Her Best Friend Fake Fiancé

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Her Best Friend Fake Fiancé Page 5

by Kimberly Krey


  Betzy: Just curious, are you coming home for the holidays?

  Sawyer: Who’s asking? Is this an admirer? He smiled as he waited for her response.

  Betzy: Definitely.

  Warmth stirred low in his belly. It was that same baited hook she lured him with every time.

  Sawyer: What kind of admirer are you? Semi-interested or scary-interested?

  Betzy: Somewhere in between.

  Sawyer: What I’m asking is, will I be needing a bodyguard?

  When her reply didn’t come right away, he hurried down the stairs, snatched the jar of iced tea off the counter, and headed back to the table. A quick look at Mom said she was on her phone too.

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m going back and forth with Betzy.” It was a cheap trick throwing her name out there, but since Mom liked Betzy, he knew she’d forgive him.

  “No problem,” she said, tapping on her screen with a grin. She set it facedown on the table, but it took a moment for her to shift her gaze away from it.

  She’s dating someone. It wasn’t just a question in his head. It was more of a realization.

  His own phone buzzed, and he glanced down to see her reply.

  Betzy: Sawyer, you’re not afraid of me, are you?

  He stared at the screen for a beat. Then he typed out an honest reply.

  Sawyer: Sometimes.

  Betzy: Then I promise to be gentle. No bodyguard needed.

  More belly heat. Promise to be gentle? And for what? Was she asking him to meet up someplace? Maybe this really would be his year. Their year.

  “Is that still Betzy you’re talking to?” his mom asked from across the table.

  “Uh, yeah,” he mumbled.

  “Tell her hi for me, will you?”

  Sawyer glanced up to see that Mom was on her phone again too. The sun was starting to set now. The brilliant tones of red and gold bounced off the surface of the lake. That might be what caused his mother’s face to blush. But he was pretty sure it had more to do with whomever she was texting.

  “Why don’t you tell…the guy you’re texting right now hi from me too.”

  She shot him a look with wide eyes, and then her face softened. “It’s Ted. You know the guy who owns the gym?”

  If Sawyer were honest, he was only halfway invested in the conversation. Voices were screaming someplace in his head that he might just be going on a date with Betzy in the next week or so. “Ted?” he repeated. “From the gym?”

  “Yeah,” she said, setting her phone down once more. “We’re kind of dating, I guess you’d say. I kept meaning to tell you but I worried I might jinx it.”

  “That’s nice,” he said with a nod. “He must be something special if he managed to pull you back into the dating world after all this time.”

  “He’s pretty great,” she said with a smile. “Did you let Daisy know when you were coming into town?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’m just asking because she stopped by the house to personally deliver a few copies of your magazine. She was asking, but I told her I wasn’t sure.”

  He let out a sigh. “Thank you.”

  She grinned. “Go ahead and answer Betzy. Then we’ll leave our phones alone until we’re done eating.”

  “Sounds good.” But an idea was forming in his mind. An admittedly juvenile idea to make Betzy a little more anxious to get together. She never had liked Daisy very much. Especially when he’d been dating her back in high school.

  Sawyer: You know, Daisy’s been asking to get together as well. What do you think—bodyguard or no bodyguard for that one?

  Dots bounced along his screen, letting him know she was tapping out a reply right then.

  Betzy: Definitely get a bodyguard for that one. But don’t worry, I volunteer for the job. Free of charge.

  Sawyer covered a laugh. He missed this. Missed goading Betzy into comments like that. Missed the idea of seeing her at a moment’s notice. Soon he’d write her back, set up a time to get together.

  For now, he’d work on coming up with a plan. Now that he’d made a name for himself. Now that he was ready to come home and pursue the life he’d really dreamt of. And now that Betzy seemed, at least in some ways, open to the idea, what was the best way to win the heart of Miss Betzy Benton—the girl who’d stolen his heart so long ago?

  Chapter 5

  Betzy flung back the covers, plopped into bed, and read back through the texts she and Sawyer exchanged beneath the lamplight’s glow.

