Page 49 of Strictly Pretend

I lift a brow. “And this is one of my relationships.” Albeit fake.

“Well I’m not splitting up with you yet,” she says. “So we’d better go through your family again. Myles then Linc…”

“Liam,” I correct.

“Dammit, why couldn’t your dad have fewer children?” she says, looking annoyed with herself.

“A question I ask myself all the time.”

EMMA

“You’re here!” Cassie squeals out, running toward the black town car that picked us up from the airport. From the tarmac, no less. I felt like a princess walking down the airplane stairs and straight through the open car door the driver was holding while the airport staff moved our luggage over.

Cassie’s dad’s ranch doesn’t look like a ranch at all. Not the kind I’ve seen in my imagination, anyway. I was thinking of a white low building with picket fences and cattle grazing. Maybe a cowboy or two.

Instead, her home is an estate with rolling hills and a mountain in the distance. At the center of the land – which we’ve been driving through for at least twenty minutes, the house rises from the grass as though it’s organically grown. It’s set on top of a series of terraces, surrounded by trees. Built of yellow stone, with gray slate roofs – yes, roofs – there are two round towers at the center that make you feel like you’ve entered some kind of old world fairyland.

She yanks open the door and pulls me out, enveloping me in her arms. “I’m so happy you came.”

Brooks walks toward us, carrying my purse. I’m still getting used to him being nice to me. I’m actually enjoying it, even if it is all pretend.

“We’ve got a lot to catch up on,” she whispers in my ear.

“Hi Brooks,” she says, holding her hand out to him. He shakes it and then she turns her attention back to me. “So, most of our guests are already here. They’ve gone out on a cattle drive today. Which gives me a chance to show you around before weall have to meet for dinner. Are you hungry? I can get some food for you if you’d like?”

“No, I’m fine.” I smile at her, because somehow she’s making everything so much easier. “How about you?” I ask Brooks.

He gives Cassie the sweetest smile. “I’m good, too.” He slides his arm around my waist and it makes me jump. Cassie looks from him to me with a quizzical expression on her face.

“Okay then,” she says, still taking us in. “Are you okay?” she asks Brooks. “You seem… different.” And we both know she means he isn’t being his usual brooding self.

“Ignore him,” I tell her. “He smashed his head on a table when we went through some turbulence. It put him in a good mood.” I turn and kiss his cheek. “You can be yourself,” I whisper in his ear. It feels good to be the one who isn’t messing things up for once.

“This is me being myself.”

We follow Cassie through the archway to the double oversized front doors, which actually have studs on them like they belong on a medieval castle. Without her saying anything, or pushing anything, they open, and it’s only when we walk inside that I see a man standing behind them.

“Thanks, Sam,” she says, and she takes my hand and squeezes it. Brooks’ phone rings and he mutters a low oath.

“Sorry, I need to take this,” he tells me. “I’ll just go outside.”

“It’s hot out there,” Cassie tells him, as though we both didn’t already feel the blast of sun as we walked from the car to the house. “Sam, can you show Brooks to the library? He can take the call there.”

“Of course.”

I watch as the two men disappear, then Cassie slides her arm through mine. “Oh, my God. Brooks Salinger?” she says, her eyes widening. “And he’s smiling. How did that happen?”

My heart races. This is it. I haven’t had to lie to a friend before. “We met at Mia’s wedding. And then his company bought the building that we lease to run my granddad’s shop. It’s a long story, but… here we are.” I force a smile on my face, trying to look in love, but I think I just look weird because Cassie’s brows knit together.

“Tell me,” she says, leading me into a huge living room complete with overstuffed leather sofas, a fireplace that a family of four could comfortably live inside, and chandeliers – in the plural – made from what look like deer antlers, “how did you get him to smile? Is it the sex? Did you do it on the airplane?”

Here we go. I can’t wait to tell Brooks I’m already getting asked about sex with him. This is the reason I needed to know all his gory preferences. “No,” I say as she points out a couple of paintings by artists I probably should have heard of, plus a Georgia O’Keefe I definitely have heard of. “He slept most of the way.” It turns out he went to the office before coming to pick me up, hence the suit. Some kind of meeting with a company in Europe. I hate to think about what time he got up this morning.

“He’s so handsome,” she says. “And smart.” She pulls me against her. “And I can’t begin to tell you how angry Will looked when I mentioned you two would be coming to the wedding together.”

“He’s here?” I ask. Funny thing is, I’d almost forgotten about him. In the past few weeks of getting to know Brooks and worrying about the shop, he’s become unimportant in my mind.

Truth is, I’d forgotten why we were pretending at all. Maybe I’d even forgotten we were pretending.

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