by Lauren Layne
Personality-wise, though, Linda definitely had lion vibes. She managed to seem both graceful and fierce, and she was definitely at the top of her food chain.
“Clarke. Audrey. So glad you could clear time in your busy social schedule to join us for dinner,” his mother said coolly as she greeted them both with an air-kiss.
“Thank you for having us,” Audrey said as Clarke stepped behind her to help her out of her coat.
“Of course.” Linda’s smile was brief, and vaguely sly. “After all, you’re going to be part of the family.”
Audrey hesitated, but Clarke’s palm pressed between her shoulder blades, reminding her of the game as he addressed his mother. “She absolutely is.”
Linda’s brown eyes flicked between them for a moment, then gave the slightest roll.
“Come on in. We’ll have some champagne to celebrate,” Clarke’s mom said, heading toward the living room.
“She knows,” Audrey said out of the corner of her mouth as Clarke ushered her forward. “She knows full well that we’re not actually engaged.”
“Of course she knows,” he answered quietly. “It’s her game. Hell, she’s probably delighted we decided to play.”
“Yes, but how does she possibly think she can win?”
Stepping into the formally stuffy living room a moment later, Audrey had her answer. Clarke’s mother was opening a bottle of Dom Pérignon, and his father was preoccupied with his cell phone.
And sitting on the couch was Clarke’s ex-girlfriend.
Audrey’s eyes widened in surprise as Elizabeth stood to greet them. “I hope this isn’t awkward,” Elizabeth said with a smile, coming to hug them both.
“Of course it isn’t awkward,” Linda said as she removed the champagne cork with a pop. “Audrey knows that Elizabeth’s an old friend of the family.”
Uh-huh. If Linda had it her way, Elizabeth would be a part of the family.
Audrey accepted the hug even as her mind reeled. Clarke’s mom was seriously ballsy. Elizabeth turned toward Clarke, and Audrey noticed Elizabeth’s hug was as lingering as Clarke’s was perfunctory.
“Liz,” he said, his voice gruff.
Audrey gave him a sharp look. She’d assumed him indifferent to Elizabeth. After all, it had been years since they’d dated, and he’d hardly seemed the least bit fazed when they’d broken up. But Elizabeth didn’t go by Liz, which meant it was a nickname—something she’d noticed Clarke was always careful to avoid with girlfriends. And there’d been something in his tone when he’d said it, something on his face right now…
Elizabeth held his gaze just a minute before slipping back into her congratulatory routine. “Linda had invited me over to join the family before we realized, well…” She reached for Audrey’s left hand. “It’s so nice to see you again. And I’ve been dying to see the ring!”
She gasped when she saw it. “Oh, Audrey. It’s just gorgeous.”
It was gorgeous. The Tiffany solitaire in a platinum setting was Audrey’s dream ring, and hey, if you were going to have an engagement for show, why not make it perfect?
Clarke slid a hand around Audrey’s waist, his palm resting against her hip, and she had to resist the urge to jump in surprise at the contact. They’d been playing fiancés all week. First with the Tiffany and Co. ring shopping, which he’d insisted she document in her Instagram Stories, in real time. Then fake-flirty dinner and a staged picture of her coffee table piled high with bridal magazines. Harmless, easily reversible stuff.
But this—the touching—this was new. Sure, she and Clarke had touched plenty in the past. Dances. Punches. Pinches. Pecks on the cheek. High fives. Hugs. But his hand on her hip was decidedly different. And posing as an engaged couple at his parents’ house was a whole other level of pretend, one Audrey wasn’t entirely comfortable with. She could stomach pretending for the sake of their public, but straight-up lying to friends and family didn’t feel right.
Not that Audrey had lied to her friends and family. She’d called her parents in California immediately to let them know what was going on, and as expected, her fun-loving mother was delighted by the charade, and Audrey’s father was affectionately tolerant. Naomi and Claire had also agreed to play along because it would mean getting Scandal Boy to back off.