  She’d made it clear that she wanted to get together, so why wasn’t he picking up where she left off and planning something? He usually did. At least something simple like meeting up for a drink.

  What, now she’d have to be the one to do it?

  An ache sank into her heart like a sharp, heavy stone. She’d gotten her hopes up again, hadn’t she? No matter how many times Betzy tried to shed the idea that she and Sawyer were somehow written in the stars, her rubber band hope would spring right back into place with a resilient snap.

  He’s still single. There’s still hope. Maybe he’s waiting for you too. Maybe he, like you, compared every kiss he’s had with the one he shared with you. Even the kiss you saw back on New Year’s Day.

  The truth was, today had been filled with triggers. Triggers that pushed her fear to new limits. Would she really spend the years of her life alone? Her and her money and her cats. She hated cats. And she hated Daisy too.

  Stop, Betzy. You dislike her. You don’t hate her.

  But that was just it. Everything seemed to come so easy to girls like Daisy. That girl could flirt with a telephone pole and get it to uproot and step aside for her.

  Betzy hadn’t been so confident. Sure, in the ways of business she knew exactly what she was doing. She’d been trained well, and had gained plenty of wisdom through experience too. But with men…that was a different story.

  Think about it, Betzy, he’s not into you. You’re like the nerdy little girl he might have liked back in grade school. And now here he was, getting named one of the country’s top bachelors for the second year in a row, and that’s what he’s interested in?

  He’d probably just given her some sort of pity kiss before he left. It might not have reflected his feelings at all.

  The fear grew heavier in her chest. Pushing, swelling, aching. Betzy tried to inhale a calming breath, but parts of that pointed headline popped into her mind, spiking her pulse instead. Women destined to hold onto their money while men slip through their fingers.

  Betzy could guess at a few reasons wealthy women wound up alone, but that didn’t mean they applied to her.

  A groan sounded low in her throat as Betzy sank deeper into the pillows. She’d only barely just set her phone down, but already it was buzzing anew.

  Please be Sawyer.

  The inward plea was silenced as Betzy saw it was Grandma calling.

  “Hello?” Her attempt to put cheer into her voice failed.

  “How are you doing, Hon?” Leave it to Grandma to know how much Betzy needed a kind voice.

  “Crappy.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. We’ve got you lined up for five live appearances over the week following the Slipper’s release.”

  Betzy plunked the side of her face into her pillow and sighed. “That’s good,” she said through smooshed lips. “Guess that’s how I get to spend my Christmas break. Really great.”

  “Sweetie?”

  “Mm hmm?” The hot sting of tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

  “Is something else bothering you?”

  Yes, she wanted to say. I’m worried that I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. That I’ve been waiting for Sawyer this whole time and he doesn’t even want me. I’m worried that I missed my chance. I’m scared that maybe there never really was a chance. I worry that my mom was right all along.

  She sniffed. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “Yeah,” Grandma said. “It’s been a long day. You know, if your dad were here, he’d
march right into Slipper headquarters and demand they remove your name from that article.” She laughed, and Betzy did too.

  “You’re right.” Tears dripped down her temple and onto the sheet. Mom might have bonded best with her brothers, but Betzy was a Daddy’s girl all the way. And even though it’d been close to six years now, she hadn’t stopped missing him.

  “I have one more possible contact at the magazine,” Grandma said. “They’re working to get a snapshot of the actual spread.”

  Betzy sprung up like a jack in the box. “Of the spinster article? We might be able to see it before it comes out?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “It’s sticky. This source—whomever it is—would be risking a lot. Not just their job, but there’s liability too. Slipper Magazine could slap them with a hefty lawsuit for leaking information.”

  Betzy nodded, imagining how nice it would be to know exactly what to expect. Nausea accompanied the thoughts, of course. She hated the idea that she’d be forced to defend herself.

  But ugliness like that shouldn’t be tolerated, and if Betzy was going to be slammed unfairly in some stupid magazine owned by the spiteful little Daisy Shay, she wouldn’t lay down and take it.

