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“My dad would have done the same. So timeline-wise—we’ve been dating a month?”
“That works. And I obviously wouldn’t know everything about you in only a month. Makes the story more realistic.”
I lick my bottom lip, slight warning bells clanging in the back of my mind.Don’t get involved. This is only a fake date. Just like in Cinderella, the spell will disappear by tomorrow at midnight.
“I should go…” My voice catches, disappointment sneaking up on me and bursting my bubble. It had been fun talking to Spence about our make-believe relationship and I kind of hate to disconnect, but know I shouldn’t let my guard down.
“Oh, right, it’s getting late. What time should I pick you up tomorrow?”
My heart hammers at his words, even as my brain reasons that’s the expectation in a dating situation.
“I’m setting up before the wedding, so I’ll already be up at the chapel. We can meet before the ceremony, say around four p.m.? Charity should be ready by then and my assistant’s handling the reception.”
“Oh, fancy. You have an assistant.”
“Don’t be too impressed. I hire a local college student for my larger events. It’s only a part-time gig.”
“Still. Sounds impressive.”
Warmth spreads through me at Spence’s words, genuine and kind. He couldn’t be more different from Bentley if he tried—and that’s definitely a checkmark in the pro column.
“Oh Madison—one more thing. What color’s your dress?”
“What?”
“Your dress. For tomorrow. What color is it?”
“Light pink. Why?”
“So I can coordinate with you.”
“Like prom?”
“Exactly. Makes for better pictures.”
Oh. My. Gawd. This man’s an Instagram dream date.
I take a shaky breath, blow it out. “Night, Spence. And thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m a little rusty on my Electric Slide moves.”
I giggle. “See you tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams, Madison Leigh.”
Disconnecting, I float down the hall to my bedroom, already half in love with my fake date.
Maybe fairytales really do come true…
6
MADISON LEIGH
My assistant,Jolie, and I bust tail all morning, setting up for the wedding ceremony and reception. I’m glad I talked Charity out of the beach location because it’s a chilly fifty degrees and overcast. The little white chapel at the edge of the grounds is much warmer, with a nice intimate vibe.
Jolie helps me fasten each wooden pew with the hanging ribbon-and-hydrangea arrangements, then we haul in the oversized vases of pink roses and white calla lilies to flank the altar. Our last task is unrolling the white satin aisle runner, covering the light wood floor. Done at the chapel, we hop in the Happily Ever Afters van and wind our way down the tree-lined path to the Grand Ballroom at the resort.
“Let’s unload at the back door, then I’ll move the van.” I slow the vehicle down to almost a crawl to avoid bumping around on the red cobblestones. The last thing I need is one of the glass table centerpieces toppling over right before the big event.
