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“Gee, thanks. What a nice way to say I look like shit.”
I chunk a small throw pillow at her. “Don’t even start. You’re beautiful, and you know it. But the bags under your eyes tell me you’re exhausted.”
Her eyes widen in dread. “Seriously, Ethan? You don’t tell a girl that. Geesh. Have I taught you nothin’ in twenty-six years?”
“There was that one time in second grade when you showed me how to eat glue off our pencil boxes.”
“Oh my God, I hate you,” she says, laughing. The sweet sound immediately makes me smile. “And you’re the one who sprinkled pencil shavings in it before it dried.”
I shrug with amusement. “It added flavor.”
Harper gags, coughing as she snorts in between. I love seeing her like this after hearing how crazy her days have been.
Once the pie is warm and we top our slices with ice cream, we take a break.
“This is so good,” she hums around a mouthful.
“Mm-hmm. Grandma sure knows how to bake,” I add. “So, before you said you were practicing for the conference. When will I get to hear your responses?”
“Well…” She licks her lips, and I notice the way her cheeks pale as if the blood is rushing from her face. “Speaking of the event…”
“What about it?”
“I have a huge favor to ask, and if you say no, I’ll understand, but it’s super important,” she blurts out so fast, I barely comprehend the words.
“Whoa, Harper. Slow down.” I turn my body to face her. “Whatcha need?”
She lowers her eyes as if she’s nervous to ask, which isn’t something I’m used to. We tell each other everything, and there’s never been an uncomfortable conversation between us, but I feel like we’re about to have one.
“I need you to go with me…” She blinks, finally meeting my gaze. Just as I’m about to respond, she continues, “As my fiancé.”
Chapter Eight
HARPER
Ethan hasn’t blinked in a solid minute, and I’m starting to think he’s lost his ability to speak.
He finally clears his throat. “Excuse me? As your what now?”
I hadn’t intended to blurt it out, but he brought up the conference, and it felt like a good time. My nerves overcame me, and it just spilled out like word vomit.
Setting my plate on the coffee table, I swallow hard and repeat myself. “I need you to come with me as my fiancé.”
“Your…fiancé?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “I need a fake fiancé.”
He blinks again. “Why?”
“Because I told everyone I was engaged, and now they’re expecting me to bring the man I’m marrying to the next conference.”
Ethan scrubs both hands down his face as if he’s more confused than before. His reaction is warranted because I’m not giving him very much information. Honestly, this whole situation I’ve gotten myself into is humiliating, and I’d rather not have to relive it.
“Alright, Harper. Walk me through what’s goin’ on.” He twirls his fingers around in a circle, and I know he’s not going to let me off the hook.
Blowing out a breath, I start at the beginning. I explain how my video was flooded with negative comments, to the wine drinking, then the Facebook group, and the announcement that started it all.
“So by the time I came to my senses and decided to delete my stupid comment, it was too late. People were already congratulating me, and there was no getting out of it. Especially once Shayla messaged and asked me for my fiancé’s name.”
“Why’d she need that?”
“For the dinner reservation…or so she said.” I roll my eyes because I don’t believe it. She could’ve easily written my name with a plus-one.
“Why not just make up an excuse that he can’t come?”
“Trust me, I’ve thought of that too. But I don’t trust her not to find out the truth if I come alone. She’s stalked my social media enough that I wouldn’t put it past her to actually stalk me in real life. Plus, I kinda gave her a name…” I say hesitantly. “Which is why I need you specifically to come.”
He’s confused for a minute until it dawns on him. “You gave her my name?”
“Yes…” I wince. “I’m sorry! I was super tipsy and wasn’t thinking. You’re the first person who came to mind.”
“Not sure if that’s a compliment…” He flashes that devilish smirk that always gives me butterflies.
“Shut up. Will you pretty please help me?”
Ethan leans over and grabs my hand. “Of course I will.” He presses a soft kiss on my knuckles.
Another wave of butterflies surface.
Dammit. This won’t be as easy as I thought.
“Plus, we already know everything about each other. It’s kinda perfect,” he states.
“I agree, except she’s gonna ask questions we don’t have answers to yet.”
“Like what?”
“How long we’ve been dating, when we got engaged, how did you propose, when’s the wedding date...” I blurt out. “She’ll pry into every detail.”
“Alright, well that shouldn’t be too hard. We can figure it out. It’s not like she can fact-check us.” He shrugs.
