His eyes drag up and down my body. “You’ll need to shop for a dress. I have accounts with all the major designers, so just pick out whatever you want.” His computer dings with a notification, and he rounds his desk. “Love you, sweetheart, but I’ve gotta hop on this meeting.”
“Love you too,” I reply.
Instead of leaving immediately, I watch as he sits in his leather executive chair and drags his laptop forward, the skyline of Houston framing him. He looks formidable against the vast backdrop, exactly like the powerful man he is, and I’m a bit in awe that he’s mine.
“So ask me all the questions,” Serena says excitedly as soon as we sit down at the posh restaurant. “I’ll tell you all Remington’s embarrassing secrets since he and I have been friends since we were little kids.”
I smile awkwardly at her across the table. She seems to blend in with this restaurant, with its white walls, white tablecloths, and white plates.
“Is this kind of like a mom breaking out the embarrassing baby photos when guests come over?”
Serena laughs. “Something like that. There was this one time when we were in Greece…”
She launches into a story, and after that, she tells another and another. They are all amusing, and she’s a good storyteller, but it seems like each anecdote starts with “This one time when Remington and I were in—” And then she fills in the blank with some location or other.
I kept waiting for her to say, “This one time at band camp…” and the thought of that movie almost had me choking on a nicely seasoned scallop.
Serena is perfectly nice to me during the long lunch, but it feels like each tale is meant to drive home the fact that she knows Remi better than I do. That pulls on the tiny string of insecurity in my gut, but I do my best to ignore it because I’m sure that’s her end goal.
After hearing some of her outburst in the office earlier, I’m aware this woman is only pretending to be friendly with me to appease Remi. But then I guess that’s kind of what I’m doing as well. There’s no way I would choose to befriend someone like her. It’s not the fact that Serena obviously has money and is spoiled. Gianna Bouvier has a ton of money, and I like her just fine. The difference is, Gianna is one of the realest people I know, and Serena Greenfield is decidedly not.
They always say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, and that’s exactly what I intend to do.
By the time Antonio and I drop Serena off in front of her apartment building, I’m gushing and chattering right along with her. “Byenow, bestie,” I chirp, waving daintily at her from the window. “I’ll call you, and we can lunch again sometime soon.”
Antonio watches her walk inside and then eyes me in the rearview as I blow out a breath. Being fake is exhausting as hell.
“You want to tell me what that was all about?” he asks.
“Antonio, do you know who Suzanne Sugarbaker is?”
His brow creases as he pulls away from the curb. “That funny lady fromDesigning Women?The one played by Delta Burke?”
“That’s the one.” I pull a nail file from my purse and smooth out a rough spot on one thumbnail. “She had some great lines in that show, and do you want to know one of my favorites?”
“I honestly can’t wait to hear this,” he says with a chuckle.
I grin back at him. “Sometimes you’ve gotta fight sugar with sugar.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Don’t neglect your woman’s cookie
Remington
“You’re doing a reallygood job, Perri,” I tell my sister, leaning back in my office chair and looking through the proposal she just presented me for the charity gala she’s working on. “I’m happy with everything you’ve chosen.”
She looks absolutely thrilled with my praise. “Thank you. I’ve been working really hard so everything is a great representation of what Hale Cosmetics stands for. We’ve all been putting in a lot of hours on it.”
My eyes shoot to her blue ones. ByallI know she’s talking about the other major sponsors of this event, the Bouviers and the fucking Carlisles. I hate that she has to be exposed to that man at all.
“Has Carlisle said anything to you?” I ask sharply, remembering our encounter at the golf tournament.
“He’s said lots of things to me,” she retorts.
I blow out a cleansing breath and run a hand over my face. “I mean, has he said anything untoward?”
Her nose scrunches. “Untoward? No one talks like that, Rem. Well, no one who’s not an eighty-year-old duke.”
