My insides are heavy, tight, and I’m crushed.
I just stand there, nodding foolishly.Unable to push ‘no’ out of my mouth.Why?Because a silly, naïve part of me wishes this were real and true.Wishes he wants to marry me forme.
I can’t deal with this right now.One thing that is real is the gala.And it isn’t going to just magically be ready for tomorrow.It’s the only thing that will help me get my head on straight.Work.There isn’t much time left and lots of work still to do in preparation for tomorrow.Much like our fake relationship, the engagement will have to come to an end, but for now, I’ll go with his charade and bury my confusion and anger until we’re alone.
“Let’s go.”I push past their expectant gazes toward the door, stopping to pick up the design plan.
“Wait a sec.”Morgan yanks at my elbow.“We’re going to be related.This is so amazing.”
“Yes.”I swallow past the lump swelling in my throat.
Zach’s eyes bore into me and I shoot him a tight-lipped smile, not able to look him in the eye.My insides are a bloody battlefield of emotions, bleeding and wounded from the end of whatever this is.Work is the only thing that will see me through today.Why did he have to do this?
The timing sucks.Thanks, Zach.
Tomorrow is the biggest day of my life.I put my heart and soul into the gala and it has to go off without a hitch.I can’t be distracted by some silly proposal.
The ring sits, snug and foreign, on my finger and I resist the urge to take it off.“Please, let’s get to work.”
No one protests and before long, I’m immersed in the numerous tasks needing completion before today is done.The committee members are in working groups, finishing the brochures on our charity and finalizing the giveaways.Things are going smoothly.Or as smoothly as they can with a surprise proposal dumped in my lap.
But then it all goes to hell.
Nan makes a comment and since she’s across the room, I can’t make out the words, but I don’t need to.She leans into Bettina and says something about the ring or proposal—the one thing I had hoped would go unsaid.
Like a heat-seeking missile, Bettina locks gazes with me and while I’m sure it’s only a beat, or two at the most, our staring contest feels like forever.And then she breaks the connection, moving in for the kill.
Marching over to me, ladies follow, crowding behind her, and the sight is intimidating.My first instinct is to run or hide.Who am I kidding?The sensation of being on the edge, ready to spring into action, isn’t new.I’ve wanted to run and hide since Zach put the ring on my finger.
Bettina grabs my hand, squeezing my fingers in her larger palm.“It’s beautiful.I’m so happy for you.Zach is a lucky man.”
The women swarm around me, pawing my hand, gushing over the two-carat halo diamond ring.Nan stands silent and proud, overseeing the entire affair—one which she orchestrated.
“Thank you.”The response sounds strange and inappropriate but it’s all I’ve got.
“What’s going on over here?”says a woman, cutting through the mob.Blonde hair grabs my attention and my heart sinks into my stomach.Reagan Hussey.When did she get here?
She had been coy about whether she’d be able to be here today and while I certainly need the help, I was also grateful there was a chance she might not show.No matter howhelpfulshe claims to be, whenever she’s around, things are difficult.
Even though I’m the center of attention, Reagan pays me no mind, sparing not even a glance at my face.Instead, she tilts her gaze down to my hand, now in Mrs.Gallagher’s grip.Finally she lifts her head, giving me a clown-like smile, too tight and maniacal to be real.
“That’s my ring,” she says accusingly, and heads snap in my direction.Some even grill me with a guilty look, as though I belong behind bars without even knowing what crime I’ve committed.
“Pardon?”My lips are dry and my head swims.
“Zach proposed to me with that ring.”She juts out her chin, a small pout forming on her lips.
All the air is sucked out of the room.Mrs.Gallagher drops my hand as if my implied treachery is contagious and I can barely breathe.Reagan squares her shoulders, placing her French-manicured hands on her hips and scowls, waiting expectantly for me to explain.
My mouth opens and closes like a fish, but no sound comes out.Even if I wanted to refute her claim, I can’t find my voice let alone get air into my lungs.The blood drains from my face, I’m certain of it, and as nauseous as I am pale, I step back.
“He loved me and we were going to get married.How’d you get that ring?”
“I...”I stumble back.
“Take it off and get out of here.”Reagan points at me, her cheeks reddening by the second.“You’re a thief and it’s an utter disgrace to have you running things, let alone associated with the foundation.”
“This is preposterous.Stop,” Nan says, now at my side.”Zachary never proposed to you.”
