Page 2 of Matched with Her Fake Fiance

My eyes catch on a man striding toward us. His broad shoulders are accentuated by his suit, and when my gaze drifts up to his face, I feel like the heart eyes emoji.

“Did you and Clay get back together?” Amber says, pulling my attention back to her face. Her lips turn up into the perfect pout, her lipstick a dark shade of red. Her dress is stunning, the emerald color of the gems enhancing her skin tone. And now I feel like an old-time governess in my A-line tulle skirt and homemade jewelry from one of my new roommates. My blouse is the newest thing I’ve bought in the past four years, but it’s almost like a wilted flower next to Amber.

I shake my head. “No, that ship sailed, far, far away.” Why can’t I think of a better comeback line when I need it? If only I had caught onto all the red flags sooner in our five-and-a-half-year relationship. I’m in a good place now, as long as I keep moving forward.

“What about you? Did you come here by yourself?” My tone is snippy, and I need to rein in the sarcasm before it goes full tilt. No need to ruin a Friday night over her ridiculous antics.

The man I ogled not moments before stops next to her, his eyebrows pinched together. “Is there something wrong, Amber?”

Of course the hot guy is with her.

She gives him a coy smile and shakes her head, her perfect curls hardly moving. What does she use in her hair? Maybe it would help my slightly frizzy locks make it through this humid Boston summer.

“No, Danielle here graduated with me this past spring.”

I grit my teeth in an attempt to be civil. Amber knows my dislike of my full name and yet she tries to use it at every turn. Boston may be a big city, but apparently not big enough to avoid my enemies.

The man standing next to her turns to me and nods, giving me a forced smile. “Congratulations on your graduation.” He turns back to her and asks, “Did you get a table?”

Amber’s nose turns up and she says, “Can’t we go to Trey’s party, Miles? I’m sure there will be plenty of food there.” Her attention focuses on me once again and she says, “Sorry to be so rude. This is Miles Clark, heir to the Clark Medical Group.”

Rude my behind. She’s just trying to rub it in that she’s got an heir at her side, while I’m waiting on someone who hasn’t even called to tell me he’d be late. It’s a well-known common courtesy.

The man shakes his head. “You don’t have to introduce me to everyone like that.” He steps forward with his hand outstretched. “I’m just Miles.”

I take his hand and shake it a bit. His hand is strong and large, nearly dwarfing mine. There are no thick calluses, which is different from my typical dates. Not that I even have a chance to date him. Just another reason I wasn’t meant for the upper crust of society.

“Well, Just Miles. I’m—"

“Dani,” a familiar voice calls, and I turn to see Cameron coming up the walk. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t find parking.”

I paste on a smile and shake my head. “I told you parking is hard to find around here.” It’s nearly impossible to find parking anywhere in Boston. It’s the reason I only use my car when I’m heading out of the city completely.

Cameron glances up and his face goes all soft, but I realize he’s not looking at me. “Hey,” he says.

“Hello,” Amber says. “Oh, Danielle, were you able to find a boyfriend after Clay dumped you? That’s so sweet.” The fake tone in her voice only grates on my nerves further.

“This is—” I begin before Cameron cuts me off.

“We’re not together,” he says. I whirl around with a wide-eyed expression.

“We’re on a date,” I say through clenched teeth.

Something passes over Cameron’s face and I can’t quite describe it. Maybe it would be better if I go home now. Cut my losses and enjoy a chick flick with my roommate, Kenzie.

“Isn’t that great?” Amber says, and I’m sure I could die right here. “Why don’t you sit with us?”

“I’m sure they want to sit by themselves, Amber,” Miles says, moving one hand up to straighten his tie.

I nod. “Yeah, we’ll see you n—”

“That would be great. The more, the merrier,” Cameron says. He walks over and opens the door for Amber and Miles. He follows close behind, letting the door shut before I’ve moved from my spot on the sidewalk.

I wave to no one and say, “Don’t worry about me.”

They’re already walking toward one side of the dim restaurant. Now I’m wishing we’d gone to a sports bar or something. That would be easier than this romantic vibe.

Cameron is practically salivating over Amber like she’s some kind of treat as he waves for me to scoot into the booth.

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