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“I’m not a very good actress. Mushrooms were below the trees.”
“Oh. That’s fine. We’ll get this right.” I give her my best smile.
“You’ll guide me. If your parents are tough, then I’ll need to know the right things to say—and I’ll have to wear the right clothes.”
“I’ve got you covered.” I nod.
“What do I wear to this party?”
I rest my elbows on the counter and smirk. “A dress. Something nice but not over-the-top. If you need to buy something, I’ll pay for it.”
“No—“ She begins to argue, but I cut her off with my hand.
“Yes, this is for my benefit, so I’ll cover your expenses.”
“That won’t be necessary. I have a dress.” She crosses her arms.
I have a feeling Sage is going to give me a run for my money. She comes off as shy and introverted at first, but seeing her determination and stubbornness is proof that she won’t surrender easily. I like that.
“I’ll pick you up to go to the party. Let’s say seven? It starts at six-thirty, but they won’t expect me to be on time. We’ll tell them we met at a coffee shop.” I wink. “It’s not a total lie. You’re working as a barista while you take online classes. They’ll like that you’re working toward a college degree and will hope it will influence me to go to college, even if it’s later than planned. We’ll be the perfect duo.”
I’m getting excited about this. I rub my hands together as more ideas bombard me. I’ll go little by little. It’s obvious by her wide stare that Sage is overwhelmed.
“This seems wrong.” Her nose scrunches up.
“The only thing that’s wrong here is that my parents are so controlling that it’s led to this.” I shake my head, jaw ticking.
Sage is the perfect person to fill this role. She’s not familiar with my family besides what she’s recently been told, and we didn’t go to the same school.
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Twenty-five.”
“Oh, an older woman. I like it,” I tease with a wink.
Sage throws the rag at me, and it hits me in the face with a damp splat. Her laughter is music to my ears. This is a great plan. I can feel it. And I’ll be helping her out as well.
It’s a match made in coffee shop heaven.
7
Sage
“If we’re going to do this, we need some rules.” I turn to Tristan as he drives toward his parents’ house.
We should’ve spoken about this the other day at the coffee shop.
Tristan eyes me a moment.
“Like Fight Club.”
“Uhhh . . . never seen it.” I press my lips together.
“What?” he yells, appalled. “We need to rectify that.”
“First rule: No Fight Club,“ I say.
“Second rule: Throw out rule one,” he counters with a crooked smile.
