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It will be. I’ll make it right. For both of us.
12
Dee
Jasper and I, predictably, take a bit longer to prep for the cocktail party than we anticipated. As in a couple of hours longer. Finally, I manage to shower without him dragging me back into the stream of water, and get dressed in the only cocktail-hour type dress I brought. I got it at a vintage shop, knee-length and lacy, and it reminds me of a ballerina’s costume, but with a little edge from the studs sewn into the top and the ragged fringe on the hem.
I check myself out in the mirror before departing our suite, and I actually smile. I like the look on me.
But the moment Jasper and I step arm-in-arm through the veranda onto the rooftop bar of the resort, my stomach sinks. I’ve gone all wrong with this. His cousins—these must be the cousins, there are about a thousand of them, and everyone has the same dark messy waves as Jasper, the same piercing dark eyes—are in veritable ball gowns, all sleek black things, some clingy and others flowy. But nothing like my dress. Nothing that looks so casual or… well, cheap, in comparison.
My cheeks flush immediately. But then a woman rushes forward to grasp my hand and pull me into a hug, without so much as an introduction first.
“You must be Dee,” she says, all in one breath. “I’m Sofia, Jasper’s cousin. It’s so lovely to meet you—and so wonderful our little J’s gotten himself a girl at last, huh?” She winks at him. Only then do I notice the train of boys clinging to the hem of Sofia’s gown. Each one dressed cuter than the last, in little matching suits. “Oh, these are my sons. Peter, Christopher, Luke. The girls are floating around here somewhere too…”
“Two,” pipes up one of the boys.
Sofia laughs. “Luke Two,” she amends. “Luke number one is his uncle. At least whenever we’re at big family events like this.” Then she glances at me with a grin. “I tried to explain the proper term is junior, but—”
“I’m not junior,” the boy—Luke Two, I suppose—replies, looking cross.
“Of course you’re not.” Jasper kneels and extends his arms. “Hey there, Two. How you been?”
“Good.” Luke Two considers Jasper for a moment, then, with a laugh and a huge smile, peels away from his mother’s skirts and his brothers to throw his arms around Jasper’s neck in a hug. The other two boys join in, and pretty soon Jasper is rolling on the ground of the very fancy, very elite rooftop club with these kids.
I can’t help it—I burst into laughter, loving the sight. Loving that he’s the type of person willing to get down and dirty with his cousins’ kids, even at a fancy event like this.
Sofia tucks her arm through mine as the boys continue to wrestle. “Come on,” she whispers conspiratorially in my ear. “While he’s distracted, let me steal you away.”
She leads me straight toward the buffet table, and I think I love her already.
Along the way, we collect a couple of other cousins—Chloe and Jessie, who come to offer Sofia congratulations, both with significant glances at her stomach.
“Are you pregnant?” I ask, genuinely surprised, because I couldn’t tell under her tight, form-fitting gown.
“Four months along, bless you.” She pats my hand and laughs. “I love this girl,” she adds to Chloe, who falls in beside us at the buffet. “Great taste in food and compliments.”
The three of us stock up our plates and hover at the edge of the party chatting. Sofia points out Jasper’s aunts and uncles and various cousins. I lose track of most people—there are so many names flying past, it’s hard to attach them all to faces. But Sofia just pats my arm, reassuring. “Don’t worry, you’ll get to know them all soon enough. In the meantime, just stick with me, and I’ll make sure to whisper hints anytime your memory needs a jog.”
“Thank you,” I tell her, sincerely. “It is a little overwhelming, but in a good way—it must be so wonderful to have a huge family like this.”
“Wonderful and the bane of my existence all at once,” she says with a loving sigh that makes her sound just like Jasper. “I love them to pieces, but sometimes we can be a bit much to handle. Especially for newcomers who aren’t used to it. Do you have a big family, Dee?” She smiles at me, so genuine I can’t help but return it.
“No, unfortunately. Just me.”
“Not anymore,” she corrects me with a wink. “You’ve got us now.”
My heart soars even as my stomach sinks. Because I don’t, not really. This is all for show, and sooner or later, Jasper’s going to have to break the news to these people. I’m nothing more than a business agreement, a fake wife he needed to get his CEO promotion. What will his parents think of me then? They’ll probably hate me even more than when they thought I was just some gold-digger.
“Oh, come here, you have to meet my brother Alex—Alex!” She shouts and waves at a guy in the crowd, who’s got an infant tucked under one arm and one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen wrapped around the other.
I force a smile back onto my face and try to push those thoughts to the back of my mind. I try to forget that I’m faking, that none of these people are really my family now. I try to forget Jasper and I are lying to everyone here. Instead, I just focus on the party, the fun. The sense of welcome and ease which was missing when I first stepped out of the cab jet-lagged and tired earlier, but which is starting to return with every spin around the room.
Maybe… maybe I really could fit in here, I start to think.
Pleasantly buzzed from the cocktail Sofia pressed on me to drink in her stead—something called ouzo, which tastes like licorice, but when mixed with a full glass of ice water, was actually surprisingly refreshing… And potentially deadly. I drained the whole thing before Sofia realized and stopped me, laughing, with a warning about the high alcohol content.
It definitely didn’t taste that strong going down. It tasted delicious and light.
Now, however, as my head swims and I stumble along the hall trying to remember which suite Jasper and I are in, the floor swaying under my feet, I realize she was right. Whoops.
I squint at the doors and try to force the numbers to align themselves properly in my head. 403? No… 401? I sway back and forth between the two, then finally grip the knob of 403 just as it turns under my hand. “Oh—sorry!” I blurt, only to find myself face-to-face with Greg.
He hesitates, eyebrows lifted, and then smiles with understanding. “Oh. You two are next door, Dee.”
“Thanks.” I sway on the spot a little, but don’t make a move to reach for 401. Instead, I’m too busy staring up at Greg. Greg, who I thought was my friend. Greg, who hired me for this gig in the first place, and then tried to throw me under the bus the second I got here. “Can I ask you something?” I say. I’m proud that only the s comes out a little slurry.
“Of course.” He blinks, taken aback. Like he has no idea what he did.
“Why did you say all that stuff about me to Jasper’s dad? That I was an intern who threw myself at him, that people are gossiping about me…”
He tilts his head, confused. “Well, it’s all true, isn’t it? I mean, minus the throwing yourself at him part, but that was the party line we’d agreed to go with, I thought.”
“It’s just the way you said it, though. It made… it makes this all sound so much worse than it is.”
“Worse than faking a marriage with someone your father will hate so he’ll promote you to CEO and beg you to divorce her on top of that?” Greg laughs. “Yes, I suppose that does sound pretty bad, Dee, but you knew what you were signing up for.”
I reel back from him, until my back hits the far wall. I glance up and down the hallway, worried someone else overheard that, my head buzzing. “What did you just say?”
Greg frowns. Crosses the hallway to lift my chin and peer down at me. “Dee. You know this is all fake right?” His voice drops low, concerned now.
I shake my head, twist out of his grip. “Not that. The other thing. Someone your father will hate?” My chest
hurts. My stomach, too. I feel like I’m going to be sick, and not just from the alcohol.
His frown deepens. “I thought you knew that’s why we picked you.”
We? My heart aches. “Why?” I whisper, through cracked lips.
