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Fake Fiancé for Christmas

Page 2

by Emily Bow


  I quickened my step while the crowd was distracted and facing forward. Once I’d reached the front, the VIP alcove was visible because the event planners had roped off a reserved section. I went right up to the edge. An older lady stood with a middle-aged couple and four younger men. Grandmother Kentwell, Chance’s parents and brothers if I had to guess.

  I’d reached the inner circle.

  Attractive family. Especially the brothers. Their hair color varied from fair to dark, but they had a similar square-jawed handsomeness. Each had his own appeal, but none were like Chance. I looked back at Chance on stage. He simply had that something more. Charisma maybe?

  I tore my gaze away.

  His father put his arm around his mother. She’d gifted two of the boys with her dark hair and didn’t resemble the older lady at all. I’d guess she was the paternal grandmother. Both women wore icicle pale-blue dresses, and the grandmother wore hers with a lighter lace overlay. She beamed at the boys as if they were all brilliant treasures.

  The only other woman in their group was Madison, our chapter president. She stood to the left of Tyler clad in our sorority’s signature blush pink. Her dress was knee-length and screamingly appropriate. Her beautiful dark hair was tied up in elaborate braids. And her makeup was professionally applied. I didn’t begrudge her those skills. What I disliked was the adoring looks she was giving Tyler when just last evening she’d sat on our sofa cyber-stalking her bartender ex.

  Madison, the obstacle, was here. Tyler, the mark, was here. Where was Bitsie?

  I had to stall. I clasped my hands behind my back with the bottle between them and faced the stage with a polite expression, as if I thought we were supposed to pause our pouring for the presentation.

  The presenter spoke again. “As director of the university’s athletic program, I can truly say this donation will improve the lives of our student athletes.” He shook Chance’s hand.

  Chance came down the steps to applause from the room. He had an easy athletic stride, and he met each pat on his back with a handshake and a disarming grin.

  Chance exuded appeal. Bitsie really should get a little closer. Get one look at Chance, and she’d ditch the already-taken Tyler so fast.

  Where was she?

  Could she see these guys? No wonder my sorority had been abuzz when they’d transferred. So much handsome singleness. I’d have to look up from my textbooks more often. I eased closer to Madison, ready to go in and distract her as soon as Bitsie reached us.

  Mrs. Kentwell spoke with Madison and I ended up close enough to catch her words. “Help Chance find the right sort of girl. All my boys need guidance. I’m sure you can help with that.”

  Yep, Madison had a whole sorority to pick from, barring the handful of girls with boyfriends, and the studious ones like me who planned on a relationship later. But really, had Mrs. Kentwell looked at her sons? They could find their own dates. Fifty well-dressed women hovered outside this roped off area alone.

  Madison’s brown eyes sparkled. “Of course, Mrs. Kentwell. I know exactly what you mean. We’ll hit them with so many girls this holiday season they’ll be engaged by Easter. Because that is the goal, isn’t it?” They giggled.

  Each giggle annoyed me. My mother was a matchmaker too. She always put me in the awkward position of having to turn a guy down. She didn’t understand that I needed to focus on school. When I was a freshman, I’d dated as often as all the other girls. The distractions had tanked my grades. I cut back on sorority activities, and guys, and now I was on target for my dream medical school. Once I was at Baylor, I’d meet a lovely, like-minded med student and pin him under the mistletoe.

  Chance rejoined his family, and they greeted him with handshakes and hugs. He was the kind of guy who drew attention. One of his brothers handed him an empty champagne glass. Chance scanned the area, and his powerful green gaze landed on me.

  Beautiful Christmas green. Lively, intelligent, wow. I’d never seen eyes like that. The pull in them.

  His expression stilled. My heartbeat a little harder. Six two, athletic build, handsome. Was he feeling what I was feeling?

  Chance strode closer, heading toward me.

  I tingled with a surprising anticipation. The impact of him this close was extra alluring. Did he like girls with blue eyes? I looked down, and then up at him under my carefully curled false eyelashes. ‘Tis the season.

  Chance stopped in front of me.

  What would Chance say to me? Would he have a cheesy, funny pickup line? Would he go with the classic hello? Would he ask me to sneak away from this noisy ballroom for coffee? To marry him? To have his green-eyed children?

  I waited to hear the words.

  Chapter 3.

  Chance Kentwell, man of the hour, billionaire bachelor, fellow senior, holy holiday handsomeness stood in front of me.

  He lifted his champagne flute and tilted the empty crystal goblet toward me.

  Dude wants a drink. Not a lifetime of passion. My lips quirked up at the ridiculousness of my hormone-fueled runaway thoughts.