But Clarke’s relationship with his parents was a different beast—chilly on a good day, downright antagonistic on a bad one. His mother was cold and controlling, his father dispassionate about everything except the family business.
And Elizabeth was as beautiful as ever, Audrey realized. Not in a delicate, dainty way. Elizabeth was nearly as tall as Clarke in her heels, and she had the sort of striking bone structure that was almost masculine in its sharp edges. But it was softened by a full mouth and light brown hair she wore in soft waves around her shoulders.
Looks aside, Audrey had never quite seen what Clarke and Elizabeth saw in each other. Clarke was carefree and outgoing, where Elizabeth was uptight and reserved. They’d dated for nearly a year—the longest romantic relationship of Clarke’s life—and yet, Audrey hadn’t been surprised in the least when Elizabeth had taken a job in DC and Clarke had opted to stay behind.
But seeing the way Elizabeth looked at Clarke just a little too long, her assessment of Audrey just a bit too calculating, Audrey was betting Elizabeth had plans for Clarke that did not involve him walking down the aisle with Audrey.
“Yes, the ring is lovely,” Linda said with a dismissive glance, handing Clarke and Audrey champagne flutes. “And don’t worry, dear, I’m sure if you change your mind and want something different, you can get a full refund, am I right?”
“Ah—”
“Exchange,” Clarke interrupted. “I think that’s the word you wanted. Not refund.”
Audrey looked up at Clarke, unsurprised to see the tension in his jaw as he engaged in a staring contest with is mother.
“Of course,” Linda murmured. “Alton, grab those other champagne flutes. We need to toast your new daughter-in-law.”
Clarke’s father joined them, giving Audrey an absent peck on the cheek that, while hardly affectionate, at least had less chill than his wife’s greeting.
Clarke didn’t get along with his father much more than he did his mother, but Audrey had never felt as wary of Alton as she did Linda. The man was distant, to be sure, and he let his wife order him around far more than Audrey would have expected for a powerful CEO. She’d never quite been able to crack the man’s aloof surface, but she didn’t think it was personal, merely a function of him inheriting an enormous company that had been passed down in his family ever since the company’s earliest days as a railroad production. It had evolved into advertising for railroads, then advertising for all things transportation, then just advertising, until it eventually became the ginormous media conglomerate it was today. In other words, the man had a lot on his plate and always seemed more distracted than vindictive. Unlike Linda, who never missed a single detail.
Audrey knew Linda’s use of the word refund hadn’t been a slip of the tongue at all.
Annoyingly, Linda was also dead right about Audrey’s intentions with the ring. Audrey had made sure, before Clarke put his credit card down, that they could, in fact, get a full refund on the ring when they ended this next week.
Audrey had half planned on ending it today. But then Clarke’s mom had invited them to dinner to “discuss the development,” and Clarke had been just annoyed enough with his mother to rise to the bait and carry on the charade for one more night.
“Congratulations, son,” Alton said, lifting his glass. “We’re so happy you two kids finally decided to quit with that best friend nonsense.”
Audrey pressed her lips together to keep from protesting that their friendship wasn’t nonsense. That the fact that they’d been best friends since they were children showed that boys and girls could be friends.
And that men and women could be, too.
Clarke’s fingers dug slightly into her hip, reminding her of
the plan, and she played her part, winding an arm around his waist and beaming up at him. “Me, too. I don’t know what took me so long to see that he’s the one, but I’m glad I finally woke up.”
The smoldering look Clarke gave her in return caused her breath to hitch just for a second and made her think the man had seriously missed his calling—that was some Oscar-level acting right there.
“So,” Elizabeth asked, after the five of them had clinked glasses, “have you two set a date yet?”
“Oh, no, not yet,” Audrey said, keeping the details vague, the way she had been all week. “We’re just enjoying being engaged for a while.”
“But of course, you’ll be having an engagement party?” Linda pressed.
“Oh, we hadn’t really—”
“Of course,” Clarke interrupted.
