Page 6 of Contingently Yours
When it starts to sound like everyone agrees to leave at the end of next week, I feel a panic bubble in my chest expand.
I’m supposed to get my fitting done for the girls’ wedding that day.
Maybe I can ask them to move it up or back.
We’ve planned to be gone for four weeks because the Hepperlys apparently want to relax at a few of the viewing locations, and they have a three-day stopover in the middle of the trip in Boston at Keenan’s mother’s house.
Lou wasn’t kidding about them doubling this as their honeymoon.
I’m going to have to try to coordinate the band’s playlist and handle all the other wedding tasks for Jolissa and Julia that I promised to deal with from abroad.
I’m already feeling the squeeze, and this giant lie on top of everything has my stomach in knots.
The slap of palms snaps my attention back to the present. Chairs start to screech against the floor, and the Hepperlys rise along with Andrew.
“All right then! This is happening,” he declares, reaching out to shake their hands. “Honeymoon for five!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. They’re laughing…actually laughing. They love him already. How is that possible? Worse yet, I think this means I officially have to pretend to like him.
After the Hepperlys make their way out of the building with well wishes from us and Vera.
I wait for Andrew to exchange his quirky pleasantries with his aunt.
I like Vera too much to drop the bomb on her that he just crafted in the conference room.
We need to have words in private for this disaster waiting to happen.
I see no way out of it without completely pissing off this poor throuple and Lou.
Damn it. This is a nightmare. Fifty percent, but still a nightmare.
Giving his aunt’s cheek a kiss, he breezes out the door without further notice.
The amount of dust on his office computer tells me how much planning he puts into his showings, but I suspect his retreat isn’t due to laziness this time.
No doubt he’s scampering away before he has to talk to Lou.
When or if Lou finds out about what he just pulled, I can only imagine the old man will have a coronary.
Giving a quick farewell to Vera, I hurry outside. He’s halfway across the parking lot already, the idiot. Already acting like I don’t exist. How in the hell are we supposed to pretend to be a couple if he just left me high and dry? The Hepperlys could be driving around the corner for all we know.
“Andrew!” I call out, but he doesn’t stop. “Andrew!”
Stopping, his head falls back like the sound of my voice is exasperating. Wonderful. So much for his promise to Lou that our differences were behind us. He’s probably going to accidentally, on purpose, forget me at one of the properties, a remote island, no less. I can see it now.
“What?” he asks, sounding bored.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Glancing over my shoulder to make sure Lou hasn’t come outside, I add, “How are we going to fix this? They think we’re an actual couple.”
A puff of laughter. A grin. Stepping forward, he pats my stubble. “There’s no fixing anything Sweetcheeks. Did you see how they lit up when they thought we were an item? I saw an opening, and I took it. We’re in like Flynn. You’re welcome.”
Batting his hand away, I glower at him. “First off, that’s dishonest.” He snorts and rolls his eyes.
“Second, we don’t even like each other and your first instinct was to tell them we’re a couple?
It was already going to be difficult enough to pretend not to hate each other for weeks on end, but now we’re going to have to act like… like…”
“Like what?”
“Like we’re…into each other.”
Frowning, he folds his arms. “Wait. You’re not homophobic, are you?”
What? Why would he think that? Just because I don’t like having any conversation with him doesn’t mean I’m homophobic. I actually get along with men far better than I’ve ever related to women, aside from my mom and sisters. I am not the problem here.
“No, but I’ve seen the way you flirt with female clients, and what about that Veronica lady that comes in sometimes to go out for drinks with you?”
His hand bats the air dismissively. “These aren’t female clients, so no issue there, and Veronica’s just a friend.” Stretching out his arms, he grins, “Don’t worry. I’m all yours, lover.”
Ugh. He’s impossible. This shit is not going to fly for weeks on end.
“You heard what your uncle said. We’re going to have to play a part and be with them the entire time. And now, no thanks to you, that means we’re going to have to act like a couple of happily paired gay guys 24/7 when nothing about you says gay .”
“Oh my God. Would you listen to yourself? Do you think gay people are any different from everyone else? I literally just convinced three people that we’re in love.”
I’ve honestly never known any gay men, but he’s completely misconstruing the point. He’s a playboy who can’t keep his tongue in his mouth when a pretty woman walks by. “For an hour, not three to four weeks,” I digress.
“Just calm your tits. Don’t argue with me in front of them and try not to look like you want to cut out my liver until this thing goes contingent, and we’ll both walk away happy, richer men,” he says like he has complete faith in his own bullshit.
I purse my lips, thinking of all the things I want to say, but I know there is no talking sense to him. I have a temporary boyfriend whom I can’t stand, but if I don’t murder him, I’ll be able to pay off my loans and the girls’ wedding.
He holds out his hand, and I scoff in disbelief at the fragile peace offering. I nod and grip it, but can’t hold back the words that leave my mouth. “I hate you.”
“Not as much as I hate you.”