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“I may have hinted to Josh that you were coming,” he mutters. He runs his hand through his hair.
“And what exactly did you say about me?” I ask.
“That you were, uh, my girlfriend?” he says. His tone rises at the end, making it sound like a question.
“Your girlfriend?” I say with laugh. I swallow, one more question poised on my tongue. “When did you tell your brother this?” I ask. “Before we first got together, or after?”
“Before,” he mumbles.
A pit forms in my stomach. Is that why he started this thing with me? To make it easier to get what he needed?
“Please don’t think that this has anything to do with us,” he says, reading my thoughts.
“It doesn’t?” I ask, my heart racing. “It’s awfully convenient, then, isn’t it? I bet you thought that you could get around telling me at all if you made me feel like you were interested in me for five minutes.”
“Alana, please, just hear me out, you’re overreacting—”
“I'm overreacting?” I growl. I shake my head “Fine, I’ll be your date for this stupid wedding, because you’re paying me to, but after that? You're nothing more than my boss.”
He sighs and covers his face with his hands, looking like he needs to tell me something else.
“What is it?” I bark.
“Josh kind of invited us out for dinner.”
“So, go,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You're supposed to be my girlfriend. He's expecting you to be there,” he says helplessly.
“Jesus,” I groan. I roll over, burying my face in the pillows. “Fine.” I snap. “I’ll go to your stupid dinner.” He nods, looking relieved. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like some time to myself.”
“Sure,” he nods. I watch him as he walks to the door, calling out to him just before he leaves. He turns around, his expression hopeful.
“I really appreciate that you are paying me quadruple time for this weekend,” I say sweetly.
He frowns and mumbles something under his breath, before nodding.
“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth.“That fucking asshole!” Peyton rages when I tell her what just happened.
“I'm gonna kill him. I’ll fly over there and kill the guy.”
“Calm down, I'm handling it,” I say. I lie back on my bed staring at the ceiling, talking to my friend. “The worst thing was I was really starting to believe that he was actually feeling something for me.”
“I'm so sorry. You’re not having much luck with guys, are you?” she asks.
“I wasn't having much luck before him and Jake,” I say with a frown. “But this is just ridiculous.”
“At least you’re getting a free mini-vacation,” she says weakly.
“But what's the point when I have to spend all my time with him? I can't even look at another guy.” Not that I even want to look at other guys. “We’ve got connecting rooms, for God’s sake.”
“I'm sorry. Do you want me to come over? I could make this fun,” she offers. I giggle, tempted to say yes and make Chase pay for both of us.
“I bet you could, but no. I can handle this. At least he is paying me well for it.”
“I hope you’re milking it for all it's worth,” Peyton says, agreeing.
I laugh. “Trust me, I am.”Right through dinner, I’m the perfect girlfriend in front of his friends and brother, but the second we’re alone, even for just a moment, I make sure he knows that I'm still angry as hell. He's edgy and nervous, glancing at me every five seconds, like he thinks I’m just waiting for the perfect moment to reveal everything.
I frown and stab at my chicken as I listen to him chat with Casey. I've gathered that she is the ex-wife, because I knew her name already and because the moment I saw her, I wanted to go all Jerry Springer on her. Okay, so maybe there’s a little anger built up inside me.
I’m trying my best to pretend that I don't care, but every time she laughs at something he says, my heart dies just a little bit more. I look up and watch him talk to her. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that they were friends, not two people who went through a messy break-up. I feel sick just thinking about it.
Why am I so jealous? He’s just another asshole I can add to my list. God knows I should be used to it by now. I glance back down and push my plate away, suddenly not very hungry. I look back up and see he's staring at me. My heart races as the tears begin to well.
“I can't do this. I'm sorry,” I mumble.
I push my chair back and stand up, rushing outside. I don't want to lose it in front of him or his little group, but if I don’t get out of there fast, the tears were going to flow.
