Page 23 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

“Oh, you know—a little travel, a few pretty women along the way and I’ve been doing some investing in real estate. How about you? I heard you brought someone, a girlfriend.” He smirked into his glass.

“I did bring someone.”

“A decoy?” he smirked again.

I wasn’t in the mood for this. “Where’s Rachel?”

Bryan glanced around as if she was hanging around, even though she clearly wasn’t. “Who knows? Probably trying a new hairstyle for the hundredth time. She’s got that shrieky friend, Chloe, with her. That’s her maid of honor, and they’ve had a parade of hair and makeup artists marching through the house all week. Can you believe she’s marrying that guy? The other day, he tried to tell me a joke, and it fell awkwardly flat. I couldn’t even work up a polite fake laugh?—”

“You don’t know how to do polite or fake. You’ve never had to.”

“Big brother, you finally graced us with your presence.” I spun around. Rachel looked thin, too thin, and she’d gone a bit overboard on the spray tan. She was wearing a yellow sundress and gripping a glass of wine as if it was her lifeline. There was no sign of her cardboard cutout fiancé.

Rachel’s hug was far tighter and longer than I expected. I leaned back and looked directly at her. She quickly averted her eyes and laughed airily. “Has mom cornered you yet?”

“There was an ambush on the staircase.”

Rachel glanced around. “So, where is she? Where’s the mystery woman?” There was enough of a grin on her face to assure me she’d already figured out my plan.

“Isla is taking a hot bath. We had a long trip.”

Rachel reached over and flicked some small invisible particle off my shirt. “Have you met her?” she asked cryptically.

“Isla? Yes, we drove up here together, and we’ve been together six months.”

She laughed dryly. “Sure, you have. I’m talking about—the other woman. Mom invited her friends, the Carltons, and their daughter, Alexandria.”

“Oh, yeah.” Bryan found a reason to join the conversation. “She’s hot.” He waved his hand back and forth as if he’d just touched a hot stove. “I think Mom might have delivered this time.”

“Doesn’t matter. I brought someone, and we’re serious.” Bryan was my brother, but I’d never trust his taste in anything. I threw back the rest of the drink. (Even his taste in whiskey was questionable.)

I could hear my mom’s laugh, a practiced, nasal sound, coming through the French doors. “Well, I guess I’d better jump into the sea of sharks.” I looked at Rachel.

She lifted her brows and put a hand to her chest. “You’re on your own. I already sat through two cocktails and three of mom’s passive-aggressive comments, so have fun.” She patted my back. “She’s probably got a lot of those same comments saved up for the son she hasn’t seen in months. She’ll mention that too because she brings it up to me constantly.” Her dress twirled with her as she turned and left the room. Bryan refilled his glass and flopped down in one of dad’s leather chairs to let me know he’d had enough of the cocktail party, too.

“Coward,” I muttered as I headed out to the veranda. The sun was setting, leaving a pinkish sky and a nice breeze. It was as if my mom ordered the picturesque sunset for her cocktail party. The usual people—my parents’ friends, my dad’s brother, Jim, his wife, June, along with a few other people I recognized but hardly knew—were standing and sitting in clusters on the veranda. Dad stood under one of the shade umbrellas talking to a group of friends. I didn’t need to hear the conversation to know the topic was either business or golf. He barely looked my way. My mom was sitting next to an older woman I’d never met. The woman had dark hair tucked under a straw hat. Dark sunglasses covered most of her face. A long strand of pearls hung down from her neck. Mom spotted me and leaned closer to her to say something. The woman looked my way, lifted her sunglasses and smiled. She then turned back to my mom for a few more whispers.

“Darling, come over and meet my new, dear friend, Patricia Carlton.” It seemed I was about to meet the mother of the woman I was to be matched with. She’d invited them for the weekend even though I made it clear that I would bring a date along. My mom was at the top of her controlling, pushy game, it seemed.

I nodded. “Luke. Nice to meet you.”

“Patricia came with her daughter, Alexandria.” My mom swiveled around on the rattan sofa to glance out at the grounds. “She took a walk, but she hasn’t returned. I do hope she didn’t get lost. Maybe you should go look for her, Luke.” Mom’s exuberant, charming expression vanished at something behind me. “Oh, your little friend is here.”

We had company, so I had to bite my tongue. I spun around. The breath caught in my chest. Isla reallydidfit the angel nickname. Her silky blonde hair was pinned back from her face. She was wearing a pin-striped, blue sundress with a halter top and a pair of short brown boots. It took me a second to find my smile and my feet. I moved toward her. People turned her direction, but she didn’t seem to notice. She kept her focus on me.

“Was the bath everything you hoped it would be?”

A white smile lit up her face. “It was and more. There were bubbles, enough so that I nearly lost my way in there. Like a bubble blizzard.”

“Luke, why don’t you let your friend sit with us women, so we can get to know her.” Mom patted a seat cushion next to her on the sofa.

“Isla,” I told my mom sharply. “Her name is Isla, and I think I’ll take her on a tour of the grounds first.”

Mom laughed and added one of those pearl-clutching gestures. “We’ll be nice, Luke. I promise.”

“The fact that you have to make that promise says it all. I’m going to show Isla around.” I was done with my mom and her group of judgy friends. I took Isla’s hand, but before I could lead her to safety, Nina, one of my mom’s more venomous friends and heiress to a peanut butter fortune, lobbed an arrow our direction.

“Darling, I love that dress. Did you sew it yourself?” That was of course considered a top-notch insult in my mom’s world of designer duds, but Isla didn’t seem to mind.

---