Page 21 of Maid For Each Other

“I’m going to go find the bartender,” Declan said to Theo, “because Abi here got herself some wine but completely left me empty-handed.”

“I assumed, Declan Connor Powell, that you were capable of getting your own drink,” I said, teasing like I would if he were actually my boyfriend.

It felt like an actor breaking the third wall when he gave me a playful grin and said, “You actually used my middle name.”

“Of course I did,” I replied, grinning back.

His eyes moved over my face for an extended moment, like he was considering something about me, and then it was like he decided. I’m not sure if I earned his trust for the evening or if he was testing me, but he led me farther into the room and we proceeded to become Team Social Butterfly.

My fake boyfriend owned the room.

He helloed everyone and their brothers, smiling and back-slapping as the string quartet played Ariana Grande and I pretended to belong. He led every conversation, introducing me as if I was the love of his life before quickly guiding the attention away from me so I didn’t have to answer any questions.

Every time we finished one conversation, someone else was ready and waiting to engage with Declan. It was a little nauseating, to be honest, the way everyone jostled to kiss his feet, but he had an air about him, like he was next in line for the throne or something.

“Abi!” Declan’s mom appeared in front of us, grinning like she was having the very best time. I’d noticed that even though Declan’s parents were retired, they appeared to still be very involved in the company. “I wasn’t finished with you.”

“You mean you didn’t get to ask her twenty questions while my back was turned?” Declan asked.

“Exactly,” she said, laughing. “I was going to hit Abi up for the details of who you really are as a boyfriend. When no one else is around.”

“Gross,” Declan said, and I laughed out loud at his tone.

He was kind of funny when he wasn’t exuding untouchable, rich, and powerful.

“So are you looking for a cute anecdote that shows how romantic your son is?” I asked, doing my best not to grin like the cat who ate the canary as I looked at Declan.

His face gave away nothing, but I knew he wasn’t amused. It was one thing for us to share a quick moment of collusion while in our act, but it was another thing entirely for me to tell lies to his parents.

I knew I should probably care, but I was so powerless in our situation that I felt the need to grasp this tiny little morsel of power.

The only power I had.

The power tomesswith him.

“Yes, please,” she replied, smiling. Then she turned to a lady in a long silver dress and said, “Come over here, Barb, you need to hear this.”

The woman came over and Declan’s mom said, “This is Dex’s girlfriend, Abi, and she was just about to give us an example of Declan being romantic.”

I refused to look at Declan. I said, “There are so many great stories, it’s hard to think of just one.”

And I smiled like a lovesick idiot.

“Maybe don’t, then,” Declan muttered.

“I’ll start with my favorite,” I said, lifting a hand to brush fake lint from his jacket sleeve. “One day, he wanted to buy me a kitten because I said it was cute, right? It was so thoughtful of him, but I had to be honest because I’m deathly allergic to cats. I was allthank you, babe, but I like breathing.”

I beamed up at him, and he kind of looked like he wanted to murder me.

So I kept going.

“But instead of letting it go at that, he did all this research to find a hypoallergenic cat and surprised me with it—Little Dexxie—along with a bouquet of albuterol inhalers and EpiPens.”

“You’re kidding!” Barb cackled.

“Sheiskidding,” Declan said with a straight face. “That isnotits name.”

“And the kitten was nice, Barb,” I said, feeling like a legend as the power went straight to my head, “but the bouquet is what really swept me off my feet. I mean, asthma medicine isnotcheap.”

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