Rhett’s smile is a mix of amusement and mischief. “They’re just people, Pippa. Sure, there will be society types. And yes, they are wealthy. Connected. And yes, it’s a bit of a different world than the one you’re used to, but, for the most part, they’re good people. Having money doesn’t automatically make you a bad person.”
“I know,” I relent. “I’m sorry. I just … it’s a lot.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I get that. I probably should have prepared you better. But in the interest of full disclosure, you know I work at Remington International, right?”
I nod my head.
“Well, the thing is, I don’t so much work there as I own the company. I’m Rhett Remington,” he says.
The words hit me like a freight train. My jaw drops. Rhett Remington. He’s up there with Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, and the like. How the hell did I end up here as his date, fake or otherwise?
“You’re … a tech billionaire?”
He gives one nod of his head, and then he just watches me, amused, letting the reality settle in. I can’t breathe. The ocean, the sun, the mansion, his casual pose, it all feels suddenly suffocating. My stomach twists into knots. I step back, my brain spinning.
“I … I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” My hands fidget with the straps of my handbag, my thoughts already spiraling out of control as I think of the dress I packed for the wedding. “The dress I brought for the wedding… I have a Zara dress, Rhett. It’s … it’s fine for normal weddings, but here? Everyone’s going to be in designer gowns, couture, and jewelry that costs more than my rent for a year. I might as well be dressed in a bin bag. I need to go home. Can you call me a cab to the airport? I …”
Rhett steps closer to me, his voice calm, grounding. “Pippa. Relax. It’s ok. Give me two minutes … and trust me.”
I gape at him. “Two minutes?”
He nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Two minutes. Then you follow me.”
I open my mouth to interrupt, but he keeps going. “If by the end of the day you still want to leave, I will arrange everything for you, ok?”
I find myself nodding, his tone soothing enough that I calm down a little bit. I don’t know what he thinks he can do to make me feel ok about my pauper clothes, but I’m here now, I can give him a chance.
Rhett heads towards the mansion with my suitcase in one hand and his cell phone in the other. I sink onto the low stone wall by the driveway, trying to slow my racing heart. What am I doing? This isn’t me. I’m Zara, Topshop, H&M. This world, it’s not designed for me. And yet, he looks at me like I belong in it with him, like this is exactly where I should be.
A few minutes later, Rhett returns, unruffled, looking like he’s just finished sipping a cold drink in some Mediterranean villa. He gestures toward the car.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I ask nervously.
“You’ll see,” he replies coolly.
I know it’s not the airport, because he has come back without my suitcase. That’s literally all I know, though. Maybe he’s going to show me Times Square before I leave.
I follow him reluctantly, feeling very much like a fish out of water in this world of pristine lawns, sparkling pools, and sunbaked terraces. He drives with the windows down, and the warm, salty Atlantic breeze tugs at my hair, and the sound of waves crashing from somewhere in the distance fills my ears.
“I’m taking you to East Hampton,” he says casually. “My friend’s girlfriend is going to take you shopping. She’s fabulous, and she will know exactly what you’ll need.”
I glance at him, my brow furrows. “Shopping?”
He smiles, holding out a sleek black card. “Yes. Use my credit card. Go nuts. Get something for the wedding and anything else you want.”
I stare at it in astonishment. “Rhett, I can’t take this. I …”
“It’s part of the wedding expenses,” he interrupts smoothly. “Just think. How can you convincingly play the part of my girlfriend in a Zara dress?”
I try to bite back a protest, but how can I when he is making complete sense? I feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I continue to argue the point. “But I can’t … I …”
“You can,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “And you will. Tech billionaire, remember? I won’t miss it.”
The road curves, and soon we pull into the driveway of a stunning property, smaller than his mansion but still marvelous with duck egg blue walls, glass accents, and tropical landscaping.
He steps out of the car, and I follow suit. He leads me toward the entrance to the house, and I feel the weight of the card in my hand, like a key to a world I’ve only glimpsed in glossy magazines and Instagram feeds. My heart beats erratically, a mixture of fear, excitement, and an undeniable thrill all tangled together.
