My mouth went dry and I tried to swallow so I could say something and rescue the situation. Anyone who’d known me for longer than twenty-four hours knew I hated shellfish.
“Why would you take Stella to somewhere they served great oysters?” Karen asked, her smile much more genuine now. She’d caught us out.
Karen’s eyes were fixed on me even though she’d asked the question of Beck. She wanted to gloat.
Who was this woman? This girl I’d shared secrets with, dreams, fears—I had a huge history with her. Yet, she’d betrayed me as if I were nothing to her. Like my life, my happiness was meaningless to her.
I took a breath. There was no point in trying to deal with her with honesty and openness. She didn’t respond to those things. Perhaps lies were the only thing she understood. “Beck’s messing around,” I said, pulling back my shoulders, ready for a fight. “He knows I hate shellfish.”
Beck chuckled next to me. “I keep hoping I can change her mind. It really is the worst thing about you, Stella.”
Karen tilted her head to one side. “It’s weird. You didn’t seem like you were kidding.”
“I guess you don’t know me very well.” Beck shrugged. He was good. But I doubted he was good enough to throw Karen off the scent.
Karen was like a sniffer dog and there was no way she was that easily placated.
We needed to be more prepared. Karen would now be looking for other things that didn’t add up between me and Beck. And the only thing more humiliating than your boyfriend running off with your best friend was being found out to be bringing a fake boyfriend to the wedding.
There was no way we were going to pull this charade off for a week in Scotland unless we were a thousand times more prepared.
Ten
Beck
Most people hate going into the office on Sundays, but I wasn’t most people. I wandered through the empty desks of Wilde Developments and headed to my office at the back of the building.
I loved weekend working. The phones were quiet, and I didn’t have a constant stream of people trailing into my office asking for opinions or signatures. I could get things done. And now that I was weeks away from g
etting Henry to sign over the Mayfair property, there was plenty to do. I had to work on the tender document for the architects, go through the blueprints that Joshua had managed to get me of Henry’s building, which were much more comprehensive than the plans I’d had previously, and finally, I needed to figure out what I was going to do about the designer. I’d said yes to Stella, given her the benefit of the doubt, but seeing her flat last night brought my concerns back. Nothing about it had screamed luxury, high-end, or cutting-edge design.
I closed my office door as my mobile began to ring.
“Stella,” I said. “I was just thinking about you.”
Silence and then, “There’s no way I can go to that wedding with you. This was a ridiculous idea.”
Frustration twisted around my gut. There was no way I was going to let her change her mind. There was too much at stake. “What are you talking about?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. I wanted to shout at her but knew it would be counterproductive.
“I just got off the phone with Florence. Karen called her, asked loads of questions about you and me, said something didn’t seem right between the two of us—”
This woman might be beautiful but she was totally paranoid. “I’m sure Karen will be focused on her wedding and not us when we’re up in Scotland.”
She sighed as if I just wasn’t getting it. “You don’t know Karen very well. She’s focused on trying to make me look bad.”
I thought these women were friends? I didn’t want to dive down that particular rabbit hole. All I cared about was that Stella was invited to Karen’s wedding. That was all that mattered. “You’re not going to look bad.”
“We were nearly caught out last night. I barely managed to carry off our charade for an evening. I can’t keep it up for a week.”
I threw my keys down on my desk and perched on the edge, facing the city. “Look, it was your idea to pretend that we were together.” It was a stupid idea. Why couldn’t we just go as friends?
“I know. And I totally accept that it was a terrible idea and that I’m an idiot. This isn’t your fault. I’m just saying I can’t do it again. There’s no way I’ll pull it off. Let’s just agree that it’s not going to work, and I’ll cancel—say that I have a hernia operation or something.”
I was going to have to talk her round. She wasn’t backing out on me.
“Why do you even care? Worst-case scenario, people figure out we’re not dating. It’s not the end of the world.” I didn’t know Stella well enough to know how to change her mind, but I was going to have to try. “You laughed in my face when I offered you work for the recruitment agency but when you stormed into my office demanding that I make you designer on the development, you were laser-focused and determined. It’s clearly something you want to do, otherwise you could have just asked me for a check. Are you content to just walk away?” I tried to sound calm and logical, but the realization of a long-time dream hung in the balance. I’d get over losing the money. Probably. But not the opportunity of developing this block in Mayfair—I wasn’t going to let it go.
“Better to walk away than face complete humiliation in front of everyone I know. I refuse to stay at the center of this scandal. I don’t know your birthday or what side of the bed you sleep on. It was insane to think I could carry this off.”