  “Get some sleep, sweetheart, okay? Tomorrow’s another day.”

  “I’ll try. Goodnight, Grandma. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  Betzy sank back into place, hoping to shut her mind off and get some rest.

  But sleep didn’t come easy. At one a.m. she woke from a horrible dream where she’d lost control on live TV and slapped Daisy right across the face. It hadn’t seemed so impossible, if she thought about it. Heck, her brother, James, who was as well-tempered as they came, lashed out at a contestant during their last live broadcast.

  She played word games on her phone to get her mind off of the dream, and finally dozed off somewhere past two, but by three o’clock she was up again, grumbling one defense after the next. Think I’m destined to be alone my whole life, do you? Maybe you’re the one who’ll wind up alone, Daisy Shay.

  At four a.m., Betzy pulled up a sleep app and put on some white noise. Maybe that would help drown out the sounds in her head.

  It must have, because suddenly it was six o’clock and her alarm was sounding. She tapped the snooze option and lay back in place.

  Suddenly her phone let out an odd ding. One she didn’t recognize. Betzy snuck an arm from the covers, snatched her phone off the side table, and looked at the screen.

  Message from unknown number.

  Two options were listed below. Receive. Reject.

  A furrow creased Betzy’s brow. “Hmm.” She tapped the receive button, and watched as a text box appeared.

  The following message will dissolve in five seconds. Do not attempt to photograph the image or the data in your phone will dissolve as well.

  A spark of excitement flared within her as an image appeared. It was the article. The entire spread filled the screen. To the left, the headline matched the teaser she’d read. She scanned her eyes quickly over the traits of the well known, wealthy women who’d never married. And then came the horror on the right half of the open fold. A photo of Betzy filled a quarter of the page. And there, listed beneath, were bullet points. She read aloud in a frantic rush, trying to catch it all, but there was no way.

  “Buying a home versus renting a penthouse. Stocking up on sports cars as a ploy to attract men. Preying on men who feel indebted to her. Naming her plants.” Her face scrunched up. “Whatever.” She’d named one plant and that was when she was dating Marcus and already the poor thing had died.

  Quickly, Betzy moved down the next line. “Refusing to give up the wheel. Refusing to give it up in bed?”

  A heated gasp tore from her throat. Already the sight was disintegrating before her very eyes. She tried piecing the pixels of the next line together as they grew dimmer, dimmer, gone.

  The screen went black.

  That was it. Someone had done her a favor. Anonymously given her a peek of the horrible article, and it was so much worse than she’d imagined.

  “That witch!” Only that might not have been what she said. The notebook in her bedside drawer became her canvas. In a frantic rush, Betzy sketched out everything she recalled in the layout, scribbling in words that stood out to her as well.

  She stared at the page with her sleep-deprived eyes while everything in her mind shifted. Goodbye, high road. Hello, desperate measures. Maybe Camila and Rachel were onto something. And heck, even if Sawyer didn’t feel the same way about Betzy, he did care for her. Deeply. She was sure about that.

  Slipper would release its next issue just before Christmas, so she didn’t have much time to make magic happen.

  Betzy tossed the pen and fished for the bright, red sharpie. Next, she flipped the page of her notepad and created a big box in the center of the page.

  #1 Ask Sawyer to propose to me.

  #2 Plan public appearance to create a buzz

  She paused there and stared at the page. A flicker of reservation pierced through her resolve. Grandma was like a walking lie detector. And never, in a million years, would she go along with something like this. Betzy scribbled the next item on the list.

  #3 Convince Grandma Lo that it’s real.

  But how? They’d have to spend some time with her. Enough to really convince her they were in love.

  “The cabin,” Betzy blurted as it came to her. “I’ll take him on the family trip.” She added that to the list.

  #4 Take Sawyer to the cabin.

  #5 Sawyer proposes the day before the issue releases.

  She stopped again. This had to be big. Very big.

  Camila had mentioned the Christmas edition of the Lion’s Den. That might just be the perfect place.

  #6 Flaunt diamond ring in Daisy’s miserable face as she shrinks away in shame.

