Page 40 of The Version You Hide

“What?”

“Not you, Dylan. Ugh, these caterers need to get their act together.” She huffs loudly into the phone, pausing before she throws another question at me. “Are you sure this girl is a good fit for you?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?” I surprise myself by how protective I am over my fake-date for the evening.

“She’s not like any of the other girls you’ve dated.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” I argue.

“Oh, Dylan,” she almost groans. “Seriously! You need to think this through.”

“Why?” I ask. “Just look at how well all those past relationships turned out.”

I realise I’m defending a relationship that doesn’t actually exist. But more than that. I’m defending Mackenzie. Whether I want to face it or not, I’ve started to care about her. To enjoy having her around. And the thought of anybody saying anything negative about her has my hackles rising.

“You know that being a member of this family comes with responsibility. We can’t just bring anyone into it and expect them to be able to keep up.”

“I know.” I drag my hand down over my face, knowing that she isn’t wrong. “She can handle it.”

I believe my words to be true. There are expectations involved with being a part of the Abbott family, or by association with any of us, but something tells me Mackenzie would do just fine.

I consider that I should give her a little insight into my background, but there’s no sense involving her when this is a one-time only fake date. After tonight, she won’t have to deal with my parents again, and weirdly that sends a ripple of disappointment through me.

“If you say so. I’ll see you soon.” My mother’s clipped tone echoes through my ears.

Without another word she’s hung up on me and I’m left with the choking sounds coming from the engine and impending thoughts of this car breaking down before I can make the journey out to the cape.

This car is so ancient it doesn’t even have electric windows and it’s unbearably stuffy in here with no working air-conditioning. I quickly wind down the driver’s side window before throwing the gears into drive.

A ball of dread builds in the pit of my stomach when I think about the expectations my parents will have for me tonight. No doubt they will want me to network with people I’d rather be leaving behind. To bend the truth for the sake of our family’s reputation.

Somehow, knowing that I’ll have Mackenzie by my side eases a little of that pressure. An unexpected smile makes its way across my face. I suddenly can’t wait to see her.

I step on the accelerator, eager to make the short distance across town to her house.

Chapter 14

MACKENZIE

“What do you think of this one?” Kristen thrusts yet another page of her bridal magazine under my nose, interrupting my view of the sketch pad in front of me.

We’re both sitting on the couch, me working on a drawing inspired by my underwater adventures last week, her flipping through the pages of her wedding planner as though her life depends on it. I didn’t have to work today, so we’ve pretty much spent the day together.

“I guess?” I say unhelpfully. I’m not sure I’m qualified to give an opinion on the subject of weddings.

“Ugh!” She groans in frustration. “There has to be something good in this magazine, but seriously, it all just seems so unrealistic. I mean, look at this. This woman is supposed to be having a backyard wedding. Where the hell does she even live? In the middle of a forest? And her hair! There’s no way it’s actually going to stay like that all day.”

I look up in mock horror. “You mean to tell me that the elaborate photo shoots in magazines that require an entire team of professionals and hours of work don’t simulate the real-life wedding experience?” I finish my rant with a 360-degree eyeroll which earns me a dead-eyed stare from Kristen.

“Okay, okay. I get it, smart ass.”

“Sorry,” I say with a sigh, not looking up from my sketch book. “I thought Liv was coming over to talk wedding stuff with you anyway.”

“She is,” she replies, slapping me on the knee with her rolled up magazine. “I just thought I’d ask my sister’s opinion too.”

“Hey!” I cry. “You bumped me!”

“Oops.” She winces, leaning over my shoulder to get a look at my work. “Hey, that’s actually really good. I wish I had your talent.”

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