Page 4 of Dating Your Fake Fiance
She glances up and me and forces a smile on her face. “Can I talk to you a moment alone—babe?”
“Sure.”
She turns to Buffy. "The sample book is on the counter, if you'd like to look over the items you can order for the event."
I let Dana lead me back into the kitchen. She doesn’t say anything until the swinging door shuts behind us.
“What the hell were you thinking telling her that?”
I shrug, liking the way her nose crinkles when she’s mad. “I didn’t like the way she was talking to you. And I’m sorry if I overstepped, but if going to your high school reunion with you will help put her in her place, I’d happily be your fake fiancé.”
“You’re serious?” She stares at me in disbelief. “You would actually go to my high school reunion with a complete stranger?”
“I wouldn’t say you are a complete stranger.”
“You know what I mean.”
“For you—I would,” I say, only just stopping myself from finishing that sentence instead with “I’d do anything.”
Dana just stares at me and shakes her head slightly. "Normally, I'd make up some excuse not to go, but the teenage girl in me would love to shove it in their face when they see me walk in with you.”
I take a step toward her, but she counters by taking one nervous step back. But she can’t move too far away from me because she hits the counter behind her.
“Dana?”
She swallows hard. “Yeah?”
“I'm not going to half-ass this," I say, closing the space between us. "If we are going to do this. You will bemineSaturday. Are you okay with that?”
She nods. “I think I can handle that.”
“You don’t sound sure. I need you to be sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Say it.”
“I will be yours.”
3
DANA
Saturday night, both doesn't come quick enough and rolls around too quickly—if that is even possible. On the one hand, my secret crush on Charlie has been heavy on my mind since the moment I met him. I never expected him to ever look at me the way he did in my kitchen. And the thought of getting to pretend that gorgeous tall drink of water is my fiancé in front of the mean girl that made high school miserable for me is too appealing. On the other hand, I’m so nervous I’ve already sweat through my deodorant.
Standing in front of the oscillating fan in my bedroom with my arms held out to my sides, I have only twenty minutes to finish getting ready before Charlie said he would be picking me up. My two dress options are hanging face out in my closet, and I can't decide which one to wear. There's the classic black dress that is slimming on me, but I feel like I'm going to a funeral. Then there's the fun and flowy pink knee-length dress with a thick black belt that can help cinch me in.
A part of me knows that the black dress is the more sensible option, but at this moment, I just want to say fuck sensible. Tonight I’m already playing a different version of myself with a fake fiancé. Why not go all the way and lock my insecurities in the closet and be the confident bitch I know I can be deep down in my pink dress.
My phone buzzes on my bed, and I sit down to read it.
CHARLIE: On my way. I can't wait to show you off.
Pink dress it is!
Slipping on my dress, I do one last check of my hair and makeup before the doorbell rings. I grab my clutch and open the door.
“You look amazing,” Charlie says as his gaze moves up and down my body. And from the expression on his face, it's the first time in my life I don't feel like there is any judgment behind it.
