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Lydia laughs. “Oh, I think some people might make assumptions, but anyone who knows Ford knows he’s not the type to date an assistant or keep one around just because she’s pretty. Unlike so many other annoying men I could name.” She rolls her eyes. “I think that’s how Ford let you in. He’s so closed off. I love him, he’s my brother, but he doesn’t really confide in anyone.”

“I am the person in charge of his calendar,” I admit.

“See? Of course he’d end up dating the one assistant who’s lasted this long. You’re someone he trusts, someone who knows him, and Ford had to let you in. I’m not surprised it became romantic. And I’m just so glad he has you.”

Lydia really does sound so happy, I actually feel awful about the fact that Ford and I will need to stage a breakup when this is all over. She’s a good person and a good sister. She wants the best for her brother, and she thinks that’s me.

This is going to be more complicated than I thought.

I just never dreamed that Ford’s family would be happy for him. I thought they’d think this was weird and creepy, and would probably condemn me as a gold digger, and would be relieved when we ‘broke up’. Now I’m setting Lydia up to get hurt. That makes my stomach churn.

“He has Hayden and Gabriel, too,” I say quickly. Ford won’t be alone after our ‘breakup’. “They’re like brothers to him.”

The moment I say it, I wince, knowing how that sounds. But Lydia just chuckles. “You don’t have to look so panicked.” She squeezes my hand again, then lets go and resumes snacking. “They are like brothers to him. Sometimes they really do feel like brothers to me, too. I think it’s good for Ford.”

I bite my lip. “So he and Liam… aren’t very close.”

“They’ve never really, um, understood each other,” Lydia says, clearly trying to be diplomatic. “They’re really different in personality, always have been. I know they say opposites attract and all that, but when it’s your sibling I think it can just make you annoyed.”

“Siblings are a whole different ballgame,” I agree. I don’t have any myself, but I want to be supportive.

Personally, I agree with Lydia more than she realizes. Liam and Ford couldn’t possibly be more different. And even though Ford would never actually want me, I know that if I were to choose now between the brothers, I’d go with him. He’s far more reliable, thoughtful, and steady than Liam. Even as a fake fiancé, he’s already treated me with more kindness and respect than Liam ever did.

We finish eating and Lydia insists on giving me a tour of the house and then a walk through the grounds. “I know it’s winter so they’re much better in spring. I mean I love the snow but it’s hard to give a tour of the rose garden and the herb garden and the koi pond when you can’t see any of it.”

I enjoy it anyway, and tell her so. The grounds are still beautiful, and I really love the snow and how peaceful it all is. We have a snowball fight which honestly helps me feel young again. Lydia’s in college so she’s a good seven years younger than I am, and it helps me a lot to be around someone so carefree.

When I was in college, I was so stressed all the time. I had thought I was working toward my dream, but I was taking on extra work to make that happen, and it was a lot. I hadn’t had time for friends or parties. I was studying and then working on top of that to make ends meet.

Lydia doesn’t have to worry about any of that, and I’m so grateful. I hope, someday, if I’m lucky enough to meet a man and have kids as I hope to, that I’ll be able to gift them with that same stability so they can be so carefree, too.

We go back in and clean up a little just in time for dinner. Luckily, even though the table is set beautifully and the house itself is fancier than anything I’ve ever been in before, everyone’s dressed on the casual side, so I don’t feel underdressed.

“Oh, good, you’re all on time for once,” Elaine notes. “And we didn’t even have to drag you three out of the office.”

“It is the holidays, Mother, as you keep reminding us,” Ford replies. He walks up to me, his hands falling casually to my waist like they belong there, and I realize he’s going to kiss me hello.

Shit. Should it be on the cheek? On the mouth? What would I do if he really was my fiancé?

My mind goes blank for a second, and in that short beat of hesitation, Ford takes the lead, dropping his head and pressing his lips to mine.

16

MAEVE

Ford’s kiss is soft and quick, but proprietary somehow. Possessive, even though it’s short.

My stomach performs an entire gymnastics routine, and I have to give it a stern mental talking to about appropriate responses to fake fiancés. I can’t help the way my body responds to a handsome man like Ford kissing me—especially like this, as if I belong to him, as if the intimate way he’s touching me is an everyday occurrence. But that doesn’t mean I have to let myself think it’s anything more than an involuntary reaction.

We settle around the massive mahogany dining table, where we’re served by staff who move with the practiced grace of people accustomed to wealth I can’t even fathom. A young man and woman, both polished and professional, glide between courses with the kind of effortless efficiency that comes from years of training. I didn’t see them in the kitchen earlier, so they must be specifically hired for service—another casual display of the Kingsley family’s resources that makes my head spin.

The seating arrangement feels strategically planned. Lydia and I anchor the middle on opposite sides, with Liam flanking Lydia’s left and Hayden on her right, while Gabriel claims my left and Ford stakes his territory to my right. His proximity sends little electric shocks up my arm every time he shifts, and I’m grateful for my culinary school training—at least I know which fork to use and won’t embarrass myself by reaching for the salad fork during the main course.

“Do you always have full courses like this for dinner?” I lean toward Ford, keeping my voice low enough that his mother won’t think I’m criticizing her hospitality.

“Only during holidays when the family’s together.” His breath tickles my ear, making me shiver. “Mother believes in making everything feel like an occasion.”

I wish I could absorb even an ounce of that belonging, that casual confidence that comes with growing up in a world where five-course dinners are just Tuesday night when everyone’s home. Instead, I feel like I’m wearing a costume that doesn’t quite fit, playing a role I’m still learning. But I’m determined not to let Ford down, so I paste on what I hope passes for a natural smile and tune into the elegant chatter flowing around me.