"What?"
"A dress you wear to tell difficult truths.The kind that makes men forgive anything."
"I don't think haute couture excuses fraud."
"You'd be surprised.Mrs.Henderson forgave her third husband for running a Ponzi scheme because he confessed during their anniversary dinner.She credits the dress."
"That's not?—"
"The dress, Sage.Trust the dress."
My phone buzzes.
Luke.
Car will be there at 6.Can't wait to see you.Also, Daniella says to ignore the last note.Apparently, I'm 'romantically awkward.'Her words.
I smile."He's nervous too."
"Good nervous or bad nervous?"
"Adorkable nervous."
"Then you're perfect for each other."Mira heads for the door."I'll handle the inn.And you?You handle that billionaire D.”
“What?Mira!”
She's gone before I can throw something, leaving me alone with a fortune in flowers and a dress that might have to perform miracles.
I sink onto the bed, careful not to crush the shoebox.
In three hours, I'll be on my way to Seattle.
To Luke.
To the truth.
"I hacked your dating profile," I tell the empty room."Because I was desperate and scared and about to lose everything."
Terrible.
"I manipulated your data because I thought you could save my inn.I didn't expect to fall for you."
Worse.
"I'm a disaster who lies and schemes and talks to goats, but somehow you make me feel worth choosing.Even though I tricked you into choosing me in the first place."
I'm definitely moving to Peru.
My phone rings.Harper.
Dammit.I never should have told my sisters about tonight.
“Forget what I told you about tonight.In fact, abort mission," I answer."I'm fleeing the country."
"No, you're not.Claire and I are outside.We brought wine and emotional support."
"And a curling iron!"Claire adds in the background."Your hair needs help!"
