Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“You knew I was married,” I point out.
“Sure, sure, technically. But I guess I always let myself think of the guy as imaginary. But Char, seriously. The shoes. They’re hurting my eyes.”
Poor Kurt. I’m not all that surprised that he put my outdated Blahniks in the same category as my relocation and my fake husband. I consider myself passionate about fashion. I know what’s in, what’s out; I know who’s in and who’s out. But Kurt Lovejoy (Kurt’s his real name; Lovejoy was acquired because his given name of Kurt Ross didn’t match his brand) takes the obsession to a whole new level.
“I’m jealous, you know.”
“Of the shoes?” I ask, lifting my head and looking over at him.
“God, no. I mean, I get what you were going for. The red’s a nice pop with the halter, but sweetie, round toes haven’t been in for ages.”
“Cut me some slack,” I say, pulling a protein bar from my desk drawer and tossing it in the trash, since I’m pretty sure the health food company who made it went out of business a year ago. “I’ve already packed up most of the stuff in my condo and forgot to set out work clothes. I had to dig through the Goodwill pile for shoes to wear today.”
Kurt makes a pouty motion with his lips and crosses his arms. “When do you leave? Why do you leave?”
Deciding my desk is full of nothing but coffee-stained notepads and cheap pens, I shut the drawers and stand to face my assistant. Kurt has a full seven inches on five-foot-five me, and I know for a fact our weights are roughly the same. He’s got that sort of skinny, angular waif look that begs to be paired with long scarves and skinny ties, and Kurt delivers on both fronts frequently.
“You know you can come with me,” I say, waggling my eyebrows enticingly. “You and New York’s fashion scene could be soul mates.”
“Don’t I know it,” he says with a dramatic sigh. “Unfortunately, my other soul mate just made partner at a law firm here. Damn our respective pesky lawyer husbands keeping us apart.”
Kurt makes a face, but I know he’s as proud of his husband Lewis as he is in love. They’ve been together for nine years, two years longer than Kurt’s been with me, so I don’t begrudge his loyalty. Plus, while I’d love to have some moral support as I wade into unchartered Manhattan waters, I’m relieved to have Kurt here in my absence. Granted, most of my work is done via laptop, and I trust my carefully selected C-team to make the right decisions. But it’ll be nice to have someone give me the unfiltered version of what’s actually happening on the ground if I’m ever unavailable because of the pesky time difference.
Or like, say, because I’m in jail for getting in a brawl with my brother for landing me in this mess in the first place.
Oh, what, you thought I wasn’t going to mention it? You thought maybe I was in denial about this whole debacle?
I only wish I were in denial. I only wish I could forget about the fact that I’m about to move to New York City in order to move in with a husband I haven’t seen in ten years, all so I can divorce that same husband.
“Is he delicious?” Kurt asks, leaning forward, whispering unnecessarily since we’re the only ones in the office. “Is that why you’re leaving me?”
Wordlessly, I reach for my cell phone and pull up the proof. Some things are better shown than told, even if it’s the grainy, too-dark photo I’d snuck as Colin had paid the bill on that fateful night.
Kurt makes a purring noise. “Oh, my. Oh, definitely delicious.”
I shrug.
He lowers the phone and gives me a flabbergasted look. “He’s hotter than anything I’ve seen in recent history, my own spouse excluded. Why are we divorcing him again?”
“Because I barely even know him,” I say.
“What if you get …” He lowers his voice. “Investigated?”
I glance over my shoulder, then, to play it safe, I shut the office door. “You mean, how am I not in hot water for marriage fraud?”
He shrugs. “I’ve seen The Proposal.”
I smile. “It’s like I’ve told you before, it really isn’t like that. Or at least, it wasn’t for us. Thanks to my brother doing his homework, we aced the interview.”
Kurt’s blue eyes go wide. “Interview? How am I just now getting the full story on this?”
“Not as scary as it sounds. We just had to prove that we’d known each other for a while. It helped that he’d spent holidays at my house in the past and we had a couple of photos to prove it. Wasn’t hard to convince them that it was the age-old story of the pesky younger sister falling in love with her older brother’s hunky best friend.”