“I don’t know. I feel dizzy. Maybe you can just…rest here with me for a moment, you know, so I’m not alone in a strange place suffering from a concussion.”
Her eyes narrow ever so slightly and her assessing gaze washes over me. I hold still in my bewilderment and need for help. After a few seconds, she drags out, “Surrre.”
Still got her hooked.
“Thank you.”
She helps me over to the tree and together we lean up against it, the leaves above us lightly rustling in the breeze.
“So…uh, did you enjoy your walk?” I ask.
“Not really.”
“Why not?”
“Umm, maybe because I thought I was going to meet an investor today but instead I found a guy looking to get married. Kind of put me in a bad mood.”
Ooh, spicy.
Okay, so proposing under the tree with a gash on my head to gain sympathy is probably not going to work.
“Yeah, crazy mix-up, huh? But you know, in situations like this, you have to ask yourself, how are you going to make the most of it? What?—”
Snap.
Turning toward the sound of a branch breaking, Renley looks behind her, and I know the moment she spots Rupert because her face falls flat with anger.
When her eyes meet mine, I can see a blaze of fire erupt.
Uh-oh.
“Are you kidding me right now? This was a setup?”
Now, I could act dumb and pretend like I don’t know what she’s talking about.
Or I could fess up and maybe gain some credit for not lying.
I think we know which way I have to go.
Kill Rupert later, tell the truth now.
“I wouldn’t call it a setup,” I say cautiously. “More like a way to get your attention so you can get to know me better. Did it…uh…did it not work?” I try to tack on a smile, but she’s not falling for it.
Huffing, she stands and takes off without another word.
Great. I was so close to winning her over…at least that’s how I plan on remembering it, neglecting the skepticism that was heavy in her facial expressions.
I round the bushes, where I find Rupert looking guilty as fuck.
“I’m going to guess she heard that.” He winces.
“You couldn’t sit still for a few fucking minutes?” I chastise.
“My leg was cramping. I still feel hungover from the plane, the humidity is slowly killing me, and you have yet to offer me an electrolyte drink. Excuse me for needing to shift my body.”
“You’re a complete prat.”
“This is not going to work,” I say to Rupert.
