It was easy when I believed this was nothing.
Everything was easy when we only expected make-believe with a six-month countdown to get back to our real lives.
But somewhere along the way, lines blurred.
Ethan Blackthorn chose me to be more than his partner in this fake marriage crime.
In over a decade, he hasn’t told a soul, until he chose me.
Overwhelming.
Dizzying to have his trust.
Now, I can’t help wondering if he’s made a mistake, if I can trust myself.
What if I slip up and say something? What if something else happens that won’t keep this tragedy buried forever?
“Hey!” Margot snaps her fingers under my nose. “Earth to Hattie. Come in, book babe. Do I need to break out the smelling salts? Where are you today?”
“Um.” Quite literally world-altering secrets and heartbreaking sex with her brother is not the answer she’s looking for. “Right. The bookstore. There’s so much to sort out. I’ve barely just started on the financials. Thank God for the CPA or I’d really be lost.”
“Bookstore later. Flowers now.” She shakes the roses at me. “What do you think aboutthese?”
I rub one velvety leaf. “Are they real?”
“Oh, yeah! Best florist in town, I told you this place doesn’t disappoint. You couldn’t find roses this red if you painted them yourself…” Her voice falters as she lowers the roses to her lap with a frown. “Hattie, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little stressed over the big day. You know I suck at being the center of attention and all, but I guess pretty flowers take the pressure off a little.” I look around the florist’s shop—approved by both Margot and Mrs. Anne Radish, our wedding planner—and try to absorb the sheer number of flower options.
Unfortunately, lilies are out no matter how much I love them. They’re just not marriage material.
Margot keeps reminding me how much flowers mean at big, fancy weddings. They’re a statement piece and in her words, ‘they need to scream.’
Not what I love to hear when my heart prefers low-key and elegant.
“Not the roses,” I decide. “They’re a little too…”Much. “Perfect.”
Margot frowns at them, a tiny wrinkle forming between her eyes. “Hey, it’s your wedding day and you can basically afford anything. But don’t you want perfect?”
“I want natural. Modest, too. I know that’s a crazy concept for a billionaire wedding, but you asked.”
“Okay, okay. How about we look at the peonies then?” She waves her hand at a bunch of peach flowers. My gut knots at the sight of them.
Flowers.
For a fake wedding.
Before, planning a Potemkin wedding sounded like fun, but now I’m just stressing over everything.
What if we screw up and people see right through it?
And if I’m not good enough for him to trust me?
“Sure, let’s keep moving.” I try to keep my voice casual.
Margot throws me another suspicious look, like she knows I’m hiding something, but she goes back to scanning pretty flowers.
I want to ask her about Ethan’s past so badly without sounding like I’m weird or prying. Trouble is, with Margot, there’s no subtlety.
