“Enough threats for now. Let’s get into why you’re here today.”
Melanie leads us to a circular table set up with an explosion of colors. Red, purple, pink—roses, lilies, tulips—there isn’t a shade or type of flower missing. The surface is overflowing with bouquets in pretty vases, obscuring the white tablecloth below.
“The foundation of any good relationship,real or fake,is based on common ground. Without it, this charade will fallapart. Today’s purpose is to get you tothink, act,andbehavelike a couple.” She ends her harsh explanation with a beaming smile and an excited wiggle of her fingers toward the flowers. “Now choose.”
I blink twice in Melanie’s direction while Vivienne stares at the table in stupor. My cousin’s face falls flat when she realizes we haven’t caught on.
“You’re supposed to pick one and agree on the bouquet for the engagement party.”
I drag a hand across my face, the rough stubble a reminder of how little time I’ve had for myself. As much as I appreciate the effort and initiative Melanie has poured into organizing all of this, I don’t see how it's supposed to help us.
We have bigger fish to fry, and she knows that.
Things at the company have only gotten worse since the stock market opened this past Monday morning. Shares are dropping. Investors are backing out. People are boycotting flights with our planes. It’s all falling apart in real time. Picking flowers should be the last thing on our minds.
“The red ones.” Vivienne points to the roses. “After all, it’s the color Nate will be drenched in by the time this arrangement is over.”
Melanie’s eyes snap to Vivienne’s, shock rippling through her as her mouth falls open.
I, on the other hand, want to be furious. Angry that my time is being wasted. But that comment lights something within me. This is the perfect opening to blow off steam in what I quickly see becoming my favorite pastime—messing with Vivienne Brown.
“Already trying to murder your fiancé?” I drawl.
“I’ve been plotting since the first day we met.” She shoots me a saccharine smile as she bats her lashes.
“Now, that’s not very kind,” I scold with a devilish smirk. “Luckily for you, I’d also pick the red roses—an ode to that little dress you wore when I first saw you, all dolled up and looking awfully like my future wife.”
Vivienne’s smile fades as quickly as it appeared, her expression turning wildly unimpressed. “Really going at it with the snark today, huh?”
“There’s no snark, only truth. I meant every word I said.” I shoot her a wink, which earns me an elbow to the arm.
The thing is, behind my overly dramatized words lies the truth. Vivienne did look beautiful that night. And in that moment, beneath the glow of the moonlight, I’ve never been drawn to anyone like I have her.
There’s no doubt in my mind that she was flirting back, and if it hadn’t been for her sudden realization that I was the guy who soaked her notebook (in her version of the story), God knows where we’d be.
Would I have asked for her number?
Would I have seen her again?
We’ll never really know.
Judging by the look on Melanie’s face, our hostile dynamic isn’t appreciated. I brace myself for the verbal assault, only to be taken aback when her death glare shifts into wide, adoring eyes.
“Gloria!” My cousin pushes past us.
“Melanie! How lovely to see you!” A middle-aged woman carrying a yoga mat and a stereo rushes over to my cousin. She drops everything to pull her in a tight hug. “Is this the future bride and groom?” Her head turns to us, eyes sparkling in excitement.
“Yes, it is. Don’t they look lovely together?” Melanievisiblyswoons, her hands clasped together as her voice rises in pitch.
I stop the snort just as it’s about to escape.
Forget about public relations—Melanie missed her call in acting.
“You can go ahead and set up on the dance floor. We’ll join you in a few.” Melanie gestures to the area behind her,where restaurant tables have been shifted aside to make space.
“Dance floor?” The shock in Vivienne’s voice is palpable.
“What better way to get to know someone than to dance with them!”
