Page 10 of Proposal Play

“I’ll be there,” she adds quietly.

“I know,” I say, a little like Han Solo, but I can be cocky for a moment. It’s a good feeling to know she’ll be there.

It’s a feeling I don’t want to ever lose.

3

SNAKE GIRL

Maeve

How stupid am I? I can’t believe I did that. I can’t believe I nearly ruined his night, and for what?

For nothing.

I shut the door to a stall. I don’t have to pee, but I need to get myself together before I go back in there. I yank off some toilet paper and daub under my eyes as Angelina’s words replay in my mind.

They received an influx of portfolios at the last minute, so they won’t be making their decision yet.

But I submitted mine early, so that means it wasn’t good enough to make it to the final round. If it were, they wouldn’t care about the last-minute submissions.

Story of my adult life. I can’t catch a break. Maybe the universe is trying to give me a sign—give up painting. Toss the towel in on making art. No one makes a living as an artist anyway. You’re not special.

That’s certainly the message I get from my auntVivian, though hers is coated in honey and laced with a little vested interest. She says things like, “Oh, sweetie, it’s too hard to make it as an artist. Just work with me instead.”

I try to shut out both voices with a few deep breaths as the main door to the ladies’ room swings open. The clock is ticking. Wallow time is over. But shoes click, and a voice carries.

“I’m so ready. Daddy upped the limit on my card, so I got an advance to bid on Asher,” a soprano voice says gleefully.

Hand on the latch, I tip my head closer, straining to catch every word.

“And when people think I’m dating him, I’ll get soooo many new followers for the brand,” she adds. “I’ve laid all the groundwork by wearing his jersey in videos. One date, and it’ll be catnip for clicks.”

My skin crawls, and I gasp silently, but I don’t move.

The other woman’s voice is softer, almost cautious. “It sounds like a great plan, but…are you sure this is the best way to go about it? What if it backfires?”

“Backfire? No way. He’s dating someone new every few months. It’ll be easy to pull off.”

“People might see through it,” the careful one says.

“Ever heard of Photoshop? I’ll take so many pics of us, change my outfits in them, and then I can just dole them out like we’re totally a thing. The timing will be perf. People believe what you tell them.”

My temperature shoots through the roof as I peer through the slat, glimpsing jet-black hair and a spray tan.

Her.The one launching a new beauty line. And she’s planning to use Asher to do it.

I burn, then I break, fumbling with the latch as I pushopen the door to give her a piece of my mind. “Are you for real?” I bite out. But the liar-to-be is already scurrying out of the restroom, ready to spin fables about my friend.

I beeline for the ballroom, debating tactics on the way and not sure confronting her will do a thing. Instead, I try to devise a more clever solution to her kind of trickery. It’s not like I can dramatically shout,Stop, thief!from the doorway. She’d laugh it off and call me crazy. I could race backstage and tell Everly, but what could she do? Disqualify a bidder on account of me overhearing a ladies’ room convo?

I certainly can’t outbid an heiress and her daddy’s money. I’m…nobody.

Pissed off and penniless, I join my brother, slumping into the cushioned chair with aharrumph.

“In the nick of time,” Beckett says, then eyes me suspiciously, arching a brow. “Are you wearing Asher’s vest?”

“Vests are totally in, babe,” Reina tells him, like it’s the moment for a gentle fashion correction. “And you look hot,” she tells me.

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