Page 23 of Faking It With the Single Dad

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I think this could work.”

“Of course it works,” Lacy says, digging through my makeup bag. “Now, sit down. I’m making you look like the goddess you are.”

I sit at the little vanity in the corner of my room, letting her work her magic. She brushes and curls my hair, pinning a few strands back while leaving the rest to cascade over my shoulders. Then, she adds a touch of makeup—just enough to highlight my features without feeling heavy.

When she’s done, I barely recognize myself. My skin looks flawless, my eyes pop, and my lips have just the right amount of shine.

“You look amazing,” Lacy says, admiring her work.

I smile at my reflection. For once, I actually feel beautiful.

As I leave the house, I see Ryan leaning against his car, waiting for me. He’s wearing a dark suit that fits him perfectly. The jacket hugs his broad shoulders snugly, and his tie is slightly loosened in a way that gives him an effortless, polished look. He’s tall—taller than I remember, somehow, or my mind is playing tricks on me—and the way the streetlight hits his face makes him look almost unreal.

My heart skips a beat, but I quickly snap out of it.It’s just Ryan. Get a grip.

“You look nice,” he says.

“Thanks,” I say, trying not to fidget. “You…too.”

He opens the car door for me and I slide in, grateful for the moment to collect myself. The ride to the party is quiet but not awkward. We both know what’s waiting for us, but we aren’t ready to discuss it.

The party is at the Whitman estate, and it’s as fancy as I expected, complete with twinkling lights strung across the yard, a live band playing soft music, and people dressed to the nines. As soon as we walk in, heads turn.

“Is that Bella and Ryan?” someone whispers.

“I thought we were joking about those two,” another says.

“They showed up together? What an unfortunate pair.” I hear someone else laughing.

I grit my teeth and keep my head high, though the words hurt. Ryan doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he just doesn’t care. He’s too busy scanning the crowd, probably looking for someone worth talking to. A group of men approaches him almost immediately—Mark, Dan, and Steven, all guys from his old circle. They clap him on the back and start talking about business or sports or whatever it is men like them talk about.

“I’ll be back,” Ryan says to me.

“Take your time,” I say, forcing a smile.

I wander to the bar, needing something to take the edge off. The bartender hands me a glass of wine and I sip it slowly, trying to blend into the background. But then I hear my name.

“She doesn’t belong here,” a woman says.

I glance over and see a small group of women huddled together, all dressed in designer gowns. I recognize two of them—Hannah and Claire—and the pack leader is unmistakable: Mrs. Greenwich, Marlene’s aunt and the queen of Cedar Ridge gossip.

“She’s nothing like the women Ryan used to date,” Mrs. Greenwich continues, her voice dripping with disdain. “Remember Caroline? Or Vivienne? Now, those were real matches. I hear Vivienne is married to a governor, and Carolina won Miss USA.”

“What is he thinking? Bella is…plain,” Claire says, and they all laugh.

“I bet she’s just looking to push the responsibility for her son on him. How shameless can you be to go from one brother to another? Opening her legs for the entire family? That’s low.”

I choke on my wine, and the sound draws their attention.

“Oh,” Mrs. Greenwich says, her eyes narrowing as she spots me. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” I say tightly.

She steps closer, her heels clicking against the floor. “Well, that’s unfortunate for you, but if you think this is the part where we cower and feel guilty for badmouthing you, think again. Listen, dear. There’s no point pretending. You’re out of your league here. There’s nothing you can do to change that.”

Before I can respond, Ryan’s angry voice booms near me.

“That’s enough.”

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