  His green gaze sparkled and dropped to my lips and then to my cleavage. He was checking me out.

  I held in a sigh. I was glad he appreciated the view. I was, but was that really all the effort this hot guy had to extend? Just stand in front of a girl with his wicked green eyes and let her do the work? Wealth had spoiled him.

  Money interested some girls. Who didn’t like money? His bad boy reputation likely intrigued others. I was deeper. I’d simply had a momentary lapse when faced with his full-on magnetism.

  I raised the champagne bottle with steady hands and held the tip to his open glass without pouring any in. I winked at him. “Are you asking for a refill?” I asked the obvious question.

  Chance smiled a slow smile. For a guy with a take things fast reputation, he had a really slow grin. The kind that said I can downshift when I need to, and I can wait to make my move.

  I liked his mouth a lot, the masculine curve of his lips, the edge of his straight white teeth.

  Chance looked me down then up again, discretely, but appreciatively. “I’m asking for your name.”

  My insides wiggled with pleasure. “Oh, I’m not really here.” Because I really wasn’t supposed to be here. He could check the roster of models. Holly Chadwick would not be present. I was as anonymous as Cinderella.

  Chance blinked, and I loved the interested gleam in his eyes. “You’re more here than anyone else in this room.”

  My heart melted. I liked clever guys.

  He opened his mouth, and I knew he was going to ask me out.

  Despite my firm belief in undergrad distractions, I couldn’t swear I’d say no. I’d like to have my arms around those shoulders. I’d like to move closer to him. I wanted to know what he smelled like, tasted like. My body angled more toward his.

  My eyes locked on his. He stared deep into mine.

  “Holly!” And Madison was there.

  I jerked, and champagne spilled wet over my fingers and into his glass. Madison’s interruption jolted me off the cloud his presence had flown me to. I stopped pouring and watched Chance’s mouth as he took a sip. Was it good?

  I licked my lips.

  “That’s a costume. Isn’t it?” Madison stood beside Chance looking sophisticated and perfect from blush ribbon-tied hair to blush shoes. “What are you doing here? Dressed like you belong in a candy dish?”

  Outside jobs required approval, which meant a demerit was coming in my future. That said, I had the perfect distraction now for Bitsie. I didn’t risk looking for her. She’d better be seizing this opportunity and leaping on Tyler, because it was go-time.

  “Hmm,” Madison prompted. Madison couldn’t fully go off on me with her boyfriend’s family steps away. She could narrow her brown eyes and throw out a question, but that was the extent of her power here and now.

  I jiggled the champagne bottle. “Simply filling in for a friend.” I smiled at her. �
��Need a top off?”

  She didn’t. Golden bubbly hovered at the three-quarters mark in her glass. Our sorority advised one glass while in the presence of parents. I’d give her that; she followed the sorority guidelines as if they led to a ticket for a good life.

  I’d better not be incurring her wrath for nothing. I took a quick glance around. There. Bitsie. She had almost gotten to Tyler. She was in the game.

  Holy cow. On a base level, I hadn’t thought Bitsie had the guts to reach for fair Tyler, but there she stood moments away from filling Tyler Kentwell’s glass with golden excess.

  “Introduce us,” Chance Kentwell said to Madison, drawing my attention back to him.

  Madison did the introductions.

  Chance held out his hand, and I placed my fingers in his. Mine were chilled from carrying the iced champagne bottle. His were warm, firm, and strong. This man did more than write checks. Though of course I could tell that from his build.

  Standing there holding his hand heated my insides as if I’d tossed back a vodka shot after a game of I Never. With him, I’d invent a new game. I Never, But I Would. My attraction to him wasn’t convenient or timely, but the feelings were there, nonetheless. My skin felt electric, I wanted his attention.

  Why was freaking Madison still standing here? Oops. Yeah, I was supposed to be distracting her to give Bitsie time with Tyler.

  A crackle sounded from the microphone on stage. The Kentwell parents moved behind the podium. I hadn’t even noticed them leaving the alcove. I nodded at Chance. “Looks like you’re about to get some familial praise.”

  Chance shook his head briefly and arched his eyebrows. Whatever his parents were up to was a surprise to him. Maybe his mom was going to offer him up like in a bachelor auction. Now that would raise some funds for a scholarship.

  Mr. Kentwell lifted the microphone. “While we cannot be prouder of Chance.”

  Chance faced the stage now.

  His father put his free arm around his mother. “We also cannot miss this opportunity to make an announcement about our other wonderful son, Tyler.”

