Page 107 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
Where does she get off saying something like that to me?
Maybe months ago—when the hurt was still raw—hearing that might've been gratifying. Maybe.
Now? I feel nothing. Maybe a little irritation. Maybe even disgust.
I don't want her. Not in any way, and as much as George is being a little fuck-up right now, I have no interest in hurting him back. He's in love with her. I can see it. If he ever found out what she just said to me, it would destroy him.
And then there's the baby. God. This is already a mess—and it's about to get worse.
Turns out Marina's visit isn't the last surprise of the day.
My father shows up at my office just before closing, looking like a storm front about to break.
He slams the door behind him. "What the fuck is wrong with you, son?"
I smile lazily. "Depends who you ask, Pops."
"This is no time for jokes." His voice is like thunder. "Have you lost your damn mind? Haigel has a trillion-dollar portfolio. Are you trying to lose his business?"
"Don't be so dramatic. He's not going anywhere. He knows what he said was out of line. He was drunk, and he trash-talked my fiancée. He had to expect some kind of reaction."
"Are you actually marrying this girl, Grayson?"
"Of course. Why else would I introduce her to you?"
He stares at me hard. "Truly? Because I thought this was a joke. Or a ploy to get your mother off your back by picking the most unsuitable woman you could find. Then I thought maybe you were doing it because you heard George and Marina were back in New York and you wanted to make her jealous."
Ah. So close, yet so far.
"That's not it at all," I say. "If I really wanted to get Mom off my back, I'd have picked someone she'd actually approve of. But I don't care if she likes Jenna or not. I'm in love with her, and I'll go against anyone who goes against her. No matter who it is—Father. Believe me when I say this…"
I meet his gaze, my voice low, deliberate.
"I don't make a good enemy."
CHAPTER 31
Jenna
"Jenna? Jenna."
The sound of my name jolts me out of my thoughts. I blink at Ashley, who's sitting across from me with a wry look on her face.
I sigh. "Did it again, didn't I?"
She nods. "Yup. You've been seriously blanking out on me. Like your body's here in the restaurant, but your brain's about a million miles away. What's going on?"
I shake my head, as if realizing for the first time that I'm even in a restaurant—with my best friend, surrounded by chatter and the clatter of dishes. I try to push through the fog clouding my mind. "Nothing."
She rolls her eyes and gives me a look that says she's not buying a word of it.
"Seriously, Jenna?"
"It's nothing. I just have a lot on my mind."
"I'll say. Come on—lay it on me."
God, how I wish I could. But how do I even begin to tell her that I might be pregnant… with my fake fiancé's baby? It's too ridiculous. Too humiliating.
