Page 47 of My Real Love Affair

“Smell them. Look surprised and happy. Like your very real boyfriend just sent you very real flowers because he’s crazy about you.” Cleo positioned her camera. “Try to actually look happy. Not like you’re being held hostage by a flower arrangement.”

I laughed despite myself, and Cleo snapped the photo.

“Perfect,” she said, reviewing it. “That’s the one. Natural, genuine, happy. Post it.”

I pulled up Instagram and uploaded the photo, my fingers hovering over the caption box. What was I supposed to write? How did people caption flowers from their boyfriends?

I typed and deleted several attempts before finally settling on something simple:

When he knows exactly how to brighten your day! Thank you @AustinBancroft for the most beautiful surprise.

I added the rose and sparkle emojis—approved according to my own rules—and hit post.

Then I texted Austin.

Me:Posted. These are beautiful.

Three dots appeared immediately.

Austin:Just wait.

I showed Cleo my phone. “What does that mean?”

“I think we’re about to find out.”

We watched my Instagram, refreshing obsessively. The likes were already climbing. Comments rolled in from my followers.

OMG these are gorgeous!

Okay, this is so cute I’m crying.

Austin Bancroft really said “let me spoil my girl.”

The way he’s already so attentive??? I’m obsessed with them.

Then Austin’s comment appeared at the top. It had already been liked a few hundred times.

@AustinBancroft:Anything for my girl. You deserve flowers every day.

My breath caught. It was perfect. Sweet, public, exactly the right tone.

Cleo was reading over my shoulder, shaking her head slowly. “Girl, he’s good at this.”

“He said he’d handle it. I guess this is what he meant.”

Austin texted me.Comment back. Keep the momentum going.

I quickly added a comment and then stared at my phone, my heart doing acrobatics. This was all a performance. All part of the arrangement. But it felt real. Too real.

“Okay,” Cleo said slowly, watching my face. “I need to say something, and you’re not going to like it.”

“What?”

“Careful, girl.” Her expression was serious now. “Bancrofts are powerful. Like witches. Once they have you under their spell?” She clicked her tongue ominously.

My stomach did a little somersault. “I’m not under any spell,” I said, but my voice didn’t sound as convincing as I wanted. “This is a contract. A business arrangement. That’s all.”

“Is it, though?” Cleo gestured at my phone and then the flowers. And then she looked at me with her brows raised. I knew what she was seeing. I felt it. My face was flushed. “Because from where I’m sitting, you look like a girl who’s catching feelings for her fake boyfriend.”