Page 36 of Matched with Her Fake Fiance

Sonia hands me a couple bras in different colors and moves onto the tables of lacy underwear. “Probably something different than the other women he’s dated.”

“Have you known him long?” My curiosity is what’s gotten me to this point in life and I might as well embrace the chance to know more about Miles.

She reaches forward and pats my hand. “Oh honey, I’ve known him since he was born. I’ve been his mother’s personal shopper since her first big board meeting, when they had next to nothing.”

“So he brings all his girlfriends in here?” And suddenly I’m feeling small, crushing the growing hope that the fantasy in my head of a future with Miles in it just might work out.

“No, he’s never brought a woman here,” Sonia says, shaking her head. “Which goes to show the types of women he’s used to dating.”

She ushers me into a dressing room and I’m still hung up on her last comment. Does she mean that his ex-girlfriends or dates were high-maintenance and didn’t shop here? Or is she going to turn me into a miniature version of his mother?

I’ve only seen a couple images of his mom, and she has a lot of the same light features he does, along with the dark green eyes.

I try on what feels like a million different styles of bra. The ones we settle on actually make a difference, and I can tell now why having someone measure the girls is better than playing roulette with the ones on the racks.

I’ve never shopped this long and I think I submitted all decisions to Sonia half-way through. By the end of at least four hours, I think we’ve covered everything from shoes to accessories to formal wear. My brain is mush after giving my opinion on every piece tried on.

“Hey,” Miles says, walking up next to me and resting his hand on my lower back again. Warning sirens go off in my brain, but I can’t break away from his touch. Who knew that something like this could make my legs all gooey?

The only touching with Clay or Cameron was the obligatory hug and then the making out. But after the cheek kiss earlier, I’m beginning to think they had no idea what they were doing. Because Miles blows all of that out of the water and our lips haven’t even touched yet. Er, well, if they do because of rule three. Or was it two? My brain is fuzzy with him standing so close.

We’re standing next to the register and Miles says, “Did you survive?”

I’m like a statue and Sonia smiles and nods. “She did great. Carl says he’ll get your suits ready within the week, Mr. Clark, and I’ll have them delivered to your loft. Dani, we’ll work on tailoring a couple pairs of pants,” she says, looking down at a notebook she’d written in throughout the day. “The silver formal gown will be ready by tomorrow, and the other three will be done before any further events.”

“Awesome. I can’t wait to see you in them,” Miles says.

In a weird way, I’m kind of happy he didn’t see the dresses I chose.

I know, I know. This is a fake relationship. I shouldn’t care what his expression is like when he sees me for the first time. But I also didn’t get that many chances for a first look. Clay had only taken me to prom our senior year after I begged to go to a dance ever since we began dating. Even when I came down our small staircase, he’d been too engrossed in a baseball game Landon had been watching to turn around and look at me.

Those red flags just keep lining up, in hindsight. That is number one hundred and five.

My breathing picks up and I might start hyperventilating. “Thank you, Sonia. I’m going to walk outside for a moment,” I say to Miles. He nods, looking concerned.

“Are we good to go, Sonia?” I hear him say behind me.

“Yes, thank you, sir.”

“Again, Sonia. You can just call me Miles.”

It isn’t too long before he’s next to me, holding several smaller bags that I’d forgotten to take when my freak out started.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Miles asks. I can see him dip his head down to look at me, but I don’t make eye contact.

“Do you think this will work? I mean, I’ve never been fitted for anything, let alone this much clothing. You’ve got to let me pay you back for this.” I’d have to take out another job, or donate an insane amount of plasma, but it would be worth it for some of the clothing that had been piled up for me.

Miles chuckles next to me. “You’re not going to pay me back. I can afford it, and I want to do it. You deserve it.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I deserve it? Miles, you hardly know me.”

He shrugs. “I’ve learned a lot about you in a short time, which is saying something. So enjoy it. And let’s do something.”

My stomach rumbles. “How about we cash in on that promise of pretzels and cheese?”

He laughs and nods. “I think we can handle that.”

One step at a time, Dani.

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