Page 3 of The Fake Wedding Date

“I know, Em. I don’t feel alone,” I assured her, squeezing her hand. “I promise.”

She squeezed back, and we stood like that, holding hands and looking out the window.

From the bridal suite of Jamie’s Lodge, we could see endless snow-filled cliffs and puffy white clouds sprinkled in bright blue skies. This was the place Ben and Emory had reconnected, and it was the only place they wanted to get married. It was a beautiful ski lodge and would be a gorgeous wedding day.

I stepped back, grabbing my purse. “Mark isn’t answering his messages. I’m going to try and call him, see if he knows where the tiara is. Maybe check our room to see if I left it there.”

“Sharing a room with Mark makes more sense now,” she said, very tongue in cheek.

My god, what kind of mess have I gotten myself into?

I grinned at her.

Honestly, the hotel had been sold out by the time Mark insisted on joining me, so he’d slept on the couch in my room the night before. It actually hadn’t been as awkward as I had expected it to be, and we got a lot of work done.

I hugged Emory, told her I’d be right back, then ran to find my assistant.

To tell him we were sleeping together.

Fuck my life.

CHAPTER1

Trapped in the spotlight, I tightened my grip around the cold metal handle of the microphone and forced a practiced smile. Looking around the room, I took in all the curious glances of the wedding guests and even after ten years, the judgmental glances.

I was no stranger to speeches as an advertising executive at C&C Enterprises in Philadelphia and had done hundreds throughout my career. People were bound to look at you if you stood in the middle of a dance floor and gave a speech. That was to be expected and would have been easy for me to handle. Knowing—telling—glances exchanged between guests wasn’t. It was a silent form of gossip I knew so well from my youth, and yet it still felt daunting.

Good ol’ Coal’s Lake.I’m so glad to be home.

That's why I preferred to be alone in a big city. No stares. No gossip. No pranks. Peace. You’re one person amongst many. Easy to blend in unless you want to stand out.

Taking a breath, I brought the microphone back to my lips and continued my Maid of Honor speech.

Don't let them affect you. They can’t hurt you anymore.

“Em, I am so incredibly proud of the woman you’ve become and am awed by your endless courage. You created a business out of nothing and grew it into something amazing. You set your sights on Ben and jumped in, head first, loving him with your entire being, regardless of the risk of being hurt.” The bridge of my nose burned with tears. “A selfish part of me is sad that my little sister, my very best friend, doesn’t need me as much anymore. But I just need to watch the two of you together to know you’re meant to be. A relationship truly withstanding the test of time.”

I looked up, tapping a fingertip to the corner of my eye, being mindful of my makeup, catching a tear that threatened to fall.

“I have loved watching the two of you grow into the amazing people you are today. I look forward to seeing you prosper even more as man and wife. You were made for each other. Polar opposites that seem to complete the other.”

I scanned the guests for Mark—mypolar opposite. Clean where I was a complete mess. Passionate, outgoing, and friendly, while I was more reserved. His smiles were always so warm. I settled on polite since my warm smiles came off Pan Am and fake.

My eyes found his instantly, even though he hadn’t taken his seat. He leaned his hip against the wooden bar across the way, grasping a tumbler between two strong fingers. To anyone else, he may have appeared casual, a confident, handsome, relaxed man. But I had known Mark for over six years, and that was nothisrelaxed and definitely was not hiscasual.

His posture, usually loose and approachable, seemed still and tight. He looked so tall and formidable in his dark suit, towering over everyone else at the bar.

Normally, at events, he networked and effortlessly worked the crowd, easily making friends. At that moment, he was acknowledging no one, even while men and women alike were eyeing him with varying degrees of appreciation. Some of the women looked downright hungry for him, but his dark eyes were intent on me.

Since agreeing to be my fake date to Emory’s wedding earlier that morning, he’d been looking at me in a way he’d never looked at me before, and it was unnerving.

In the past, our roles had been defined. I was his boss first and his friend second. He would network, effortlessly charming potential clients. I would close deals. For this, Mark was taking his fake dating game to the extreme. His attention was solely on me, and his gaze was heated and possessive. It flustered me.

I looked away, sipping my champagne, knowing I would need stronger stuff to get through this.

”You know what it feels like to have lost each other. Hold on tight. Love each other right.”

My eyes went back to Mark without intention, drawn to him. He brought the tumbler to his lips, holding my eyes as he sipped from the amber liquid. I licked mine in response, and his eyes seemed to darken.

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