Page 8 of The Spy Who Ghosted Me

What game was he playing? Whatever it was, I refused to engage. “I never mentioned him because it was just an incidental meeting. Inconsequential, really. We meant nothing to each other. Isn’t that right, Cash?” I glared at him, daring him to contradict me.

Cash rubbed the back of his neck, looking between Mama and me, not sure what to say. I didn’t know why this was so hard for him—the proof was in the pudding. His silence over the last three years spoke louder than words: I meant absolutely nothing to him.

The jerk finally let out a heavy exhale, and with it came a fiasco in the making the size of the Pacific Ocean. In a reckless move, Cash gazed at me like he used to in Bourdeaux. His look reminded me of carefree days at the park, lying on a blanket and talking about everything and nothing. I would peek my head up to catch him looking at me with the most tender expression on his face, making me feel as if I could be his everything and he could be mine. That same look now sent a shock wave of confusion and pain through me. He had no right to look at me that way, or worse, declare, “Sabrina, I know it seems that way, but meeting you was one of the most significant events of my life.”

I clenched my hands, so badly wanting to call him out for his lie, but everything around us stilled as Cash’s words seemed to reverberate across the property for everyone to hear.

Thankfully, Bridezilla, I mean my sister, clued into what was happening. She wouldn’t stand for anyone or anything outshining her moment. And believe me, Cash was shiny to Mama, like a newly minted gold coin.

Lexi marched over, pulling her fiancé behind her, to remind everyone that she was the star of the show. She had tresses of deep brown cascading over her shoulders and wore a floral-embroidered, lacy maxi skirt with a matching cropped blouse that showed off her toned abs. As always, she was stunning.

“Sabrina, you need to hurry and get ready. You can’t wear that to my bridal shower.” She pointed at my sweater and jeans. “But first, you need to finally meet Soren.” She made it sound as if it were my fault we hadn’t met yet. She’d only been dating him since June, and they were engaged by August, so it’s not like I’d had a lot of time to meet the guy. I had a business to run, and if it were that important for me to meet him, they could have flown out to see me. I’d even suggested it, seeing as Soren apparently had plenty of money to throw around.

Lexi yanked Soren front and center, reminding Mama that Soren was shiny too. He certainly was pretty. His golden hair falling in a curtain cut was abnormally bright, as if he’d left the bleach on for too long. His facial features were so sharply cut, they looked manufactured. Sure, I’d seen the thousands of pictures my sister had sent to me in the last few months, gushing about him. But Mia and I thought he was a little fake looking, and being up close and personal really drove it home.

“This is Soren,” she bubbled over with effervescence. Okay, she gloated.

Soren stepped forward to shake my hand. “Sabrina,” he said in his Norwegian accent. Well, kind of. He didn’t pronounce the r like I expected him to, given my exposure to a few Norwegians during my time in France. “It’s so lovely to meet you.” He didn’t darken the i like most Norwegians. Huh.

Regardless, I took his hand. As soon as we touched, a chill went through me—not the good kind. Not that my sister’s fiancé should give me the good chills—that would be plain wrong—but he also shouldn’t make me want to crawl out of my skin either. Up close, I could see right into his eyes, and behind the unusual blue, which I’m pretty sure were contacts, lurked something dark and seedy. Also, the crinkles around his eyes didn’t match his overly smooth face and his age of thirty-five. Or maybe I was just tired and on edge from the strangest day ever.

Soren kept hold of my hand, waiting for me to respond, but my brain didn’t know how to react. Part of it begged me to say something appropriate, but the other part screamed for me to run away as fast as I could. In the midst of my warring brain signals, Cash slid right next to me in a protective stance. As much as I hated him for it—I knew how my mama would interpret it—a comfort washed over me, allowing me to speak. “It’s nice to meet you too,” I stuttered out my lie.

Soren dropped my hand, eyeing Cash carefully. “Lexi didn’t mention you were bringing a date to our wedding.”

I stepped away from Cash. “I didn’t. We’re not together,” I fumbled.

“That can change,” Mama chimed in.

Lexi narrowed her eyes at me, silently warning me not to rain on her parade. She didn’t need to fear on that front. But ... I got this icky feeling that maybe she should fear Soren. Maybe I was losing it. Surely my parents would have noticed something off, right? This had to be my exhaustion talking. Surely, after a good night’s sleep I wouldn’t see my soon-to-be brother-in-law as anything but an upstanding guy. Except now that I thought about it, he didn’t spell Soren the Norwegian way with a slash through the o. He probably wanted to sound more American, right? There was nothing fishy about it. Or was there?

Mia caught my eye, squinting and cringing, wondering what she could do to defuse the awkward situation. Thankfully, my daddy, who had been standing back like a smart man, stepped forward. “Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Daddy.” I mustered a smile for the greatest man on earth, Mercer Belle. Something about his tall frame, thick silver hair, and soft voice lent to his calm and regal demeanor. It was a balm to my soul.

“I’m sure you’re tired after your long day. Let’s get you settled,” Daddy offered.

I nodded, so thankful for him. I was just about ready to run into his arms when he said, “I’m sure your friend here wouldn’t mind helping you with your luggage.”

“Not at all, sir,” Cash was quick to say.

What was this? This wasn’t Daddy’s style at all. I made to protest, but Lexi clucked her tongue and tsked like a pro before grabbing Soren and blowing out of there, barking orders. “Just hurry, and don’t forget to wear something in my colors.” Yes, my sister was color coordinating every bridal event, from the shower to the bachelorette party—something about wanting all the photos to be Instagram worthy. She’d gone so far as sending Mia and me a color palette she’d designed on Pinterest titled “Earthy Wedding Colors,” which included shades of cream, terra-cotta, and hunter green.

Oddly, Soren kept looking back at Cash as Lexi dragged him away. Something about Cash seemed to have him disconcerted. Hmm. Cash disconcerted me as well, but I didn’t believe it was for the same reasons as Soren.

Cash didn’t seem at all bothered by Soren’s behavior. His blank stare said, Feel free to look. I know I’m all that and a bag of chips.

Mama thwarted my next attempt at sanity when she strung her arm through Mia’s. “Mia, darlin’, Drew is eager to see you.” Oh, Mama was good. Too good. Drew Charleston was Mia’s kryptonite. He managed the horse ranch on the property and ran excursions for our guests. As much as she had tried to deny her feelings for him over the years, somehow whenever Mia visited, she and Drew ended up spending a lot of time together. It always ended with her telling him she wanted something more than our hometown, and him telling her he couldn’t love her more than this place. That was a lie—they were just too stubborn to compromise. Who knows, maybe this would be the time one of them budged. Selfishly, I hoped it was Drew who would be willing to move out West. Our little business was just starting to really take off, and we had a loan to pay off.

Mia waved at me and mouthed, Sorry, as Mama led her inside.

That left me with Cash.

“Why did you lie to my mama?” I demanded to know as soon as everyone was out of earshot.

“I don’t think I’m the one who lied.” He smirked.

“Are you kidding me? You disappear without even a goodbye and then show up out of nowhere, and I’m the liar? It’s obvious I meant nothing to you, so pardon me if I don’t want to own up to knowing you.”

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