Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“I’m the one who owes you for agreeing to be my fake fiancée. Consider this part of my paltry attempt to pay you back.”
“You paid your debt to me with an eight-thousand-dollar ring. At this point, I’m the one who owes you.”
“I still owe you, and that’s final.” I look at my brother. He’s smirking. “Now, tell me everything I need to know, so I don’t mess this up.”
Marnie takes a deep breath. “Pick her up by three, please. I’ll email the school the form that gives you permission to get her. When you get home, make her macaroni and cheese. The box kind. Do you know how to make that?”
“I think I can handle it.”
“And an apple, sliced up. She can have a cookie after her meal. But only one. They’re big, and she’s little.”
“Got it.”
“They have extra car seats at school for emergencies like this,” Marnie says, “so you’ll need to borrow one of theirs. Oh, fuck. There’s no back seat in your stupid Ferrari, is there?”
“I’m sitting here with my brother, so I’ll switch cars with him, and I’ll be good to go. He’s got an SUV. A perfect kid-mobile.”
Auggie’s eyebrows hike up. My brother has begged to borrow my beloved Portofino M several times to impress a date, and I’ve always said no. The most I’ve let him do is take over driving a leg when we drove to Vegas for a weekend. But even then, I was sitting right next to him, which is a very different thing than me swapping cars with him for who knows how long.
“Oh, that’s great. Thank Auggie for me, please. I should be home in time for Ripley’s bedtime, but if not, she goes to bed at seven-thirty. Lights out at seven forty-five, so she’s asleep by eight.”
Jesus Christ. How long am I going to be alone with the kid with nowhere to run or hide?
“Don’t worry,” Marnie says. “Ripley will tell you what to do for her bedtime routine if it comes to that. Don’t worry about bath time, though. I’ll bathe her in the morning.”
“I’ve got this. Don’t worry about a thing.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll bring you an amazing meal tonight as thanks.”
“I’ll look forward to that.”
We say our goodbyes, and when the call is over, I plop my phone onto my lap, turn to my brother, and say, “Fuck my life.”
Auggie chuckles. “I take back everything I said before. You’re obviously not catching feelings for Marnie. Clearly.”
I roll my eyes. “Fuck you. She’s my fake fiancée who’s in a bind. Of course, I’m gonna help her out.”
“By doing something you’d never normally do. Not for anyone. Not for all the money in the world.”
“What I’m getting in exchange is even better than money. I’ve got my eye on the prize, son.”
“Mmm hmm. Sure, Maxy-pad.”
I look at my watch and motion to the basketball sitting on the bench next to my brother. “Grab your ball. We’ve got time to play one more game before I have to pick up my fake kid and try my damnedest to look fascinated when she tells me, again, all the reasons why purpole is her favorite color.”
20
MARNIE
It’s almost seven in the evening as I park my SUV alongside the one already sitting in Dad’s driveway—the kid-friendly SUV Max kindly borrowed from his brother, so he could help me out of a stressful jam today. When Max shocked me by saying yes during that frantic call—and in a soothing tone that felt like a balm for my frazzled soul—I wanted to leap through the phone line and bear-hug him. Kiss him. And then feed him the best meal of his damned life and suck his dick for dessert, our “no-sex” agreement be damned. Or rather, my “no-sex” rule be damned. Why’d I insist on that again?
I check my reflection in the mirror in the pull-down sun visor, and scowl at my image. I look worn out. Which I am. But why do I care about that since I’m not even remotely interested in trying to impress or seduce Max after walking into the house? Come on, Marnie. Pull yourself together. Let your smart brain, rather than your horny body, lead the way for once.
With a determined sigh to keep my physical attraction to Max at bay, I get out of my car, intending to head straight to my trunk. I get distracted, however, when I peek into the backseat of Max’s borrowed SUV and glimpse the school’s emergency car seat strapped into it. Now, that’s a sight I never thought I’d see when I met Mr. Smooth PIayboy in an Armani suit at Captain’s. Ha. I wish so badly I could have been a fly on the wall when Max picked Ripley up. I’m sure she nearly broke all the windows in the classroom with her shriek of pure ecstasy.