you need to reconsider. Trust me. It’s a lot easier working through your trauma while wearing a Siggy’s diamond and shopping at Halcyon than sitting at home in sweats eating ramen.”
“Sounds like you’ve had the wrong ramen.”
“You know what I mean, smart-ass.”
I laugh. “I do. I just disagree.”
“You are such a pessimist.”
“No, I’m a realist.”
“Your reality is what you make it.”
Sutton launches into a spiel about how life is like clay, and you must mold it to your liking. I tune her out, letting her voice blend in with the laughter from the tables surrounding us.
I’ve heard her speeches enough times that I can repeat them verbatim. It’s not that she gives awful advice or even that she’s wrong. I admire her perspective and how she wakes up in the morning with a clean slate. She doesn’t hold grudges. Her negative experiences aren’t allowed to taint her future, either. She truly believes that only good things are meant for her.
She might be right since she does live a charmed existence. My grandfather used to say people like her could roll around in pig shit and come out smelling like a rose.
That must be nice.
I’d love to be more like Sutton—a trusting, loving, positive individual who wears a smile and carries love in her heart. But when I try to slide on those rose-colored glasses, the ends poke me in the eyeballs, and I’m reminded that the best predictor of the future is the past.
And my past is filled with rich, manipulative pricks who wouldn’t even know what the word love means. Sometimes, I’m not even sure I know what it means, so I probably shouldn’t judge.
“Hey, what happened with your project at work?” I ask, eager to shift the focus away from my quasi-love life. “You lured me here with the promise of a huge update. So update me.”
Her eyes sparkle. “Remember the reality show idea I presented to my boss last year?”
“Of course I do. It was such a fun concept and totally original.”
“Well, he took it to the executives a while back. I’ve spent the past few months building out the concept and trying to attach names to a pilot, just in case.” She pauses, her smile growing as my anticipation inches higher. “And I did it, Georgia. I was notified a few days ago that it’s a go. The football player and beauty influencer we’ve been courting signed on, and the funding came through.”