Page 11 of Fool Me

They spent another twenty minutes trying on piece after piece, and Sadie sensed Grant reaching some type of limit. He kept shifting on his feet and could barely stand still. Any second now, the glorious, full on, tedium meltdown she intended for him would ensue.

“I’ll be right back, okay? Need to find the men’s room,” he said, finally.

“Dang,” Sadie muttered after he’d left. He only needed a bathroom break. This guy sure had some stamina.

Sadie didn’t need a bathroom break, but she could use a few minutes off her feet. She spotted a chair between two of the jewelry tables and slumped into it, keeping an eye out for Grant so she could hop back up and pretend she’d been shopping the entire time he’d been gone. Truth be told, she never needed to see another necklace, bracelet or set of earrings. The pieces were beautiful, but they were too large and ornate for her. Her favorite necklaces were thin chains, and her favorite earrings were studs or tiny dangles. She couldn’t pull off accessories like these. This jewelry would wear her.

Without warning, a pair of strong hands wrapped gently over her shoulders from behind. She glanced up and back to see Grant smiling down at her as he gave her a few gentle, massage-style squeezes. She gathered steam to object, but his thumbs found the exact points where she held tension. A girl could get used to this. She closed her eyes to the deliciousness of it, then reminded herself sternly who owned those hands. Was she this easily conned? Pulling forward and out of his grasp, she stood up. “You snuck up on me.”

“Sorry! You looked kinda exhausted sitting there so I thought…but hey, on my way back I think I might have found the perfect thing. Come see.”

He’dfoundherthe perfect thing? This should be good. She let him take her hand and he brought her to a table with jewelry that appeared to be intended for children. The moment they approached, the jewelry seller reached for Sadie’s palm and set a dainty pair of earrings into it. Sadie couldn’t help herself when she peered down at them—she gasped lightly. Ruby-color glass briolette drops dangled from a bell-shaped gold filigree base set with a rainbow of tiny, faceted stones. They were exactly what she wanted—not too large, but still gorgeously exotic and vibrant. The ideal finish to any little black dress. A mirror appeared in front of her, and the woman encouraged her to try them on. She did, and they were perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“How much?” she asked.

“Those are fifty.”

“Ah, okay,” Sadie said, handing them back. Despite the reasonable price, her budget didn’t stretch that far. “Let me think about it and I’ll probably come back.”

She turned away and Grant followed. How had he done that? She’d tried her best to bore him out of his skull, and instead he’d divined the exact earrings she had in mind and found them on his own! Dang it! He sure wanted to please Julia with these fake dates. Or, more likely, wanted her to find some jewelry—any jewelry—so they could stop trinket shopping and eat more food. Yep. That had to be it.

At this point, she could sympathize. Her eyeballs were going to start flipping like a slot machine window if they had to stare at one more gold and sparkly thing. But that didn’t mean surrender. She needed another strategy for unsettling him, and fast. Her brain ached with the effort. Come to think of it, her feet ached too. Was Grant as good at foot massages as he was at shoulder massages? She mentally slapped herself. He would never touch her feet!

“Are you okay?” Grant said, gazing into her eyes with what appeared to be real tenderness but obviously couldn’t be. “I saw an activity we can do over there that looked fun and involves sitting. Want to try that?”

Fresh out of caring, Sadie nodded dumbly, then let Grant—still smiling and fresh as a newborn daisy despite the heat and the endless bauble shopping—lead her away.

7

“To Mom and Dad,” the sisters said in unison to start off their Sunday sister brunch the following morning.

Ginny held up her phone, which Sadie knew was full of glowing comments and swoon-worthy pics. Grant holding Sadie’s hand. Grant feeding her a dosa. Grant grinning ear-to-ear as they waited for their matching henna tattoos to dry—because that had been the sitting activity he’d thought of.

“Did you destroy him yet?” Ginny asked, blinking at her with false innocence.

Sadie knew all about these photos. She had cursed each one as it materialized on her social media platforms—when she wasn’t furiously scrubbing the tops of her hands to rid herself of the flowers and vines artfully dancing across them. Her plan for their first date had completely backfired, obviously, and Sadie still berated herself for it. She’d managed to give him more positive press than his handful of movie parts had ever done!

“This one’s especially good,” Ginny said, “Grant Curries Favor with Mystery Girl.” She sent a pointy elfin elbow into Sadie’s right arm and wiggled her eyebrows at her suggestively. “You’re a mystery girl now.”

Monique scowled into her coffee. “He’s gorgeous, Sadie. Like Robert Redford and Brad Pitt have a son. And you look like you’re having a pretty good time yourself. You look like a couple.”

“We’re not. I’m not. I’m acting,” she replied.

“You’d better be,” Monique said. “Million-dollar spinster-pact acting.”

Sadie let out a giant sigh. “Everything went wrong. I expected him to throw a hissy fit at that place, and instead he loved it. He even hopped up on stage and tried his hand at Bollywood dancing.”

“And he’s got moves!” Ginny said, ever so helpfully pulling up a video clip of Grant’s hips gyrating to a deep drum beat as four women with languid arms and perfect skin taught him an entire Bollywood routine in under five minutes. Forcing him onstage had been Sadie’s idea. Country Boy would make a complete fool of himself. He hadn’t wanted to go, but she’d whined and insisted. And, of course, he’d brought the house down! Women literally tossed flowers at his feet. Was there no one on this Earth not fooled by him? No one but her, that is? Sadie turned her face away. “You’ve got to help me think up a better date.”

“Abetterone?” Ginny asked.

“I mean worse—worse forhim.”

“I’ve got no grudge against him,” Monique said, “but I do want these fake dates to be over with, so I'm willing to help. The way I see it, if date number two is a big enough disaster, there won’t be a number three.”

“I would love that!” Sadie said. She lifted her palms in supplication. “What do I do?”

“What’s he like?” Monique asked. “What’s he known for?”

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