Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
I looked over at Pippa, wondering what was really behind all of this. Pippa glanced over at us and I glanced away, not wanting her to think we were talking about her. In looking away from her, I found myself staring into Rafe’s eyes.
His face was close.
Too close.
Or just close enough, depending on how you looked at it.
His eyes searched mine and I ignored the blood rushing in my ears as I closed the distance between us and gently brushed my lips over his.
My mouth tingled from the brief touch as I pulled away.
Rafe scowled hard at my mouth . . . but I honestly wasn’t sure if it was because I’d kissed him or because I’d barely kissed him. “What was that?” His voice was rough.
I shrugged and lied. “Just playing my part.”
A loud banging made me jerk in my seat and I turned toward the front of the ballroom, where a small stage was set up. Jen stood in front of a lectern with a gavel in her hand. “Honored guests, it’s time for the auction to begin.”
Nice timing, I thought, as the auction distracted us from the barely-there kiss that somehow, despite its barely-there status, haunted my lips more than any kiss ever had.
Chapter Twelve
Let me know whenever you’re in the city and I’ll come meet you for coffee. Gxx
I stared at the text from Gigi, chewing on my lip in thought. After another Sunday dinner with Rafe’s family, I’d exchanged numbers with his little sister. Rafe was right. She and I got along great despite our vastly different upbringings. She was disarming and lacking in all pretension. I liked her a lot. But I also felt horrible pursuing a friendship with her when she falsely thought I was her brother’s girlfriend.
I’d said so to Rafe as we left his parents’ house for the city.
“Oh.” He’d frowned. “I thought I told you. Gigi knows the truth.”
“About our deal?”
He’d nodded with a shrug, eyes on the road. “If anyone understands why I’m doing this, it’s my little sister. And she was all excited about our so-called relationship and since she’s the one person in my family who just wants me to be happy, no matter what, I couldn’t lie to her. This whole thing is harder than I’d thought it would be.”
“I wish you’d told me.”
“I have now, and if Gigi wants a genuine friendship with you, there’s no rule saying you can’t pursue that.”
Except that I wasn’t a casual, fair-weather type of friend. If I decided someone was in my life, they were in my life through the good and bad. Wouldn’t it be weird maintaining a friendship with Gigi once this whole thing with Rafe was over? Shouldn’t I keep her at a distance?
The problem was, these two Whitmans were getting under my skin.
The more I spent time with Rafe’s family, the guiltier I felt. Jen had warmed up to me again at dinner, and even Greg was a little more loquacious this time around. Hugo wasn’t there, but Pippa and Charmaine were.
The deeper I got in with Rafe’s family, the worse my remorse was going to be. While I’d thought Rafe an unfeeling moody bastard the first few weeks I’d known him, I now suspected that Rafe actually felt things more deeply than most people and that was his problem. The longer this went on, the greater his guilt would grow too.
Yet Gigi knew the truth and understood it, so . . . maybe there was no harm in being friends?
I have a line-sitting job on Tuesday that should only last a couple of hours. Text you when I’m done?
Gigi responded with a bunch of celebratory emojis and Can’t wait!
She was kind of adorable.
* * *
• • •
It was an unseasonably hot June morning and I swear there was a pool of sweat underneath my wig as I hurried down the street toward the subway from what had been the job from hell. I was a sunshine-and-roses kind of person, but even I didn’t know how to handle a four-year-old who screamed bloody murder every time I got near her.
People in New York were used to seeing all kinds of things walk past them, so no one blinked an eye at the woman in the brown wig and gold Belle dress. Yes, I had been hired for a four-year-old’s birthday party to host it as Belle from Beauty and the Beast because it was the four-year-old’s favorite movie. After that experience, however, I was thinking it was not the four-year-old’s favorite movie but the four-year-old’s mom’s favorite movie.
That kid was terrified of me from the moment I walked in dressed in costume.
It wasn’t like I hadn’t experienced kids crying before.
My theory was that those kids instinctually knew they were being lied to, and their little warning instincts were telling them to run for cover. There was nothing wrong with that. Good instincts to have. But I’d never had a child scream until she almost passed out. Every time I told her mom that I should leave because I was distressing her kid (and eventually all the other kids), the mom got angry and belligerent.