“Neither is sewing wedding dresses.”
“That is literally a real job. I am literally a small-business owner, and you shill weight loss supplements that will probably give people cancer.”
“You’re just jealous of me,” my sister shot back then brushed me off to go back to manipulating Mark.
I seethed the rest of the evening as Memphis Eve hung on Mark.
What am I going to do?I thought as I sipped my umpteenth glass of champagne. Sure, I didn’t exactly like Mark, but my sister was clearly after something, and she was going to use him and possibly ruin him.
I was feeling slightly woozy and went out on the balcony. It was a bit chilly, and I shivered as I sipped my wine.
“…Okay, well, I’m at my mom’s fundraiser. Yes…I’m sorry he’s howling, Mrs. Patel. I’ll be back soon and get him.”
Mark ended his call and leaned against the railing. Meanwhile, I stood as still as a statue. Why? Why was Mark out here right now? I had clearly had too much champagne and rich food and was wigging out.
Mark peered at me in the dark then quirked his mouth slightly. It wasn’t a smile, but it was edging in that direction.
“That dog is causing me too many issues,” Mark said. He was looking at me oddly.
“You kept it?”
“Well…” He looked chagrined. “I’ve already named him, and my family is excited that I have a dog. My cousin is already organizing playdates.” His mouth twitched slightly. “My parents would really think I had lost it if I suddenly got rid of the puppy at this point.”
Gahh! I had been half hoping that he would say something awful so I could label him as an asshole deserving of whatever my twin sister had in store for him. But he had adopted the stray dog. And named him. And was organizing playdates!
I made a face at Mark. “Now that you’re one of those dog people, are you going to start walking around with him in a stroller?”
“No way. Beowulf is going to be a monster. I think he’s already put on two pounds since he moved in. I’ve got him on an all-raw diet. I bet he’s got some German shepherd in him,” Mark bragged, sounding almost like a proud dad as he talked about the dog.
My ovaries popped.Curse you.“Mark,” I began.
He blinked at me, his face soft in the light from the open door to the ballroom.
I swallowed. “I need to tell you something.”
How do you tell someone who you don’t hate but rather actively dislike that your evil twin sister is trying to pull a fast one on him?
“I think you shouldn’t go out with Memphis Eve,” I said in a rush.
Mark leaned his hip against the railing and crossed his arms. “Why not?” he asked, eyes narrowed. “She’s pretty, smart, an entrepreneur.”
Jesus, are men seriously that dumb that they can’t tell an Instagram thot when she sprays her silicone lip fillers all over his suit?
“Because…” I looked around helplessly. Beyond the large French doors that led to the ballroom, Memphis Eve was searching around for Mark.
Just leave him to his own devices!the sexy devil on my shoulder insisted.
But he has a puppy!the angel shrieked.
Tick tock.
“Why can’t I be with her?” Mark asked me, head tilted slightly; a lock of his hair brushed over his forehead.
Memphis Eve crossed the marble floor toward us, two glasses of champagne in her hands.
Do something!
I took two steps, reached out, and grabbed Mark’s lapels just as my twin pushed through the glass doors. Then I took a deep breath and reached up on my toes—gosh, he was so tall!—and pressed my mouth to his.
