Page 43 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
“I surely do,” I laugh wholeheartedly. Knowing Vivian is probably at my penthouse waiting for me, I have the urge to leave the event and go home already.
I’m going to do just that when I see a tall, skinny woman walking toward us, and I cringe inwardly.
Trisha is as glamorous as usual. Over the years, her dresses have become more revealing and shining as if to compensate for the lack of youth. She’s wearing a long silver satin dress of her own brand. It has many slits—one in the front from neck down to the belly button, and one on each side of her legs and runs up to her hip.
“Wow,” John murmurs. “She’s dressed to kill.”
Exactly. And I hope I’m not her target, especially when many pairs of eyes follow her.
She’s aware of the fact but acts as if she isn’t. Years ago, when I didn’t know better, I was proud that I had what every man wanted: a woman who was on fashion magazine covers, TV commercials, and Time Square billboards. I mistook vanity with love, and I nearly married an empty shell of a female body.
I discovered later how conniving she was besides being self-centered. She wanted men’s attention and wasn’t satisfied with just one man. While dating me, she never refused to go out with other men, and she used business as an excuse. Even at public events, her eyes would glance around for potential prey.
The strange thing was I never felt jealous, although I was annoyed. I guess I was never serious about her either. For two years after we broke up, we sometimes meet and go out just to keep in contact. But lately, Trisha seems to be incredibly attentive to me, maybe because of my fake engagement with Vivian.
After Trisha and John exchange pleasantries, her attention turns to me. “This place would be a great wedding venue, don’t you think?”
Damn. I curse silently. Although Trisha doesn’t know Vivian is John’s daughter, speaking about our wedding will surely spill the beans. “I guess so,” I say as indifferently as possible, hoping she won’t dwell on the topic.
“Do you know Alex is engaged to …”
“Trisha!” I give her a threatening look. “Remember what I told you the other day?”
She blinks for a moment and smiles. “Of course. Sorry!”
John glances at us, looking amused. “Are you keeping a secret from me, Alex?”
I know he’s teasing me because he knows about my fake engagement, except for the part Vivian is involved. “Yes and no, and I’ll tell you about it soon.”
I then grab Trisha’s arm and pull her away just in case she starts talking about Vivian again. “Excuse me, John. We’ve got to go, and I’ll call you later.”
Just then, Lisa returns with her baby.
“How adorable!” Trisha squeals and breaks free of my grasp. Shen then bends down to admire the baby, surprising me with her interest.
As the two women chat, John says, “So, Vivian told me you took her to the fabric show the other day?”
I let out a dry cough, hoping Trisha misses the words. But the shrew woman glances up right away and frowns.
Fuck. “Yes,” I say to John. “Just thought I would teach her a bit about sourcing.”
“Well, I’ve done that a lot. I confess I wasn’t a great dad. I took her to work over the weekends instead of taking her to parks.”
Trisha’s eyes glint as she undoubtedly put two and two together.
“Where’re you taking me to?” Trisha asks on our way to my Porsche. I left the Audi to Mark in case Vivian needed to go out.
“The Lake House,” I say as I take out my cell phone to text Vivian, telling her I’ll be late. Damn. It’s our first dinner date, and I hate to make her wait.
“What made you change your mind?” Trisha asks while I’m texting.
I don’t answer her until we’re inside my car. “You’ve figured it out already, so there is no need to keep lying to you. John doesn’t know about my engagement to his daughter.”
“Why are you keeping it from him?”
I sigh. I’ve been thinking whether I should tell her the truth on our way to my car, but decided against it. “Because he might not like it, and I haven’t found the good time to tell him.”
Trisha always has a way to conceal her feelings, and at the moment, it’s even harder to read her mind. Her lips curl up, but it doesn’t look like a smile and more like scorn.
