Penny
Icould not believe that Garrett had foisted Bronwyn on me.
"I guess you're not as untouchable and special as you think," she said, flipping her perfectly straight hair.
I wanted to throw in her face how much attention, exactly, Garrett had given me last night. But I restrained myself. It was bad enough that I still hadn't found a way around giving my mother information on Garrett and his family. I definitely shouldn't be blabbing about what he and I were doing after-hours.
As if she knew I was thinking about her, my mother called me. I ignored it, though I knew it would make her furious.
"Is that him?" Bronwyn shrieked, grabbing for my phone.
"No, it’s not," I said, snatching it back from her.
"You don't even know Garrett. I can't believe you'd think he would be into you," I shot at her.
"We went on a date," Bronwyn said smugly.
"Really?" I replied skeptically. "To where?"
"We had lunch in his office."
"So you didn't go on a date, you had a working lunch. You're delusional. You know that, right?"
"We had a connection," Bronwyn said, mouth screwed up in anger. "He likes girls like me! He said so."
"He did?" I said in disbelief.
"Yes."
"To you?"
"Not to me exactly," Bronwyn said, nose in the air, "but I heard Garrett talking to his brothers. He said he wants a sporty girl who eats healthy and is slim and has perfectly straight hair and nice clear skin."
I looked down at my body then kicked myself, because I knew that was what Bronwyn wanted me to do.
"You don't fit any of the criteria," she sneered. "Men like him don't date, let alone marry, girls like you. You’re the tumble in the hay before he finds a real compatible woman who he can take to fancy charity balls."
"Are you going to help plan the party or not?" I mumbled.
"Not. I know it's going to be a disaster, just like you."
* * *
"Can I ask you a question?"I said in the car that evening.
Garrett grunted, not looking up from his phone.
"What is your ideal woman?"
"I always imagined myself with someone like a vegan marathon runner. You know, the crazy math types who count calories and macros, the sort of well-bred girls who only have trophy jobs and don't really need to work," he said absently.
My stomach churned. I thought I was going to puke.Guess it's a good thing we didn't go all the way.
"However," Garrett said, but his phone rang before he could continue. He answered tersely.
I sped the car up and screeched to a halt in front of the Svensson estate. Garrett unbuckled his seat belt and stepped out of the car. He signaled to me to wait a moment, but I slammed the door closed and drove away.
"Crap, I'm so stupid! I guess this is the sign I needed. You want that article sample, Trisha?Fine."
