“Emzee!” Tori said. “Finally. We’ve been dying to hear what’s going on.”
They rose to greet me and we exchanged the usual round of hugs and cheek kisses.
Tori was wearing another one of her flowy maternity sundresses, stretching ever more tightly over her round belly. She always reminded me a little bit of a Disney princess, with her long blonde hair and big blue eyes.
Brooklyn’s style was more edgy, but as a model, she always managed to look just a little more dressed up than everybody else—even on days like today, when she was in a pair of boyfriend jeans with black heels and a white button-up that was cuffed to the elbows.
I ran my hands down the front of my own jeans, feeling a little out of my league. But that’s how I always felt around The Wives, even though I knew they’d be horrified to know it.
There was no doubt in my mind that both of them were dying for an update. Which I knew I owed them—I had a lot of explaining to do, obviously, considering that the last time we’d had lunch, I told them I was considering entering into a fake relationship with Ford. And now we were engaged.
The best course of action was probably perpetuating the big lie. Telling them they were right; that the relationship had started out fake but then became real…but I couldn’t lie to them. Not when I so badly needed their help navigating the next fifteen months of falsely married bliss.
“How are you two?” I asked, trying to stall for time.
“We’re not here to talk about us,” Brooklyn said. “We’re here for the details!”
“Time to spill,” Tori added. “I’ve been waiting for this lunch date ever since you told us the happy news. At least, it sounded happy. Did some serious sparks start flying, or what?”
“I bet I know what started flying,” Brooklyn teased.
My face got hot, and I grabbed a fried pickle from the plate on the table and stuffed it in my mouth, sliding down in my chair a little bit. “It’s not what it looks like.”
As if they could sense my hesitation, Tori leaned over and put a gentle hand on my arm.
“Sorry,” she said. “We were being silly. Tell us everything. But also, no pressure.”
Brooklyn nodded emphatically. “We just want to help.”
The waitress arrived just in time to allow me a moment to collect myself, and after we’d ordered our lunches and I got half a glass of wine in me, I felt ready to give them the update they were clearly dying for.
I explained everything, getting them up to speed in a hurry by keeping it short and simple. There was Ford’s fifteen-month plan, the way we’d sorted out the details, our end goal of keeping Ford’s family off his back and his grandmother’s ring off Claudia’s finger. As for me, I’d be helping to repair some of the damage the Zoric family’s reputation had undergone when my father had been arrested and the seedy underbelly of KZ Modeling had been revealed.
Tori and Brooklyn nodded along the whole time. Neither of them was a stranger to arranged marriages, we all knew that.
I did feel a little bad that I expected them to keep my secret from their husbands, but The Vault was The Vault, and all secrets shared at Vault Lunches were never to be repeated. Luckily, The Wives were fully on board with that. What my brothers didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.
“I hate that you have to keep this from Stefan and Luka,” I said. “I know it’s not fair to expect you to lie to them.”
It was honestly the thing I felt guiltiest about.
But both of them shook their heads.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tori said. “What goes in The Vault stays in The Vault.”
Brooklyn agreed. “This is a sacred bond. We’d never betray it. Besides, we’re excited.”
“Just remember, this is all a show,” I reminded them, pushing my ravioli aside. “I wouldn’t get too excited.
The Wives exchanged a look.
“How often did I say that to myself?” Tori asked Brooklyn, who giggled.
“Probably about the same amount of times I did,” she said.
“This is completely different,” I argued.
“Uh-huh,” Brooklyn said.
