Page 138 of Pretend To Be Mine

“What if it’s too late?”

“It’s not too late until you give up.”

45

ADRIAN

The private jet’s cabin was dark, most of the lights dimmed for the red-eye back to New York. Briggs was sprawled in one of the leather seats, still clutching his tablet even in sleep. Dash had passed out the moment we reached cruising altitude, headphones on, dead to the world. Mom had retired to the bedroom in the back hours ago. I would love to sleep, but I knew it was not going to happen.

It was just me and Sebastian. He was still alongside me. I wasn’t sure if he was staying awake to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or if he was awake because he knew we had a shitshow waiting for us in New York.

We were both enjoying a drink. Well, several drinks.

“You look like shit,” Sebastian observed, pouring himself another glass.

“I feel like shit.” I took a drink, welcoming the burn. “The company’s in crisis. Fashion of Love Week might end up being remembered as Fashion of Love Scandal. And all I can think about is Elizabeth.”

“Yeah, I noticed.” Sebastian leaned back, studying me. “You’ve checked your phone about forty times in the last hour. She still not answering?”

“No.” I had called, texted, left voicemails. Nothing. “Can’t blame her. I dragged her into this scheme and now she’s the one getting destroyed online. I can’t believe we’re in the twenty-first century and people are still blaming the women. As if guys don’t fuck women for the same reasons.”

As if I needed to remind myself how bad it was, I pulled out my phone and opened social media. I immediately regretted it. The memes were vicious—Elizabeth photoshopped with dollar signs for eyes, Elizabeth holding a gold pickaxe, Elizabeth with various unflattering captions about social climbing and scheming.

“Put it away,” Sebastian said.

I sighed and blacked out the screen before putting the phone back on the armrest.

“People are cruel,” Sebastian said quietly. “She doesn’t deserve that. I liked her.”

“She’s not dead,” I muttered.

“But she’s not here,” he said. “You think she’s gone for good?”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

“This is fucked up,” he said.

I took another drink. “None of this is her fault,” I said. “She was doing me a favor—doing us a favor. Helping save the company’s reputation.” I drained my glass. “And now her name is mud while we get to just be the victims of a scheming woman.”

“That’s not the narrative we’re pushing. It was never the narrative.”

“Doesn’t matter what we push. That’s what people believe.” I poured more whiskey. “I should have protected her better. Should have anticipated this could happen. People suck.”

“I think we all underestimated how curious people are about our lives.”

I snorted. “No shit.”

“We all fucked up,” Sebastian said. “You, me, Briggs, Dash. We thought we could control this. Thought we were smarter than everyone else.” He swirled his drink. “But mostly you fucked up by not telling her how you feel.”

I looked at him sharply. “What?”

“Come on, Adrian. I’ve known you my whole life. I’ve seen you with dozens of women over the years. You’ve never looked at any of them the way you look at Elizabeth.” He leaned forward. “You’re in love with her.”

I started to deny it, but the words died in my throat. What was the point? “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters. It’s the only thing that matters.”

“She left. She made it clear she wants distance.” I pulled out the note she’d left, the one I’d been carrying in my pocket like some kind of talisman. “Read it yourself.”