Page 39 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

“What?” she asks. “I remember dates.”

I find Jean’s thread of messages and scroll back to the fourteenth of April. “Here,” I say, offering her my phone.

“Riiight,” she says sarcastically. But she takes my phone and scrolls through, skimming the messages, then hands it back to me. Some of the edge has gone out of her voice when she says, “Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m serious. I remember wondering how long it would take you to message me, and then you never did.”

She looks at me for a beat, then finally says, “Just think, if I’d have called you, we’d probably be married right now.”

I can’t help but smile at her. I can see clearly she wears a veneer ofI don’t care, but now that I know her a bit more, I can tell how fragile that veneer is.

“I was disappointed you didn’t call,” I say. “And we’re not married yet, but we’re heading in the right direction, judging by your left ring finger.”

She lets out a laugh, and I can feel pride push against my chest. “Thank god I misunderstood. I might have called and you’d be a fake fiancée down.” Our eyescatch. She looks away first. “But I didn’t and here we are. And yes, I got the list from Aesha. I’ll make sure I’m fiancée material on Friday night.”

Part of me wants to steer the conversation back to that night at the party. I want her to know that I really liked her and was hoping she’d call. But what good would it do? We’re trying to be friends. Anything more would lead to mess and complications.

“Good. I’m glad Aesha’s on it. If you need anything to wear, I have an account at Bergdorf’s.”

“What does that mean?”

“What do you think it means? It means if you need anything, go to Bergdorf’s and put it on my account.” She starts to laugh, and I turn to watch. I can’t not. “What?” I ask.

“I should just go and buy whatever I want?”

I shrug. “If you need something. If you were actually my fiancée, that’s what I’d say, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea. I’ve never been a billionaire’s fiancée before. Or anyone’s for that matter. The idea of someone paying for my clothes—or anything—it’s… a lot. Unusual to say the least.”

“You don’t have to go.”

She starts to laugh again. “I promise only to buy the bare minimum of what a fiancée of yours might need.”

I get a flash of her in a changing room, undressing in front of a mirror. I turn back to the view of the city.

Messy and complicated, I remind myself. And I’m not up for either.

FIFTEEN

Leo

Jules has just messaged that she’ll arrive outside of New River in about two minutes, so I call the lift to go meet her. It will be good to have a few moments alone to compose ourselves as a couple. This is a high-profile event and we need to look like the newly engaged pair I want the world to believe we are.

Thinking about it, we probably should have started off a little slower—maybe had dinner out in public together. I’m used to Jules the assistant: grumpy, efficient, chastising. And I’m used to Jules the roommate: effortlessly cool, funny, and a master at mac and cheese with a little bit of vulnerability simmering below the surface. But who will Jules the fiancée be?

My heart starts to pound in my chest as the lift descends and I realize I can’t wait to find out.

The doors open and she’s on the other side of them.

When she realizes it’s me standing in front of her, she breaks out into the biggest smile. “Hi!”

“Hi,” I say, slightly breathless. Slightly dazzled.

“Are you okay?” she asks. “Are you leaving?”

I shake my head and hold the doors open so she can walk in. “I came down to meet you. So you wouldn’t get lost.”

“That’s nice,” she says as she steps in and the doors close. “Is everything going to plan?”

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