We are meeting Rhett’s friends, and I am so nervous I feel sick. I don’t know how I am supposed to eat, feeling the way I do, but I am hoping my nerves will settle down a bit when I get inside. Rhett has told me they are nice and welcoming, but they are his friends, so he’s going to say that. I remind myself of how nice Maria was. Hopefully, they are all like her.
Rhett holds open the door for me, and I slide past him, close enough to almost touch. I catch the faint hint of his cologne, the now familiar scent that I’ve kind of fallen in love with. The restaurant is filled with the hum of conversation and laughter. Rhett’s group is already gathered in a corner, tables pulled into a semi-circle, making it easy for everyone to see each other.
Maria, practically glowing in a silver top, spots us and waves, holding a flute of champagne like she was born doing that.
“Rhett. Pippa Over here,” she calls.
I am so glad to see her familiar face, I could cry. I wave, and we start to make our way over to the table, but first, Rhett stops in front of a couple. I recognize the man as Elliot, and the woman must be Camile, the bride.
“Elliot, Camile, this is Pippa,” Rhett says. “Pippa, this is Elliot and Camile.”
We exchange hellos, and Maria scoots along to make room for us. I sit down and Rhett slides in beside me, his hand brushing mine briefly. I can feel that familiar spark, the one that’s been growing all week, threading through our glances, our little touches. I smile at him, and he smiles back, but his eyes are veiled, making it impossible for me to know what he is thinking.
A man approaches us. He looks effortlessly cool and tanned and Rhett stands up.
“Pippa, this is Max,” he says.
“Hey, Pippa, good to meet you,” Max says. “I’m Rhett’s best friend, so I already feel your pain at spending so much time with this guy.”
I laugh as Rhett shakes his head. Max is tall, with an easy, charming grin and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. I feel an instant sense of ease with him, like we’re already aligned in some unspoken way. Maybe it’s because in many respects, he seems quite similar to Rhett.
“Hi, Max,” I say, as he slides into a seat opposite us. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh, you’re British,” he says. “Best accent ever.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I don’t know about that.”
“It’s well hot,” Max says.
“Umm, maybe get your own date, Max,” Rhett says. He’s laughing, but his hand has landed protectively on my knee. I should probably object to it, but it feels nice, and this is the kind of thing I signed up for.
I glance around the table, and Rhett introduces me to more people. Their names blur in my mind. I’m waiting for the real fireworks to start. Drinks are poured into our glasses. And then it’s showtime.
“Vanessa just walked in,” Rhett says quietly.
I catch her out of the corner of my eye as she comes over and perches on the edge of the group.
“Vanessa, have you met Pippa?” Maria says, nodding in my direction.
Vanessa shakes her head, and then she scans me with a look that could cut glass. She could definitely teach a masterclass in body checking. Something tells me she is old money, and maybe, she is a bit style-over-substance. And she is also exactly how I imagined a spoiled heiress would look. All perfectly coiffed hair, manicured nails, and designer outfit, but there’s also something about her that reeks of entitlement and judgment. She sizes me up like I’m an irritating hindrance she needs to demolish with one glance.
I can’t help the sudden thrill that runs through me. I was going to play my role, show her that Rhett has moved on simply because that was the price for him pretending to be my boyfriend to make George jealous, but now, it’s just become personal. If she wants to play, then let’s play.
Challenge accepted.
From the moment she sits down, I make sure to lean slightly into Rhett, laugh at his jokes, and touch his arm lightly in reaction to anything he says. Every look, every laugh, is exaggerated just enough to make it clear that he’s mine and he is well and truly off the market. Rhett plays along, lapping up all of the attention I am lavishing on him.
I catch Vanessa’s sharp intake of breath, the barely restrained eye roll, and I feel a delicious surge of satisfaction.
Rhett leans in to whisper in my ear. “Well done, Pippa. You’re putting on a truly Oscar-worthy performance.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here?” I murmur, smiling seductively up at him. “I hate to disappoint.”
His eyes send a thrill down my spine. “I’m not disappointed. Not even close.”
“Come on, let’s hear it. How did you guys meet?” someone called Harrison asks.
I glance at Rhett. He’s grinning like a cat that found a whole jar of cream. The truth of how we met – me, dressed as Jessica Rabbit, asking Rhett out for a forfeit. It feels like a lifetime ago, but it’s still mortifying enough that I decide not to tell that story right now.
