Page 31 of The Princess and the Fraud

My fingers curled around the ten-dollar bill, ears going hot. Her voice was casual, but the words still settled wrong.You knew we were going to anyway. As if she thought I’d expected them to pay for me. The idea hit me like a punch to the gut.

I pressed the money to the table, and I couldn’t help it; I slipped into the Alderton-Du Ponte tone. “Enjoy the rest of your brunch.”

I almost ran into Monica when I turned around, and she had to pull her tray back before I crashed into it. “Sorry,” she said, but didn’t sound it.

I had a death grip on my purse strap as I hurried from the country club’s restaurant. A tight pressure squeezed the back of my throat, almost like I was about to throw up.You shouldn’t have done that, I thought as I walked away, spine stiff.You should’ve sat there. Why did you make everything so awkward?

“Heading out already?” Jeff, an older man who worked the country club’s valet, asked as he stepped up to me.

“Sorry for the trouble.” Instead of going to the employee lot when I’d pulled into Alderton-Du Ponte, I’d pulled up to the valet. I pinched my fingers tightly. “I can go get it myself?—”

“Bask in the luxury for once,” he told me with a wink. “I’ll be right back with it.”

As he hurried to get my car, I stood perfectly still, drawing in breath after quick breath. Goosebumps rose on my skin, but my cheeks were hot, my embarrassment kept me warm despite the chill outside.

Things had been off with Caroline and Annalise even before the other three joined our party.I’dfelt off. I couldn’t sink into the conversation the way I used to. My laughter came out forced, my responses a beat too slow. I felt like I was watching from the outside rather than being a part of it. What was wrong with me? Why was I uncomfortable around my friends? Contrary to what Mr. Roberts thought, there was nothing wrong with spending time with them. There was nothing awkward or uncomfortable about it—so what was my deal?

And Grant.Grant. Of course he would come back at some point. His parents lived here. His sister lived here. Eventually, I’d be confronted with him again. But why wouldn’t Caroline give me a heads up? Why hadn’t she mentioned it when Annalise brought it up?

I closed my eyes, and for a moment, I was transported back to that abnormally chilly night in June. The five-year anniversary of my mother’s passing. Annalise had her wedding that weekend, and Caroline, as her maid of honor, had been consumed with it as well. Of course, they had other things on their minds. It wasn’t fair of me to hold it against them. If it mattered that much, I should have said something.

But I hadn’t. I’d swallowed it down, told myself it wasn’t worth bringing up. That I was being selfish. That it would fade.

And maybe that was the problem. I buried things, convinced myself they weren’t important. I smiled when I was supposed to, laughed on cue, played my part.

Even when I wasn’t working, I had my Alderton-Du Ponte uniform on around my friends—polished, careful, never entirely myself.

You shouldn’t keep living a life you resent, Aaron had said all those months ago.Jump.

“You know how to make an exit, don’t you?”

I jerked around mid-spiral to find Aaron standing outside the double doors. “What are you doing out here?” I demanded with a frown. “Right, because you chasing after the help isn’t suspicious.”

“You’re notthe help.” He returned my scowl with one of his own, slipping his hands into his pants pockets. “And I told them my mother was calling me.”

“The one who disowned you?”

Aaron gave a slow blink, expression unchanging. His gaze darted to the worker at the valet station, but the man was more interested in something on his phone. “She cut me off,” he said tightly. “There’s a difference.”

“Did you tell Michael and Annalise about everything?”

Aaron didn’t reply. At least, not to that. “Fiona was only trying to gossip.”

It took me a second to understand the subject change, and I nearly scoffed. “She just likes to hear herself talk. She doesn’t bother me.” Before he called me out on that, I pressed on. “Why her, though? Out of all the women in the world, whyFiona Flannagan?”

“She wants to get married.”

I waited, but he didn’t go on. “It’s that simple?”

“For me, it is.”

Of course it was. For him, everything was easy. Nothing truly mattered. I did scoff this time, scrubbing a hand down my face, uncaring if I smudged my concealer. “I truly don’t belong at that table, do I?” I muttered to myself with a small laugh.

Aaron’s shoes clipped against the ground as he walked closer. “You should’ve told Fiona off for flaunting that guy in front of you.”

“Why? Did you have the perfect defense on the tip of your tongue? ‘Don’t talk to my woman that way’? Or wait, let me guess—’As if we’ll listen to the help’?”

Aaron’s frown deepened now into something harsher, brows scrunching with the severity. “Would you knock it off?”

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