CHAPTER ONE
CHARLOTTE
I’ve barely been kissed, yet here I am, swathed in silk and lace, about to walk down the aisle as the stand-in bride at my twin sister’s wedding.
I look at my sketchbook, open, sketch half-done after Eloise got the call for an interview for her dream job. The only problem—it’s today.
So I did what any good twin sister would do and offered to stand in for her.
But now that I’m in her corset style dress and struggling to breathe, I’m having second thoughts. “How is this going to work? This dress clearly wasn’t designed for the twin that steals the last cookie.”
Eloise rolls her eyes. “Charlotte, we are the same size. You just don’t like to flaunt what you’ve got.”
She pointedly stares at my bust, which is practically spilling out of the dress.
My skin burns so bright I won’t need blush.
“I should be the one complaining.” Eloise pulls a face and plucks at my vintage style skirt. “It’s so heavy and scratchy.”
“At least you can breathe.”
Eloise drops the skirt with a dramatic sigh, picks up her lipstick, and paints my lips. “Slow, shallow breaths and you’ll be fine.”
Eloise turns me to face the mirror in the church dressing room. I’m shocked by the image. I look like Eloise with my lips this red. I’ve never worn a shade this bold. I’ve never tried to be an extrovert like Eloise. I’m shy, introverted, looking for the corner of a room to hide and sketch. How am I supposed to pull this off? “He’s going to know.”
“We’re twins. We’ve never met the groom. How will he know?”
I touch the small scar below my left ear. A consequence of my eight-year-old brain thinking training wheels meant it was possible to read and ride at the same time.
Eloise waves my hand away and twists a curl down around my ear, covering it. “It’s barely noticeable.”
She’s right, but it’s just one of the many differences between us. We may look alike, but where I prefer the quiet solitude of my sketchbook or a novel, Eloise’s exuberant personality makes her a social media celebrity millions of followers want to know.
And anonymous billionaires want to marry.
Anger makes my skin flush even hotter. “Who does this guy think he is?”
Eloise sighs as she picks up her bag. “The only one to take a chance on Dad.”
“Dad made a mistake. He’s probably some dirty old man who’s on his fifth marriage and wants to buy some hot, young social media starlet he’d never be able to get without money.”
That must be why he kept his identity a secret.
Eloise is a glamorous, sought-after social media influencer— unattainable for most men. But this guy is a cunning snake who preyed on a man still consumed by grief over his wife’s death andwilling to do whatever it takes to hold on to the business they built together, even selling his daughter into marriage.
“He should just sell the business.”
“He thinks he’s saving out legacy.”
What legacy? This fancy hotel chain he’s trying to maintain is nothing like the warm and welcoming bed-and-breakfast our mother once created. Gardens filled with our mother’s laughter as she taught guests to paint and walls decorated with her artwork were replaced by cement parking lots and department-store poster prints.
Memories of our mother flood my mind as I stand in this wedding dress. I miss her even more now that we don’t have the bed-and-breakfast that held so much of her spirit.
Eloise squeezes my arms, then drops her head onto my shoulder and smiles at my reflection. “You don’t need to get upset for me. I agreed to it, remember. It’s only one year. Then I can have a spectacular divorce worthy of trending on every social media platform.”
The reality of the situation hits me. “Oh God, are you going to have tosleepwith him?”
Eloise laughs as she loops her bag over her shoulder. “Sex wouldn’t sound so scary if you weren’t determined to spend your entire life as a virgin.”