  #7 Sawyer goes back to NY. We keep up the charade through the winter and have a fake breakup in the spring.

  Shoulders easing just a little, Betzy reread the steps. “There. Start this off right with a plan of attack, just like any successful venture.”

  The adrenaline pulsing through her could fuel a jet plane across the country and back. But something about it felt good. Better than the despair she’d been swimming in for who knew how long?

  She snatched her phone, pulled up Sawyer’s number, and sent him a text. Betzy would take things into her own hands once more. Only this time she wouldn’t feel vulnerable or exposed, desperate to have him like her in return or at least let her down easy if he didn’t.

  Now, Betzy felt safe. If he said no, he’d only be rejecting the plan, not her. But she didn’t think he’d reject it. She only needed him to pretend to like her.

  He could do that. And for whatever reason, she felt very sure that he would.

  Still, in case he didn’t… Betzy snatched the sharpie once more, tore off the lid, and added one small detail along the bottom of the page. Get someone else if Sawyer says no.

  Chapter 6

  Sawyer wiped the sleep from his eyes as his phone dinged from the side table.

  With a wide yawn, he stretched an arm beyond the warmth of the covers, grabbed the device, and tried to focus on the screen through squinted eyes. The name on top had him seeing clearly in a blink.

  Betzy: I really need to talk to you. Mind meeting me at the clubhouse today?

  He might have been half-asleep two seconds ago, but Betzy’s text was a double shot of espresso. She didn’t have to specify which clubhouse. In LA, the place to be was the Benton Brother’s Clubhouse.

  Sawyer: I don’t mind at all.

  Understatement. His phone dinged again.

  Betzy: Great. 12:00 lunch in private cabana #3. See you then?

  Sawyer typed out a reply. You said private. Does that mean clothes are optional?

  Betzy: You can come however you’d like. Just don’t expect me to be naked.

  Hmm. She didn’t take the bait. Normally, Betzy was mo
re…flirtatious. He was just playing after all.

  Sawyer: Fine. Then don’t expect me to be naked either. I’ll be the one in the turtleneck.

  He waited for her reply. Maybe a laugh-cry face or an LOL.

  Nothing.

  A dose of irritation pushed through him. He shoved off the blankets, flipped onto his back, and stared up at the ceiling. What exactly did Betzy have in mind—some sort of business venture?

  He hoped not.

  A tap came to his door.

  “Come in,” he hollered.

  The door creaked open, and his mom peeked in.

  “Hey, you. How’d you sleep?”

  “Awesome,” he said. “I’m not used to hearing crickets at night. I love it.”

  She grinned. “Want to come to the gym with me?”

  It was that moment Sawyer remembered that Mom was dating someone. “Will Ted be there?” he asked, lifting his head off the pillow.

  Mom held his gaze for a blink, then grinned. “Yes…”

  “Can I arm wrestle him? If he loses, he can’t date you.”

  “He won’t lose.”

  “Tsk.” Sawyer shook his head. “I’m buff, Mom.” He flexed to prove it.

  “Yeah, but he owns the gym. And he lifts, like, ten times a day.”

  “You’re dating a meat head?”

  At once she hurried into the room toward the bench at the foot of the bed. He wasn’t sure why until she picked up a throw pillow and tossed it at him.

  “Mom…” he said, shielding his face.

  “Take it back,” she said with a laugh, “or I’ll throw another one at you.” Sawyer put his hand down, prepared to amend his statement when a black and white pillow slammed right into his nose.

  “Ma! When did you become so violent?”

  She was laughing now. And tossing more pillows too. “ He’s not a meat head. Make the bed behind you, will you? There’s oatmeal on the stove if you’d like some.”

  “So you’re leaving without me?”

  She stopped at the doorway and spun around. “You do want to come?”

  Sawyer pictured running through the neighborhood. The fresh breeze, uncrowded walkways, and air that smelled…like home. “I think I’ll go running today instead. And do squats. And lift those barrels in the backyard over my head and grunt like a gladiator.”

 

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