“Calm down, will ya? You’re making a scene.” She’s wearing a wicked smirk on her face as she speaks. I don’t trust her.
I’m sure she loves seeing me miserable. If I wasn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown, I’d kick her ass right this minute. But I’m too busy, hyperventilating at the moment.
“Do not tell me to calm down,” I bite before running out of the showroom, and locking myself in the dressing room, tripping on one of the many dresses in the process.
I nearly rip the lace-sleeved gown in my rush to get my arms out of the tight material. I’m sinking to the floor with the dress still swaddled around my waist when there’s a quiet knock at the door.
“Jules. Sweetie. It’s me,” sounds Alba’s quiet voice.
“I just need a minute. I just got too hot in the long sleeves,” I lie.
Alba’s silent for a moment. “You better let me in, because I’m not going anywhere.” Then she adds, “I grabbed your water.”
Still feeling weak and shaky, I lean forward and flip the lock. Alba slips into the room, takes in the ridiculous scene with me half-naked on the floor, and immediately drops down next to me.
My best friend hands me my water bottle. Then she takes hold of my hand and clings to it. I work to slow down my breathing enough to take a few cool, careful sips.
When my heart no longer feels like it’s going to explode out of my chest, I finally meet her eyes. “Thank you…”
“Oh, girl,” she whispers, softly stroking my hair. “What is actually going on here?”
“Can you keep a secret?” I whisper back.
She lifts a brow at me. “You kidding me? Of course. To the grave, sister.”
I drop my skull against the mirrored wall behind me. “This whole marriage is a sham,” I grumble.
“Shock! Gasp!” Alba mutters sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. “Bleh. I knew you were onto us.”
She giggles, then goes ultra-serious. “So, what’s going on? Is he blackmailing you? Forcing you to be his sex slave?”
I let out a weak chuckle, already starting to feel immensely better having gotten that off my chest. It also helps that I’m not shrink-wrapped in lace like a mummy-bride anymore.
“No, nothing like that. Lincoln’s a pain in my ass, but he’s…actually a good guy.” I exhale heavily. “I guess you could say this is a marriage of convenience. It’s a temporary thing. We’re doing this to help each other.”
“How?”
“He’ll be able to land an important business deal for his sports agency, and I’ll get my trust fund from my great-grandmother.”
“Wow…” is all Alba says.
“Yeah,” I respond.
She drops her head against my shoulder. “You could have told me, you know. That would have made the secret a little less heavy to carry.”
“I know. I’m a shitty friend.” I sigh. “It just all happened so quickly. And it feels like there’s so much at stake.”
“Do you think it’ll all go according to plan?” She peeks up at me. “You’ll both get what you want and go your separate ways? No complications?” Her words falter. “No broken hearts?”
“I…” I hesitate, looking down at my chipped fingernail polish. “I hope so.”
“You hope so?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“I mean, obviously I’m attracted to Lincoln. He’s a freaking Greek god in a button-down shirt.” I guffaw. “And the more we hang out together, the more I’m discovering who he really is. He has all these painfully noble qualities about him. It’s…annoying.”
Alba snorts. “Yeah. Okay. That soundssoannoying. Mind telling me what’s so terrible about liking the man you’re about to marry?”
