Page 8 of The Wedding Hoax

“Didn’t your family start this magazine years ago and basically give you your job?” I replied. “I mean, aren’t they super influential or something?”

“Yes and yes.”

“That’s why I’m confused, then. That seems like the kind of thing to be thankful for,” I said. “I’m sure a lot of people would love to have a leg up like that. It makes everything so much easier.”

“Easy to say when you’re standing outside of it all.”

Easy to say when you were born rich, prick.

I briefly thought about my own family, my dad’s funeral flashing through my mind. I took another sip of my drink, pushing away the memory.

“Your turn.” He smirked. “What’s your family like?”

“They’re fine.”

“Really? That’s all? After I just spilled my guts?”

“It’s just me and my mom.” I shrugged. “There’s not much to say.”

“Fine, then. Change of topic. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

“Uh, pulled an all-nighter back in college. Ordered like twenty pizzas to the dorms. Caused complete chaos. Oh, and sometimes I’d sneak some vodka in a water bottle before going to class.”

“Are you serious?” Harry slowly blinked. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“What’s wrong? Not crazy enough for you?”

He leaned toward me with a wicked grin. “I’m just surprised. A woman who looks like you… I just figured you’d be getting into all kinds of trouble.”

His eyes stayed on me as he spoke, heat momentarily flashing in his gaze. My face started to burn in response, as I felt my cheeks flush a deep red. He was so close to me now that all he had to do was lean over a few more inches for our lips to touch, for us to be skin to skin.

God, I wanted him to lean over a few more inches.

It didn’t help that he smelled like heaven—woodsy, clean, and expensive. The kind of man who went skiing in his free time and stayed in the most luxurious cabins.

Just then, he shifted back into place, moving away from me. “I think I’m starting to figure you out, Simone.”

“Figure me out?”

“Yep. You’re a Goody Two-Shoes.” He chuckled. “That’s why you’re so self-righteous, right? You spend so much time following the rules, you think everyone else should, too.”

“Are we still on this?” I chuckled, too, in disbelief. “I thought you apologized when you bought me a drink!”

“I never agreed to those terms.”

“You’re right. I should’ve read the fine print.”

“You’ve always got to read the fine print, Simone. Always.” He flashed a smile before downing the rest of his whiskey.

And I couldn’t help the way my eyes lingered on his lips, wondering how they’d taste if I closed the gap between us at the bar.

* * *

“Mom! Did you want red sauce or white?”

Two hours later, I was in the kitchen at home, prepping a quick dinner of pasta. Taylor had taken mercy on me after an hour or so at the bar and thankfully dropped me off at the apartment I shared with my mother.

“I think red sauce sounds good for tonight,” my mom replied, her motorized wheelchair buzzing its way into the kitchen, too. “But what are you in the mood for?”

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