Page 59 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

“You do that, Mom,” Rachel said, “and none of us will ever talk to you again. I’m going to buy a place near Luke, Grandma. I’ll make sure it’s got a nice room with a view for you.”

Hazel smiled. “I’d like that.” She turned to Mom. “And I’d like my jewelry back. I’m ready to give it to Rachel. They were going to be my wedding present, but I think this is a bigger reason to celebrate. That boy was never worthy of my Rachel.”

Rachel threw her arms around Hazel.

“That’s ridiculous. Those jewels are meant for the woman of the house. As Marcus’s wife, they should go to me.”

“You will never, ever wear that necklace, Margaret. Now, have Amy bring them to my room at once.” Hazel reached up and pressed her hand against Rachel’s cheek. “I’m sorry that you had to go through this, Rachel, but I think this all turned out for the best.” She turned to my mom. “You’d better start changing your ways before these children leave you for good. Now start making those calls. You’ve got a wedding to cancel.”

Mom stormed off in tears. I headed upstairs to the guest rooms. I was holding out a slim bit of hope that Isla hadn’t really gone for good. Maybe Mom misread the whole thing. I knocked, but there was no answer. I opened the door and stepped inside.

The bed quilts were rumpled, and the pillows sat in a mound next to the bed. I walked to the armoire and pulled open the doors. She’d left behind the dress. I supposed it held too many bad memories. I walked over and kicked the pile of pillows in frustration. They flew across the floor. Isla’s short boot, the one she wore during her unforgettable performance, sat alone on the floor. I picked it up. It was so small in my hand, and everything about it reminded me of Isla.

I hurried downstairs and ran into Amy. She looked shaken. Dad should have told David to leave himself and not sent Amy for the task, but that was his usual way. Don’t perform a task if you can order someone else to do it. I never wanted to be like that. “Amy, did you happen to see where Isla went this morning? Did someone come and pick her up?”

“As far as I know she didn’t go through the main gates. She must have left through the service gate.”

“Right. Thanks.” I hurried outside and ran along the path to the service gate. Ryan, one of the groundskeepers, was guiding in a landscaping truck filled with white roses. The wedding preparations were still in full swing. It would take some time to bring them to a screeching halt.

“Hey, Ryan, did you happen to see a young woman with light blonde hair and so high?” I lifted my hand to my chest. I knew exactly where she landed when she was in my arms and I could still feel her pressed against me on the dance floor, breathing in her sweet scent and feeling how right she felt in my arms.

“Yes, she stepped outside the gates. A car came and picked her up, an Uber driver, I think.”

“When did they leave?” I asked urgently.

“Been about thirty minutes.”

I was devastated. Thirty minutes was a good start.

“I heard her mention the Granville Bus Depot to the driver,” Ryan added.

“Granville, that’s about an hour from here, right?”

“I’d say so.”

“Thanks, Ryan. And by the way—the news hasn’t reached out here yet, but the wedding is cancelled.” I left a very speechless groundskeeper behind as I ran back to the house.

Rachel was sitting by the big fountain at the front of the house, texting. The earlier look of despair was gone, and she looked relieved about how things had turned out. She spotted me rushing out with my keys. “Interested in a drive to Granville?”

“Only if you’re chasing down Isla.”

“I sure am. Climb in.”

“Lovely day for a wedding,” Rachel joked as we pulled onto the highway.

“How are you feeling?”

“Relieved but also angry at myself for letting it get this far. As much as I’m loathe to admit it, you were right, big brother, David wasn’tfine. He and I were never a match. Dad and his amazing salesmanship sold me on the whole idea, and I thought what the heck? It wasn’t as if I was doing any better on my own.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” I mused. “What about Art Greer, the singer for that weird punk band?”

“All right, I was nineteen. Shall we start listing some of your less savory choices as well?”

“No, let’s leave the past in the past. Seriously though, I’m glad you found out before it was too late.”

“Me, too.” Rachel leaned the seat back. “I got up at the crack of dawn to see if I could run off another pound before I had to squeeze into the dress.” She sat up for a second. “If you see a Taco Bell, pull off. I’ve got a lot of lost calories to make up.”

“Not until I get to the bus depot.”

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