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Since leaving Jeremy, I’ve had some time on my hands. So I crocheted a baby blanket, sewed up a few soft baby toys in the theme of Poppy’s nursery, and even looked up the steps to making a baby carrier from scratch. Sitting here amongst everyone else as Poppy opens parcel after parcel from me, I can see it’s too much.

Poppy catches my eye through the din, mouths, I love you.

The embarrassment fades, and I mouth it back to her.

Even if I never have a family of my own, at least I’ll always have her. I’ll have all of them, and I can be the greatest auntie in the world.

CHAPTER 3

PATRICK

“Mark!”

“Chris!”

I’m walking out of the clubhouse with Chris when he stops to talk to someone. My sandwich is sloshing around in my stomach, and my clubs are bouncing on my back. I’m lost in thought about losing this sale.

“So good to see you. How are Gloria and the kids?”

“Oh, doing so good. Remember the puppy I told you about?”

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?”

Chris laughs loudly, and I’m pulled from my thoughts, watching this interaction instead. Chris is standing closer to this man—Mark—his hand on the guy’s shoulder.

I’d thought maybe the distance between me and Chris came from the age gap. But here he is, just as chuffed to be talking to another guy my age.

They talk about Gloria and Chris’s kids. They talk about grandkids. They talk about Mark’s upcoming national park road trip he’s planning with the entire family. They talk about the little tiff between Mark and his brother-in-law, and how handy Chris’s advice was for him in getting through that.

And, as they talk, I have an epiphany about what it is that Chris wants from me. The thing he’s been looking for that I don’t have.

In fact, it’s so obvious I feel sick that I didn’t realize it sooner.

He and Mark say their goodbyes, and Chris and I turn, continuing our path out to the parking lot. Chris carries on the last part of his conversation with Mark, offering me more context.

“…and then we have our trip to Finland, so I’m not sure when I’ll be⁠—”

“Finland, huh?” I ask, like I haven’t heard about this trip yet, stopping just outside Chris’s truck to tilt my head at him. “That sounds like a lot of fun. Can’t wait until we’re doing that sort of thing as a family, too.”

Chris’s brows come together. Rather than throwing his clubs in the back of his truck like he normally does, he slows down, glancing over at me with a curious expression, asking, “We?”

“Yeah, me and my fiancée,” I clarify, the lie rolling off my lips a little too easily. So casual, to tell him what he wants to hear. I barely even look at him as I deliver it, as though it’s something that maybe Chris should have already known.

Some of my colleagues would say it’s wrong to lie like this. I disagree.

It’s not really a lie. I could have a fiancée anytime I wanted. And it’s not really lying if it’s in the spirit of an acquisition. In business, people like to pretend like they’re unbiased when the truth is that most decisions are made outside of strategy or logic. People don’t give you the sale because you made a good case for it; you get the sale because you’re good-looking, or charismatic, or you went to school with their son and they love that university.

I’m simply righting the course of Chris’s unfair bias toward me.

Which he proves by relaxing his shoulders, his already warm voice warming up even more as he leans in and says, “I didn’t know you had a fiancée! When did that happen?”

“A few weeks ago,” I say, letting a smile spread over my lips, too wide and too happy, like how Chris smiles at me. “It was a short romance, but when you know, you know. Am I right?”

“You’re completely right. Wow, congratulations!” Chris launches into a barrage of questions. When is the wedding? Are we planning already?

Of course. My imaginary fiancée wants only the best. I throw out some numbers for a dress and cake that nearly make Chris swoon. They might be too high, but maybe they paint me as the selfless, doting man.

The questions continue. Will we stay in Miami? Are we thinking of having kids?