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“Sometimes.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “But I’ve been playing this game for a while now. I’m used to pretending.”
Amy hummed. “You definitely have a lot of secrets.”
With a tight smile, Melanie slipped her hand from Amy’s grasp and turned to me. “Oh, I forgot to mention I have some leftover invitations. Did you want some for your friends and family?”
“Sure,” I replied, narrowing my eyes at Amy. What did she see?
Melanie guided me over to the dining table, covered with overflowing boxes of addressed envelopes, and handed me a pile of spare invitations.
My smile grew as I ran my hand over the slightly embossed letters that spelt out my name. “This is amazing.”
“Once these are sent and I promote you online, there won’t be an art collector in New York City who doesn’t know your name.”
My heart fluttered. “How did you get so good at this?” I asked, picking up her elaborate to-do list.
“My mother is the queen of event planning. Parties, fundraisers, anything to keep herself in the spotlight. I guess I picked up a few things over the years.”
“Do you get your exceptional taste in art from her too?”
“Oh, no. I majored in Art History in college.” Melanie cheeks turned pink. “My parents said I’d never need a career, so I chose something I liked. I’m not creative like you, but I appreciate the beauty in art.”
I smiled at her. “You should open your own gallery.”
“I…I would actually love that,” she replied, but the light in her eyes dulled. “But my parents wouldn’t approve.”
“But with your collection and ability to—”
“Shall we watch that movie now?” Melanie interrupted, moving back to the lounge.
My eyebrows rose. “Sure.” It was clearly a sensitive topic, so I let it go.
We deliberately chose a predictable romantic comedy, so we could talk throughout and not miss any major plot turns. The endless drinks, together with our hilarious narrative, made the movie way more entertaining than expected, and I was genuinely enjoying myself.
Our laughter was so loud, we barely heard the key in the door as the credits rolled. Nursing the remains of my cocktail, I poked Amy to see if she had passed out (she had) and watched Melanie pour herself another glass of red wine. This girl can drink.
My amusement faded when Grayson’s gaze struck mine as he walked through the front door. He looked so damn sexy in that faded Lakers cap, I shoved a cushion in my face to stop myself from gawking.
“Hey, babe! How was the game?” Melanie asked, turning towards him.
“Shit,” he mumbled, throwing his keys on the entry table.
Melanie chuckled. “But didn’t you win?”
I peeked over the pillow as he trudged into the kitchen, grumbling. “We should go,” I said, tugging Amy’s arm to stir her awake.
“But I’m soooo comfy,” she slurred, snuggling deeper. “You never told me how cosy this couch was.”
Anxiety filled my body, hoping Melanie wouldn’t read anything into Amy’s words. “I’m calling a cab.”
“You shouldn’t be catching a cab at this time of night,” Grayson said, walking into the room with a bottle of water. “I’ll drive you both home.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” I slipped on my oversized hoodie in preparation to leave.
“No, it’s not. You’re clearly drunk, and it’s in my best interest to get you home safe.”
“I’m not that drunk,” I muttered.
Grayson impatient gaze fell to my outfit and Melanie laughed.