This time it was Audrey who dug her nails into him. He shifted slightly beside her in discomfort but didn’t back down.
“Well, I’d love to help with that,” Linda said, the enthusiasm in her voice veiled ever so slightly with mockery. “In fact, I called Audrey’s parents just this afternoon to see if they might be able to fly out next weekend for a party. My treat.”
Audrey released Clarke to reach up and scratch behind her ear. Damn. The woman was good. She’d neatly and effectively called their bluff.
Ah, well. They’d had a good run. Time to concede gracefully.
She glanced up at Clarke to see how he wanted to handle the extraction from the mess they’d gotten themselves into. If he wasn’t ready, she had a whole arsenal of ways she’d planned to get them out of their little game.
Actually, Clarke and I have been worried we might have been a bit hasty…
We’ve realized that maybe we really are better off as just friends…
We have a few things to work out regarding our future…
Personally, Audrey thought the first one was the best, and it was what she planned to announce on Instagram next week, when she went back to her regularly scheduled posts of lipstick recommendations and her latest skin-care regime.
She wasn’t worried about it. If celebrities could get engaged and disengaged within the span of a month, then a pseudo-celebrity like herself could certainly do it in the span of a week.
But instead of getting the hell out of this mess, Clarke merely gave one of his trademark easy smiles.
“We’d love that. Thanks, Mom.” He glanced down at Audrey. “Wouldn’t we, Dree?”
What. The. Hell?
Wearing a pretend engagement ring for a week was one thing. Having an engagement party was an entirely different ball game.
But friends didn’t let friends get trolled by smarmy Instagram jerks, and friends didn’t leave friends to face manipulative mothers and scheming exes alone.
She looked up and found him studying her, his gaze thoughtful and a little pleading.
Audrey withheld a sigh. She would do just about anything for him. And he knew it.
She turned toward Clarke’s mom with her warmest smile. “Absolutely. What date are you thinking?”
Chapter Four
SATURDAY, JANUARY 18
Big decisions for the big night! Louboutins or killer Stuart Weitzman boots? Help! Comment below with your vote! ♥
—@TheAudreyTate
The ankle-wrap Louboutin stilettos had won the vote, but Audrey still tilted her head back and forth in indecision.
The Loubs were darling and more bridal, definitely. But the thigh-high dove-gray Weitzmans, or Stuies, as she called them, were more practical given the forecast’s call for a “wintry mix” tonight.
She made a mental note that when she got engaged for real someday, she’d time it so that her engagement party didn’t fall in the middle of winter. Then, remembering just as quickly her resolution that marriage wasn’t in the cards for her, she reached for the Louboutins.
If she only got to do this once, she was doing it right.
Her feet would be cold, but cute.
Pulling them on, she grabbed the white satin clutch she’d splurged on for the occasion. It perfectly matched the strapless white cocktail dress she’d also splurged on. After all, if one was “getting married” for show, why not put on one hell of a show?
Audrey retrieved her cell phone from the charger and was just about to slide it into the clutch when it buzzed with an incoming call. She did a double take at the name on the screen, then swiftly answered. “Anderson?”
“Little sister. You sound surprised.”
“Only because you’re the king of butt dials.”
“One of my students showed me how to lock my phone when it’s in my pocket.”
“I’m so proud,” she said with a fond smile as she went to her jewelry box. A necklace would ruin the neckline of the dress, but a simple bracelet would be perfect. “So what’s new?”
“Well, let’s see,” he mused. “I got my hair cut. My favorite cereal brand changed the box, and I don’t like it. Oh, and my youngest sister got engaged.”
Audrey froze in the process of holding up a rose-gold bangle she’d gotten from Naomi. She didn’t bother to hide the horror from her voice. “Oh, Anderson. It’s not what you think.”
“That you didn’t bother to tell me the news?”
“No. I mean, yes.” She dropped the bracelet and put a hand over her heart to ease the guilty squeeze in her chest. “Sort of. It’s complicated?”
