Page 4 of Strictly Pretend

She shakes her head. “No, I went to Sanford with Mia.”

I’ve heard of it. It’s one of the most prestigious all girls’ schools in the state.

“Or I did until I was thirteen, then I left.” She finishes the glass again, and I think about suggesting she slows down, but there’s an edge of steel to her. I figure she can police her own alcohol intake.

“So how did you reconnect?”

“We bumped into each other at JFK. And a while later she introduced me to my boyfriend.”

So she has one.

“My ex-boyfriend,” she says, frowning. “Not that he knows that yet. Although he could take a wild guess.”

“The guy you were dancing with earlier?” I ask her. She turns to look at me.

“Yeah. Did you see me?”

“I did. So why is he an ex?”

She lets out a long sigh. “Because I just saw him having sex with the bride’s cousin.”

“Jemima?” Oh boy, this is the wedding that keeps on giving.

Two tiny frown lines appear between her brows. “You know her?”

I shrug. “I think I know everybody here. Either I went to prep school with them, college with them, or I know them through our families.”

She tips her head to the side, eyeing me carefully. “You don’t know me.”

“No,” I conceded. “I don’t.”

“Are you one ofthem, then?” she asks.

“One of what?” I’m enjoying talking to her way too much. I had planned to drown my sorrows then head back to my bungalow. Weddings are an exquisite form of torture. Good food, great drink. Miserable vibes.

“A trust fund baby.”

I lift a brow. “I’m thirty-two. Not exactly a baby.”

“Do you have a trust fund?” she asks.

“Why do you want to know?”

“There’s a war going on here,” she says, leaning closer to me. “I need to know whose side you’re on.”

“What kind of war?” I lean closer too. She has the most expressive eyes. I think they’re green, though it’s hard to tell in this light. She runs the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip.

And of course I watch.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I think I’ve drunk too much.” She lets out a sigh. “And I don’t have any shoes.”

“I know. I watched you throw them into the lake.” My lips twitch at the memory.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” She frowns and puts her hand on my shoulder. I’m only wearing my dress shirt. My jacket is onthe ground next to me. I can feel the heat of her palm leaching through the thin cotton.

She’s close enough now that I can feel her breath on my face.

“Would you have let me stop you?” I murmur to her.

---