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)
Colin flinches. “I may have let that rumor percolate. Deliberately.”
“Really?” I ask, fascinated. “Why?”
“To avoid suspicion over the motives of our marriage. My accent’s faded over the years, but there’s still no mistaking that I’m not from around here. The possibility that we’d marry for the sake of my green card isn’t a huge leap to make.”
“True. Though, I disagree on the accent. It’s faded a little, but it’s still very much there. And, for what it’s worth, it’s the one thing you had going on back then.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, the beard and bun thing didn’t work for me when we got married, and I thought you were super nerdy, but even I could admit that the accent caused a few flutters.” I glare down at my glass, realizing it’s making me admit things I probably shouldn’t. “Damn you, wine.”
“Very deep thoughts, Charlotte,” Colin says dryly.
I shrug. “I never pretended to be deep.”
“No, you don’t pretend, do you?” he says thoughtfully.
“Um, I’ve pretended to be married for a decade. I’d say I’m pretty good at it.”
“Yes, but like you said, that was easier when you were in California. It wasn’t a daily charade you had to keep up. Tonight you were jumpy. You don’t like lying, and you don’t like pretense.”
“No argument there,” I say. “I hate having to lie about our domestic bliss. About the reasons I’m back here.”
“Two more months,” he says quietly. “Then we can file for divorce and end this chapter of our lives.”
“Yeah. And then what?” I ask, more to myself than him.
“You go back to California,” he says, though there’s a slight question in his voice.
“Right,” I say automatically, because that is the plan. Or at least it’s been the plan.
But for some reason, the thought doesn’t click quite as well as it should.
Chapter 15
Saturday, September 5
Since I’ve been in New York, I haven’t been putting my phone on Do Not Disturb when I go to bed, wanting to be available for my team while I’m in a different time zone.
A fact I regret when my cell rings way too early the next morning. I blindly grope for it on the nightstand, eyes still closed as I swipe to access the call.
“Yeah. Hello?”
“You ratted me out to Dad?”
My eyes fly open at the sound of my brother’s voice, and I sit upright. “Justin?”
“Hey, Charlie.”
“What time is it?” I pull the phone away from my ear. “Oh my God, six? On a Saturday? What is wrong with you?”
“It’s noon here.”
“And what, you couldn’t do the math?” I gripe, shoving my hair out of my face.
“You’ve called me about a hundred times in the past couple of weeks. I thought you’d be happy I called.”
“Ah ha! So you have been seeing my calls,” I accuse.
“And may I just say, God bless Caller ID.”
“You’ve been screening me! Your only sister!”
“It’s because you’re my only sister that I know you well enough to know that you needed some time to cool off. But obviously, you’re still peeved if you told Dad about the prenup.”
“Peeved?” I say in disbelief. “Just, you do realize that your prenup shenanigans required me to leave my company, fly across the country, move in with a stranger, live with him for three months, all so that I can become a divorcée?”
“In my defense—”
“Really? Is there a defense?”
“In my defense,” he continued, “I never imagined you two idiots would stay married for ten years without ever seeing each other in the meantime.”
“What did you envision?” I ask skeptically.
“That maybe some forced proximity would make you realize you two were good together.”
My mouth drops open. “You were matchmaking? I thought you were just being a stupid jerk. I can’t decide which is worse.”
“I was being stupid, yes,” he admits. “Can we please remember that I was twenty-four, had passed the bar exactly four days prior, and I wasn’t exactly at the height of professional maturity? But a jerk? Honestly, Charlie, in my head I swear I thought I was doing a good thing.”
“By forcing me to live with a mute who hates my guts?”
“It’s like I said, in my big-brother-knows-best brain, I thought you and Col would be good for each other if you’d just give each other a chance.”
“And what have we learned from all these good intentions? Oh yeah, it’s that big brother knows nothing at all. How could you possibly think we’d be good together? We’re opposites.”
“Exactly. He was so serious all the time—”
“Still is,” I interrupt.
My brother is used to my interruptions and ignores it. “He’s serious and a little uptight. You were all over the place. I thought you could lift him up, and he could ground you.”
“And we’d live happily ever after?” I say sarcastically.
“Again. I was in my early twenties. What were you doing in your early twenties? Oh yeah, getting a nose ring, learning to skydive, pushing our parents’ every button, and marrying a guy you barely knew.”