Page 71 of The Wrong Promise

I laugh to lighten the mood. “I know, right? I only have topretend to be his girlfriend for a few more days so Franklin and Jobe can sign the contract.”

She scrunches her face. “It’s already signed.”

“What? Oh, Jobe probably mentioned it, but I didn’t absorb it because I’ve been so sick.” He lied again. But then, he could have ended our fake relationship and didn’t…

“Yeah, so you don’t need to fake-fake it.”

“Great.” I roll my eyes for her benefit. “I can relax and have a few more champagnes.” I wink at her. Only I can’t stop thinking that there is no need for me to attend. My presence is no longer required, and I’m filled with conflict about not wanting us to end.

“Ugh, I wish I was there with you.” She pulls a sad face.

“We’ll make up for it when I’m home. See if Hugh is also free.”

She smiles at the screen. “I’d like that.” She waves to me. “I’ll talk to you after the gala to see how you coped with Jobe beingJobe.”

I laugh. “Get well, babe.”

When the screen goes blank, I let out a long, conflicted sigh. I’m relieved she can’t make it and possibly catch on to my true feelings for Jobe, but I also miss my friend.

The makeup artist finally leaves.At times, it felt as though my face was a blank canvas, and she was creating a masterpiece that was going to take days to complete. I asked her several times not to apply it so damn heavy. I’m going to a formal ball, not a nightclub to pick up some random.

I change into my gown, one that Jobe’s stylist selected and had delivered here. Either he has great taste, or his stylist is a fashion icon. It’s a tasteful low-cut gown, champagne in color, and covered in sequins, heavy aroundthe hem and fading to lightly scattered over my waist and heavy at my chest. I feel like a princess and barely recognize myself in the mirror.

The jeweled accessories are minimal yet make a statement. Drop diamond earrings dangle halfway down my neck and one diamond bracelet, which are on loan. My hair is down and curled perfectly. My reflection fools me that I could be someone who would be on Jobe Hendricks’ arm.

I grab the diamond clutch purse and head into the kitchen. Jobe stands from the couch, his eyes all over me. I expect him to say something, but he remains silent.

“Do I look okay?” I twirl on the spot.

“Zara…” he shakes his head, blowing out a breath, “… you look fucking delicious.”

Not what I was expecting.

“Thank you, I think. But I don’t want Sir James having those thoughts.”

He comes to stand mere feet away. His eyes hold mine, and there’s an intensity I haven’t felt in weeks. “Every man in the room will have those thoughts tonight.”

I smile at him, flattered in a way. I allow myself the time to check him out. “You look handsome yourself, as you always do in typical Jobe style.”

“I’ll take that as a good thing,” he says in a deep voice, his gaze unwavering.

I grin at him. “It is. It’s natural for you to look good.”

He frowns at me. Did I say the wrong thing?

“Do you not realize how beautiful you are? Ever since we met, you have mesmerized me to a point where I struggle to take my eyes off you.”

What?

His eyes darken, and then he holds out his hand. “We better leave because if we stay another second, I’m going to mess up your hair and makeup.”

Oh.“Let’s go then,” I say and swiftly head to the door.

I can’t let that happen. He sees this as our final night as a fake couple, but my heart is well and truly involved.

If I fall into his arms even one more time…

… I’ll never recover.

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