Page 16 of Accidentally Marrying the Billionaire

Me: I’m fine. Safe. I promise.

Me: But funny story…

Finley: That’s never how good stories start.

“Evelyn,” Mike calls out. “Car is here.”

“Coming,” I say. I type out a quick message to Finley, telling her I’ll text her back when I get into the car.

Me: The good news is I found somewhere to live. It’s temporary, but it’ll get me out of Kurt’s house.

Finley: That is good news.

Finley: The bad news better not be that you’re moving to Vegas, or Nebraska, or Portugal!

Me: Why would I be moving to Portugal?

Finley: I don’t know. I was just saying…

Me: I accidentally married a stranger.

The typing dots appear instantly.

Disappear.

Reappear.

Finley: I would call your ass if I didn’t have a sleeping baby on my chest!

Finley: Explain. Now!

Me: In my defense, I thought it was fake.

Finley: What does that even mean?

Me: Basically, we had a series of miscommunications that went something like this. There is another Evelyn Barlow who was getting married in Vegas this weekend. When I checked into the hotel, they assumed I was her. I assumed the bridal suite, the dresses, the hot fiancé, and the ceremony were all part of the game.

Finley: O!

Finley: M!

Finley: G!

Mike glances over at me.

“I’m telling my bestie. Evidently, the murder mystery people contacted her when I didn’t show up,” I say.

He nods. “I’m glad you have people in your life who check in on you.”

Finley: Okay. First of all—iconic! This is sooo something that would happen to you.

Me: Fair.

Finley: Second, are you okay? Are you safe? Is he safe? I know you said he was hot, but even creepy people can be hot.

Finley: Howard Hugues was reportedly hot, and he kept his toenail clippings in jars.

“You told her I was hot?” Mike asks.