"I’m not ready for this." I dab on the lipstick, then glance at my reflection in the bedroom mirror. At least, I don’t have to worry about my hair. That’s about the only thing I’m happy about, all things considered. Oh, also, the Jimmy Choo's on my feet. He insisted on purchasing a whole new wardrobe for me, which I, of course, refused. Still, when he had so many pairs of my favorite shoes—and in my size—delivered to me, I wasn’t able to turn them down. I’m determined to maintain my independence in this arrangement, but not even I can say no to couture shoes.
I opted for a simple blue dress that nips in at my waist and flows in an A-line to below my knees. The color of the sapphire on my ring finger matches the color of my dress. I purchased this dress a few months ago and haven’t had a chance to wear it. I thought it was perfect for this occasion, but now I’m not too sure.
Earlier today, I managed to slip away long enough to see Karma West Sovrano for a fitting. She’s the hottest name in designing bridal wear and she agreed to come up with a dress for me and for my bridesmaids, who will be meeting with her separately. I’ve known Karma since she was a teenager and we all saw her as Summer’s little sister. It’s hard to believe how much things have changed.
Still, I truly appreciate her willingness to take me on, given how last-minute everything is. When I pointed that out to her, she brushed it aside. Apparently, she would have been more shocked if I’d told her I had months for her to design my dress. She said she’s become so accustomed to working with insane deadlines, she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if she had more time. It wasn’t until I stood in her atelier and her team member took my measurements that the reality of my situation began to dawn on me.
I’m getting married to a man I barely know. He might insist it’s a fake wedding, but it feels all-too-real to me. Which, given this relationship has a sell-by date, does not bode well for me. Which is why I need to protect myself from feeling anything for him.
"You’re the picture of understated elegance," my friend, Summer Sterling, murmurs from where she’s sprawled on my bed.
"You mean I look boring."
"That’s not what I meant." She laughs.
"You implied it." I frown at my reflection. "When I bought this, I thought it’d be perfect to wear to client meetings. But I’m not sure it’s enough to wear when we announce this on social media." My breath catches. "Oh god, did I just say make an announcement on social media?" I shake my head. "I can’t do this. I can’t." My heart flutters in my chest like a dragonfly trapped in a jar. My throat hurts, and I squeeze my hands together to stop them from trembling.
"You can." Summer rises to her feet and walks over to me. She’s dressed, as always, in a flowing skirt and peasant blouse. Her boho chic outfit hints at the bump she’s sporting around her middle. "If I can get pregnant—which I never thought I would do so soon—you can face the social media audience."
"I… I can’t." My palms dampen. I begin to rub them on my dress then stop. "I can’t do this."
"Rubbish, of course you can." A new voice sounds from the direction of the doorway.
I turn to find Zara Chopra propping a hand on her hip. As usual, she’s dressed in a pantsuit and high heeled pumps. Her hair is blow-dried, every strand in place. Her makeup flawless. She looks like a million bucks, or like a hotshot lawyer who’s capable of running a Fortune 500 company. Or a country, which she’s going to make a bid for very soon.
"Hey, Z, you came."
"Of course I came," Zara scoffs. "It’s not every day I have a message from one of my best friends saying she’s about to marry the most eligible bachelor in London."
"I thought that was Hunter Whittington?"
Zara seems taken aback, then she tosses her hair over her shoulder. "That stuck-up-twatwaffle? Not likely. I prefer my men to be more salt-of-the-earth."
"Thought you wanted to lick the salt off his skin," I mumble, then cough.
Zara blinks, then cackles out a laugh. "Oh, good one, girlfriend. You should be talking. Have you seen the picture of you and Liam getting out of his car yesterday?"
"Wait, there’s a picture of us?"
"Of course there’s a picture of the two of you. It’s all anyone can talk about on social media." She pulls her phone from herBirkinand swipes her fingers across the screen. Then walks over and holds it out to me.
I study the blurry video shot from a distance. It’s still unmistakably me getting out of his Jag. Liam holds out his hand, I hesitate, then take it. He pulls me up to my feet, and for a second, I’m toe-to-toe with him. I tip up my chin. Even with the shitty resolution, the look on my face is indisputable. Longing, lust, and something else… A vulnerability I try so hard to keep the world from seeing.And it’s right there, for everyone to see.Liam lowers his head, when the screen shakes. We hear the sound of someone yelling—probably Liam’s security—then the screen goes dark.
"Oooh," Summer says and fans herself. "That’s some chemistry, lady. You’ve been holding out on me. So, that’s why you agreed to marry him?"
Zara turns to her. "You must be Summer. I’ve heard so much about you from Isla."
"Wait, you guys have never met?" I glance between them. "I can’t believe that. Zara, Summer is one of my best friends. We’ve known each other since university. And Summer, Zara and I met on a work gig, and we’ve been friends ever since. I’m so happy both of you are here today."
"Of course silly." Summer rolls her eyes. "Where else would I be when you’re about to announce your engagement to the world?
I feel the color drain from my face. "Don’t remind me."
"Aw, sweetie, you don’t have to be nervous. You’re going to be great." Summer squeezes my arm, then turns to Zara. "It’s good to meet you, Z. I can call you Z, right?" Summer throws her arms around Zara and hugs her. "I feel like I know you already."
Zara stiffens. She snaps her gaze to me with a look that screams,is she always this friendly?
I chuckle and nod my head. That’s Summer for you. Bubbly, happy, friendly, and always so good at putting everyone at ease. She’s a born hostess, that one, and marrying Sinclair Sterling, one of the most powerful men on the continent, has only helped bring her into her own. It’s like she’s finally found herself. Guess that’s what falling in love and finding where you belong does to you. You come into your own self.