I've been telling myself otherwise. Telling myself that whatever brought me here, whatever his original motives were, something real has grown between us. That the way he looks at me, touches me, holds me like I might disappear—that can't all be manufactured.
But the doubt keeps creeping back. Mom’s warnings. The article about his parents. The pattern I can't unsee.
I use the restroom, wash my hands, check my makeup in the mirror. The woman staring back at me looks polished, elegant, expensive. The emerald dress. The diamond earrings. The careful waves in my dark hair.
I barely recognize myself.
I take a breath and head back.
The hallway is dimly lit, designed for discretion. Private alcoves for private conversations. The kind of place where deals are made and secrets are kept.
I'm almost back to the dining room when I hear Marcus's voice.
He's standing in one of the alcoves, his back partially turned, phone pressed to his ear. I slow my steps, not wanting to interrupt.
"No, it's going perfectly," he's saying. "Better than expected, actually."
I should keep walking. Should give him his privacy.
But something in his tone makes me pause. There’s a smugness there. A satisfaction that feels too sharp, too knowing.
"Phoenix really came through," Marcus continues. "I mean, a month ago he didn't even have one good candidate. I was starting to worry we'd have to postpone. You know how these old money types are—they want to see stability before they'll commit."
My feet stop moving.
"But now look at us. The optics are perfect. She's gorgeous, but most imporantly, she’s smart and charming. She’s got them eating out of her hand." He laughs, low and pleased. "I don't know where he found her, but she's worth every penny."
The words hit me like a slap.
Worth every penny.
"Right, right. No, they don't suspect anything. She thinks she's here as his date. Very sweet, actually. Very naive." Another laugh. "Phoenix knows what he's doing. Always has. The man could sell ice to Eskimos—finding a convincing girlfriend was nothing."
I press my hand against the wall to steady myself.
A convincing girlfriend.
Worth every penny.
Very naive.
The pieces fall into place with sickening clarity. The check that arrived out of nowhere. The plane ticket. The beautiful house by the sea. The dress, the diamonds, the careful attention to every detail of my appearance tonight.
Not romance.
Investment.
I'm not his girlfriend. I'm his prop. His proof of stability. A line item on a budget somewhere, filed under "optics" and "investor confidence."
Everythinghas been a lie.
Marcus is still talking, oblivious to my presence. "The Teo’s are definitely in. I could see it on Richard's face during dinner. And if they're in, the others will follow. Phoenix just had to look like he had his shit together for once, and?—"
He turns slightly, and I step back into the shadows, my heart pounding so hard I'm sure he must hear it.
"—yeah, exactly. The girlfriend angle was genius. These conservative investors, they want to know you're not going to blow their money. A serious relationship says 'I'm mature, I'm responsible, I'm in it for the long haul.' Phoenix understood that."
I repeat the last line in my mind.
