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I sigh, giving up writing.
Instead, I hit save and close my laptop. “It’s not what you think. But if I tell you the truth, you can’t tell anyone, understand?”
“Who would I tell?” she grumbles. “You’re my best friend.”
“Sarah,” I say sternly. “I need you to promise.”
“Fine, fine, I won’t tell anyone,” she concedes. “Now tell me what the fuck is happening.”
I open my mouth to explain, then realize I have no idea where to start.
Also, it’s 3:00 p.m., and I’m running out of time to go dress shopping.
“It’s kind of a long story,” I say. “How do you feel about helping me go wedding dress shopping while I explain?”
“You don’t have a dress yet? Jesus,” Sarah says. “This is a bigger mess than I thought.”
She doesn’t know the half of it.
* * *
The sales attendantat the first wedding dress store we go to laughs at us when I say I need a dress for next week. The sales attendant at the second place is a matronly woman who takes me aside and gently asks if I’ve thought this through.
Finally, Sarah gets exasperated. “You said you had a wedding planner. Get her contact info from Luke. Then tell her to get you an appointment.”
So I do. Although I phrase it a lot more politely.
Fifteen minutes later I receive a text message telling me I have an appointment at one of the most sought-after designer boutiques in the city. It’s a place that’s comedically out of my price range.
But I guess it’s not out of Luke’s.
Sarah and I trek over a few neighborhoods, which gives me time to fill her in on everything that’s happened since the moment Luke walked into my apartment and proposed fake marriage.
Once I explain it’s for my career, Sarah calms down a little bit.
“Ok, I see why you’re doing it,” I say. “But are you sure you can fake a relationship with Luke for six months without catching feelings?”
“Feelings? For Luke?” I laugh, a little too hard. “Sarah, you know how I feel about him. He’s cynical, and arrogant, and...” I reach for another negative adjective, but the truth is, he’s not exactly the spoiled rich guy I always thought. And if he’s cynical...well, maybe it’s hard to see the best in people when half the people around you work for you, or want your friendship because of what it can do for them.
Sarah sends me a pointed look. “There’s two ways to complain about a man, Hazel. You can complain because he’s a jerk and you wish he wasn’t in your life. Or you can complain because some part of you wants him in your life, but he’s a jerk.”
I wrinkle my nose. I don’t want her to be right. But the truth is, her assessment hits closer to the mark than I want it to.
“Look, the point is, I’m not going to catch feelings for Luke. And even if I did, he sees me as his best friend’s little sister,” I insist.
Sarah snorts. “Now that’s an even bigger pile of bullshit.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sarah points to fancy sign up ahead on the block. “Oh look, we’re here.”
Thankfully, she lets the conversation drop as we step into the shop and get down to the serious business of finding a wedding dress. When the sales attendant hears my name—and who I’m engaged to—she whisks us to a large, private dressing room in the back. It’s already full of a rack of dresses, and there’s snacks and champagne set out on a table near the couch.
Sarah’s face lights up at the snacks and champagne. She grabs a glass and settles onto the couch. “I’m beginning to see the advantages of marrying Luke.”
“It’s nice that your loyalty can be bought with alcohol and snacks,” I say.
The attendant clears her throat discreetly. “We’ve pulled a series of available dresses based on your measurements. Each of these dresses can be tailored to meet your requirements in time for the wedding.”
