Page 13 of Contingently Yours
“What, like Buck’s Emporium?” Julia snickers. “He’ll probably sell us Mason jars with cow bells on them.”
Damn. That’s brilliant, actually. I hadn’t even considered Buck’s place. Granted, he sells livestock feed too and the only apparel he stocks is western-themed that no one in our townbuys or wears, but I’m sure we could find some country decor there that won’t make my bank account sweat.
“What’s wrong with Mason jars? You are getting married in a barn, after all.”
“Wow. This is disappointing,” comes an unexpected voice. “I’m gone for two minutes to grab my bag, and he’s already cheating on me with two women.”
I flinch as Andrew leans over my shoulder from behind me, grinning at my baby sisters.Grinningis being kind—it’s more like leering. Turning, I don’t care if my elbow just bashed into his stomach. “They’re my sisters.”
“What?” comes his shocked reply. He angles around me and cups his hand over mine so I can’t jerk my phone away from him. “Ladies…howon Earthdo you two share the same DNA as this silverback?”
What the fuck? Is that a gorilla reference? And why are the girls giggling?
“Half-sisters,” they say in unison.
“Ah…that explains it.”
I shouldn’t be salty about it. The girls have blonde hair and blue eyes like Clark did, God rest his soul. However, this is coming from Andrew; if there’s an opportunity to belittle me, he’ll find it.
“I’ll message you when I get a signal where we’re going. Think about the Mason jar idea.”
I end the call so Andrew can’t further fawn over my siblings or out my compliance with his despicable plan to my family. They don’t need to know I’m impersonating as his boyfriend after a lifetime of trying to instill good morals, like honesty and integrity, in them.
“How old are they?” he asks.
“Way too young for you, and they’re both getting married next month, so don’t waste your time tormenting me with questions about them.”
Scoffing, he readjusts the bag on his shoulder. “Easy killer. That’s not where I was going. I prefer people born in the same decade as me. They just look like babies compared to you.”
“They’re twenty-five. Theyarestill babies.”
“And they’re trusting their grumpy old half-brother to be their wedding planner?”
“Thirty-seven isn’t old,” I grumble, even though my stiff back doesn’t believe it. “And I’m paying for the wedding since their father died when they were little, if you must know. So, it’d be nice if you could drop the harassment long enough for us to make sure we handle these sales professionally. Their happiness depends on it.”
Frowning, he slaps me on the shoulder, but keeps his hand there. “Listen,Sticks. I know math might not be big where you come from, but we will land this sale, and that means you can afford way better than Mason jars for the babies. Okay? Women want Tiffany’s and shit like that.”
Shaking his hand off, I notice the conveyor is running and that he already has his bag. “Having money doesn’t mean you need to waste it on overpriced crap.”
Groaning, he rolls his eyes. “Whatever, just go grab your tighty-whities and emotional-support beard oil so we can hit it. We’ve got to go prep the puddle jumper in about two hours, and I need a snack first.” Shaking the last few crumbs from his snack packet, he adds, “These free nuts aren’t doing it for me.”
Jackass. I don’t doubt that was another dig at me. My nuts aren’t free. They have to be earned.
Ugh. Listen to me. Never in my life did I imagine I’d have a boyfriend, pretend or not. It’s just my luck that the one I get is high-maintenance and bossy as shit.
…
Two hours later, after Andrew has bought enough snacks to fill his backpack, I can feel my lip curl as I watch him eat his weight in local British Virgin Islands cuisine at a café near the dock. At least I have enough phone reception that I was able to call the girls and go over the seating chart to help pass the time after prepping the seaplane. I take another bite of my granola bar and sigh, gazing out at the crystal blue water. It’s one thing I love about this job—the scenery is always breathtaking.
“You’re seriously going to eat a protein bar at a restaurant? Are you one of those people who think they’ll get dysentery if you eat local food or drink the water?” Andrew interrupts my moment of serenity around a mouthful of food, a lack of etiquette I wouldn’t expect from a man who comes from wealth.
“They’re heart-healthy and filling,” I inform him without looking at him.
“When we get to the cay and your stomach starts growling halfway through the showing, tell me how filling they are then.”
A taxi pulls up and stops in front of us, bringing me relief over the end of our forced bonding time. That relief is replaced with anxiety, though. It’s showtime. I jump up when the Hepperlys pile out of the cab. Andrew takes a sip from his beer and waves. Classy. I still don’t understand how he manages to sell so many properties. He’s as charming as a Hawaiian shirt with plaid pants.
Rushing over to the trunk, I help the driver remove their luggage. They all flew in yesterday and spent the night at a hotel on the island. I wish I’d done the same, but I can’t afford that luxury when I’m pinching every penny I can until this sale goes through.
