Page 40 of Pretend Girlfriend

It was very satisfying to hang up on him. He didn’t call me back, but he sent a text a few minutes later:

Landon: Do whatever mom says. I trust your judgment. But if you screw it up, you can kiss that job goodbye.

Gee, thanks for the reminder. Like I had forgotten why I was doing all of this.

Asshole.

Before putting my phone down, I realized I had another text.

Theo: Just got in my Uber. I’ll be there in 26 minutes.

Fuck. I had forgotten about Theo. Fuck fuck fuck.

I called him and said, “I have bad news.”

“Let me guess: you’re going to insist I wear the jersey,” he speculated. “I’m okay with it, as long as you don’t make me put on a hockey mask this time. But in the future, that’s negotiable. I don’t kink shame.”

“Tell your Uber driver to turn around. I’m not at my apartment anymore.”

I quickly caught him up to speed on the situation with Marisa.

“Well that sucks. Now I’m just sitting in an Uber with a raging hard on. And I think this conversation is making my driver uncomfortable. Sorry, bro.” That last part wasn’t for me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to give you blue balls.”

He sighed. “It’s not your fault.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Use your imagination. I have to go. Sorry again. And thanks for my jersey!”

The country club where they were getting married was in North Chicago, overlooking the calm waters of Lake Michigan. I had to admit it was pretty nice… even if it was still a stuffy country club.

There were a dozen or so rooms attached to the club, all of which were blocked off by the Cozart family. I checked in at the front desk, and a bellhop led me to the room I would be sharing with Landon.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I stepped inside. There were two twin beds. I was terrified that they would give us one bed and we would have to share. How cheesy would that have been?

After freshening up, I took a sexy selfie of my ass; the only fabric was an extremely small thong. I sent that to Theo with an apology note, then put on a robe and went downstairs to meet Marisa and the rest of the bridesmaids in the clubhouse parlor, where everyone was getting ready. But as I walked through the lobby, a smooth McConaugheyesque voice called out to me.

“Joanna. A word, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Austin was sitting in the corner of the lobby, plucking at an acoustic guitar. I slowed down long enough to respond, “I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

“It will only take a moment. I promise.” There was a warning in those piercing blue eyes. Like I would regret it if I didn’t hear him out.

Sighing, I walked over to him in the corner. “You have two minutes.”

“Only need one. Heard you got called up to the big leagues.”

“I’m a bridesmaid now, if that’s what you mean.”

“Now that’s real nice,” he drawled while twisting one of the knobby things at the top of the guitar. “I have a small favor to ask.”

“I hope it’s small, because I’m all out of favors to give today.”

He plucked a chord, paused to listen, then tweaked the guitar knob again. “The beautiful bride to be is probably having second thoughts about the wedding right now. Since you’re spending the next few hours with her, I want you to feed those doubts.”

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