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His laugh is deep and throaty. “I’m kidding.”
We’re out of the car and standing in front of the majestic house.
“Did you grow up here?” I look at him.
“Sure did.” He knocks and opens the door without waiting for someone to invite him in. I guess it is technically his house.
I smooth my pencil skirt over my thighs and mess with my silk top. It’s not my usual attire, but I wanted something nice and conservative. It’s an office chic look, which maybe is too serious for a party, but I didn’t have many other options. At least my strappy heels make the outfit flirty.
I can’t seem too uptight, or they’ll never buy our relationship.
Immediately, Tristan reaches for my hand and grins. “We need to act like we like each other.”
“I do like you,” I defend. “I think we’ve become friends, kinda.” I scrunch up my nose.
“Not that kind of like. Like, like. Attraction, chemistry, all that good stuff. This is necessary touching.“ He lifts our joined hands and winks.
My heart races like the winner at the Kentucky Derby. I don’t think I truly know what I’ve gotten myself into.
“Right.” I swallow thickly.
It’s not difficult to pretend I’m attracted to him, but I don’t know him that well. There’s more to a person than their looks. A lesson I’ve learned in the past years.
“Tristan, you came.” An authoritative voice catches my attention.
A man stands in front of us, holding a glass of amber liquid. He isn’t quite as tall as Tristan. His hair is thinning, and he’s got a bit of a belly, but the resemblance is there.
“Of course, I did, Dad.” Tristan’s voice is flat.
From what he told me, his dad didn’t give him much of a choice.
“I see you brought a friend. I’m Alexander.” He reaches his hand out as he scrutinizes me with sharp eyes.
“I’m Sage. It’s nice to meet you.” I shake his hand firmly, grateful my dad taught me a strong handshake from a young age.
“Sage? That’s a unique name.” Alexander studies me more closely, taking in my attire.
“It’s a family name.” I hold my chin up.
Internally, my heart is sprinting.
“Well, welcome to my home. Enjoy yourself. Tristan, make sure you wish your mother a happy birthday.”
“It’s the point of this shindig, right?”
My eyes widen at Tristan’s response.
His father sighs and shakes his head. “I expect you to behave.”
With that, he turns and walks away. Behind his back, Tristan salutes him. I giggle in surprise at his actions.
“Shindig?” I question with raised eyebrows.
“I like to push his buttons.” He shrugs.
“And you wonder why they’re giving you a hard time with the trust fund?” I cock my head.
His face drops. “They don’t even know me anymore. They cling to the idea of who I was instead of paying enough attention to realize that I’ve matured. Current gesture excluded.” He points a finger at me.