Damn. Her brother thought she was getting married and hadn’t told him.
She and Anderson weren’t close in age. At thirty-six, he was seven years her senior. The fact that he was a legitimate genius and had skipped a grade in school had widened the gap even further when they were growing up.
Add in that he lived in Seattle, and thus a different time zone, as well as that he was a biology professor at the University of Washington, and they didn’t exactly have a lot in common. But that didn’t mean she didn’t love him to death, and he absolutely should have heard about her “engagement” from her. The worst part was, it hadn’t even occurred to her to call him or that he’d even find out. Anderson had long ago left behind the New York social scene for West Coast academia.
An actual engagement he’d want to know about because he loved her. A fake engagement would go right over his brilliant head.
“How’d you find out?” she asked curiously.
“Instagram,” he admitted.
She let out a startled laugh. “Seriously?”
“It’s new,” he grumbled. “Figured I would try to follow your world. Didn’t realize just how enlightening it would be.”
“Anderson, I am so sorry. But it’s not what you think.”
“You and Clarke aren’t finally tying the knot?”
“No! Wait, what do you mean finally?”
He snorted. “I may be the family nerd, but I do have some social skills. Even I knew it was only a matter of time.”
“Well, you’re not so smart about everything,” she said. “It’s a fake engagement.”
“A what now?” he asked, sounding completely at a loss, as expected.
“Short version, some social media troll somehow managed to accuse me of being a man-eater, a home wrecker, and a pathetic spinster all in the span of a handful of posts.”
“And?”
“And, my skin wasn’t as thick as it should have been,” she admitted. “I got tired of the hundreds of comments rolling in about how I’d never posted about a boyfriend on social media, and I just… wanted to prove them wrong.”
“Huh.”
“It sounds stupid,” she admitted.
“No,” he said slowly. “I may be new to following you on Instagram, but even I can grasp that the Audrey Tate can’t so much as fart without thousands of people knowing about it and having an opinion.”
“Anderson. Girls never fart. I thought Adele and I taught you that early on.”
He laughed. “You know what I mean. I can understand the need to self-protect. But… getting married?”
“Pretending to get married,” she clarified quickly. “We’re calling it off after the engagement party tonight.”
“Audrey,” he said with a laugh.
“I know,” she said, laughing along with him. “Trust me, I know. It’s insane. But because you love me, and because I’m vulnerable, can I ask for a week’s delay on the lecture?”
He sighed. “I won’t lecture. And, I guess… well, as always, I’m thankful for Clarke. He takes care of you in ways I can’t.”
“That’s not true,” she said loyally.
It was a little true. Anderson had been a good big brother, but the age difference meant that their childhoods hadn’t overlapped much, much less their school lives. Even if they had, Anderson had been the lanky, nose-in-a-book teen who’d warranted social issues of his own. He’d hardly been the type of brother you could flaunt in front of your bullies and say, “My brother will beat you up.”
Not that Audrey had had many social problems aside from the occasional playground bully and high school mean girl. But to her brother’s point, maybe the reason her life had been relatively smooth sailing, save the Brayden incident, was because of Clarke. He’d always been her fiercest defender, her most loyal companion. Armed with good looks, ample confidence, and way too much charm, he’d been able to talk his way out of anything, both on his behalf and Audrey’s.
“It is true,” Anderson said gently, reading her thoughts. “But I appreciate that you’ll still let me pretend to be your big brother.”
“You are my big brother, and I am sorry I didn’t tell you about my plan. And that you had to hear about it from Instagram, of all things. I should have told you when I told Mom and Dad.”
“Oh God.” He laughed. “I bet Mom is loving it.”
“I think she was more excited about us all being in on a charade together than she would be if it were an actual wedding.”
“Well, she does like to remind us about her acting aspirations. We can’t go a single Christmas without hearing about her starring role in her high school’s Hello, Dolly!”
“Annie Get Your Gun.”
“Whatever.”