Page 32 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

“You want me to call Ginny at the museum and put a good word in for you?” George asks.

I shake my head hard. “I need to be able to promote myself, too. But thanks. This is going to work out nicely, I think.”

I hope.

George grabs his tools and heads out then.

I call Grandma in from the outside and make us both some lunch. Volunteering at the museum. It could be fun.

“With any luck, it will help me get a new job,” I tell Grandma. “Nobody wants to hire a woman who is accused of having an affair with her boss.”

Grandma grunts. “You could ask Crimson and June to make their relationship public. Then nobody can use those rumors against you.”

That would mean I’d have to talk to them, though.

The thought makes me nauseated.

“I’m going to try this volunteering thing first,” I say. Then I add, “Besides, George and I have only started our fake engagement. You haven’t enjoyed enough drama from it yet.”

Grandma’s eyes gleam. “That’s right. I haven’t.”

Uh, oh.

What have I done?

Chapter nine

George

I’m at Lynn’s house, painting the living room after I’ve done my work for the day. Even though I’m exhausted and would like to go home, I know this is taking longer than Lynn would like.

She won’t admit it, but she’s getting antsy to have her house back in order.

It’s taking me longer by myself than I anticipated. I really do have to find some way to convince Lynn to let me bring my crew out.

Perhaps I should break down and accept her paying me. If I do that, then I can use that money on gifts for her.

Besides, I can always lowball the estimate.

Maybe I’ll see if Catherine can help me think of something.

Speak of the devil—not that Catherine is a devil—the door flies open. Through the arch between the living room and the entrance, I watch her kick off her shoes and throw her purse to the ground.

She starts storming off, then comes back and tidies up.

Did things go badly at the museum?

I put the roller back in the paint and pad over. “Catherine? Are you okay?”

Catherine flinches back from me.

I stop.

“I didn’t see you. Where’s your truck, I didn’t see it.” Catherine runs her hands through her hair. “Never mind, where’s my grandmother? I need to—”

Lynn comes out of the kitchen, her brows lifted in surprise. “What’s going on out here?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” I say.

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