"You know what the problem with having a twin brother is?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Everyone expects you to be the same person. But we're not. One of us is the good version, and one of us is the disappointing copy."
I glanced at him in the mirror. His eyes were still closed, jaw clenched tight enough to see the muscle jump. For someone who looked like he'd just walked off a cowboy catalog shoot—albeit a disheveled one—he seemed genuinely miserable.
"I'm sure that's not true," I said, slipping into customer service mode. Agree, sympathize, get them home, collect your money, move on.
"Oh, it's completely true." He laughed, but there wasn't anything funny in it. "Hudson's getting married. Did I mention that? My twin brother is marrying the perfect Southern belle in a Valentine's Day wedding."
"Valentine's Day?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. "That's really soon."
"This Saturday." He sat up straighter, apparently finding his second wind. "Three days away. Three days until I have to watch Hudson and Kendall pledge their eternal love surrounded by what I can only assume will be an ungodly number of hearts and roses."
Despite myself, my mouth twitched. "Sounds memorable."
"It's going to be a fucking nightmare." He rubbed his face with both hands, wincing when his fingers found the bruise on his jaw. "And you know what my mother asked me today? If I was bringing anyone. Like it's not bad enough watching Hudson be everything I'm not—I also have to show up solo while everyone whispers about how I can't keep a girlfriend."
The bitterness in his voice was real. Rich people problems weren't exactly the same as wondering if you had money for diapers, but pain was pain.
"So bring someone," I said. "You're..." I stopped myself before saying "gorgeous enough that women probably throw themselves at you all the time." No need to inflate his ego. "I'm sure you know someone willing to go to a wedding."
"That's the thing." He leaned forward between the seats, and I caught expensive cologne mixed with booze and something else—trouble, probably. "They'd all think it meant something. That we were going somewhere. That showing up to my brother's wedding together means we're headed toward something serious."
He paused, running a hand through his already-messy hair, making it worse. "God, I sound like an asshole."
"Little bit," I agreed.
That made him smile, and wow—the man had a dimple. Of course he did.
"I appreciate your honesty," he said. "Most people just tell me what I want to hear."
"I'm not most people."
"I'm starting to see that." He studied me with those unsettlingly green eyes. "You from around here?"
"Born here. Left for a while. Came back." I kept it vague. The less said about Houston, the better.
"Why come back to Bitter Root? Most people are trying to escape small towns."
"Maybe I liked what I left behind." Not entirely a lie. I'd left Mom, left safety, left the possibility of being someone other than the girl who'd thrown everything away.
We drove in silence for a minute. Maybe he'd passed out, but then he spoke again, his voice different. Thoughtful.
"What if I paid you?"
I nearly swerved into the ditch. "Paid me to what?"
"To be my date. For the wedding." He sat up fully now, leaning forward far enough that whiskey scented his breath. "Think about it—you're perfect. You don't know me, you don't know my family, you have zero expectations. It's just business. A transaction."
Laughter bubbled up before I stopped it. "You want to pay your Uber driver to be your wedding date? That's your plan?"
"Why not?" His eyes met mine in the mirror, suddenly sharp despite the alcohol. "You're driving strangers around at midnight on a Wednesday. I'm guessing you need money. I need a date who won't make it complicated. Simple transaction."
The bluntness should've offended me, but he wasn't wrong. Money—I needed it desperately. The kind of need that kept you up at night doing math in your head, trying to figure out which bill you'd put off another month.
"And what would this cost you?" I kept my voice casual.
He pulled out his phone, squinting at the screen. "What's fair? A thousand? Two thousand?"
My heart kicked against my ribs. Two thousand dollars would cover rent for two months. It would finally let me stopchoosing between the electric bill and groceries. It would mean Daisy having new clothes that actually fit instead of hand-me-downs from Mom’s daycare families.
