Lord Dickhead:I was able to pull a few strings and someone from your matchmaking website told me that you found a match and that you’re meeting her today. Cannot wait to hear all about your new fiancée.
“Fuuuuuck,” I drag out.
“What?” Rupert asks.
I show him the screen.
“Well, that’s an invasion of privacy,” he responds. “I say we take knives to the owner’s house.”
“Yeah, because that will go over well.” I shake my head and toss my phone to the side while thinking about Renley. Just from her looks and attitude alone, I could imagine getting along with her. And her house didn’t have any red flags besides the whole hobby horse thing, but that seems like just an aunt problem, and who doesn’t like some eccentricity in their life?
“What are you thinking over there?”
“Maybe…I don’t know, maybe I need to try harder with Renley. Maybe she needs to see what I have to offer. Make a case for myself.”
“You have a lot to offer…in the trousers alone.”
“You know, when you talk about my dick like that, it makes me feel weird.”
“Tingly?”
“No.” I push at my friend. Christ. “Just weird. Keep my dick out of the conversation.”
“Hard to when it has such a large presence.” I glance at my friend and catch his troublemaking smirk.
“Can you be serious for a second? I’m in deep, man.”
“Which is why you should have said it was a fake account when your father brought it to your attention.”
“What good is bringing that up? It’s over and done with. I’m here, now, in a goddamn situation that you got me into in the first place.”
“You’re right, you’re right. Okay, if you don’t think any of these other women fit what you’re looking for, then I say we attempt to get to know Renley, convince her you’re the man to be interested in. Your bone structure alone should intrigue her.”
I run my hand over my jaw. “I do have a brilliant face.”
“Precisely, so let’s use that to our advantage.”
RENLEY
“I don’t know, he seemed nice,” Aunt Kitty says before taking a bite of her scone.
Despite kicking our company out of our home, Aunt Kitty didn’t want our “teatime” to go to waste, so she brewed some tea, set out place settings, and invited Tilly to stay for tea and scones.
I’ve been so out of sorts and nauseous from the morning’s events that I can’t even touch my food.
“For someone looking for a fiancée online to marry sight unseen, I mean, he did seem nice,” Tilly says. “By the way, this tea is delightful.”
“I read the brewing instructions, really makes a difference.”
“I can see that. No wonder the British enjoy their teatime.”
I look between the two people who are supposed to be my closest confidantes and all I feel is irritation.
“I need some air,” I say, pushing away from the table.
“Want us to join you?”
I shake my head. “I’m good.”