  They really could. This was Chance’s big day. Not Tyler’s. But who was I to judge? I was standing here in stilettos pouring champagne. At an event I wasn’t invited to. Wearing a dress I shouldn’t be borrowing. Maybe the billionaire brothers’ parents were going to heap praises on all of their sons, starting with Tyler.

  Bitsie was a foot away from Tyler, but he turned at the mention of his name. At the same time, Madison rushed to his side and looped her arm around one of his as if she’d never left and never wanted to.

  I knew better.

  Bitsie backed up a step. She looked lost, as if she were supposed to go away, but she couldn’t make her black pumps move.

  My heart ached for her. She’d been inches away and her crush was clearly going strong.

  “We must take a moment amid all this celebration to congratulate Tyler and his new fiancée. Dear sweet Madison.”

  Oh holy night.

  Chance’s hand clenched around the glass and the words registered with me at the same time.

  His dad continued, “After Tyler graduates this semester, he’s doing an internship at our Dublin office. Sweet Madison is going with him, so you’ve probably now guessed our surprise announcement. We’re having a Christmas wedding.”

  The room erupted in claps and congratulatory murmurs.

  I’d brought my friend here to encourage her to go after what she wanted in life. To learn that she could live better with failure than the regret of never trying. And, and, no. No. No.

  We’d ended up crashing the surprise engagement announcement of her crush and his girlfriend. My stomach churned like I’d eaten too many candy canes.

  Bitsie stood there blinking. As if she had lost her ability to see and hear.

  I went straight to her and drew her away from the family area and into the crowd. “Just breathe.”

  “I was so close.”

  “I know.”

  Bitsie’s breath hitched. “Did you hear what I heard? Why hasn’t Madison told us she’s engaged?”

  I shook my head in sympathy. “Must be new. I didn’t know.” An engagement ring squashed this plan of Get Tyler flatter than an empty stocking. He’d made his decision. “We should go.”

  Someone gave a cheery whistle, adding to the clapping and well wishes. Poor Bitsie.

  “Thanks, all,” Mr. Kentwell said.

  What a Christmas nightmare for Bitsie. I needed to get her out of her.

  Mrs. Kentwell stepped forward. I saw her and then my view was blocked by a group of ladies who held their arms high so their champagne wouldn’t spill. They moved between Bitsie and me to reach the lucky couple.

  “I’d like to add my thanks also,” Mrs. Kentwell said into the microphone.

  Two more ladies came forward. Champagne from one of their glasses splashed my bare shoulder, chilled and sticky.

  “Bitsie.”

  No answer.

  The crowd shifted again. More champagne splashed. I moved toward where I’d last seen her. A glimpse of red velvet and white satin flashed amid a pack of girls surging toward the VIP alcove.

  Another girl slipped around me.

  The younger women in the crowd were using the engagement as an excuse to get into the VIP area to meet the billionaire brothers.

  The nook, however, was only big enough for ten or so.

  An elbow jabbed into my side, forcing me back a step. Two girls maneuvered into the opening. There were “squeals,” “umphs,” and more “congratulations.”

  “Maybe you should all take a step back,” Mr. Kentwell said from his vantage point on the stage.

  I shoved into the crowd, needing to reach Bitsie. I wanted her out of here before her disappointment made her act in a manner she’d regret.

  Another flash of candy cane white and Christmas red.

  There, to my right.

  A lady in winter navy stepped high and over someone on the floor.

  Bitsie was on the floor. And that woman had stepped over her. Adrenaline spiked through me. I shoved at a sequined shoulder, trying to reach Bitsie and help. Bitsie’s palm went to the floor to push herself up, but she jerked her hand back as a stiletto stomped down within an inch of her fingers.

  We weren’t at a rock concert or the World Series. These people needed to calm down.

  I covered the opening to the champagne bottle and shook the neck hard.

  One oblivious girl had her high-heeled sandal pinning the hem of Bitsie’s skirt. Another had a satin pump flat on Bitsie’s long chestnut hair. I aimed the bottle at the girls keeping Bitsie down and released my thumb.

  The expensive sweet-smelling liquid sprayed forth, splashing the women without care of their social status, eighty-dollar makeup applications, or hair-sprayed updos.

  Chapter 4.

  “Back up,” I said, scattering everyone in range.

  Champagne spewed forth, forcing back the girl standing on Bitsie’s skirt. She rubbed at one eye, and her false eyelashes flopped onto her high cheekbone.

  Wet streaks trailed through the amber blush of a petite girl standing on Bitsie’s hair, but she stayed put.

  I shook the bottle harder and aimed higher.

  The guests screeched.

  The crowd in front of me parted, and no one pressed forward due to the jetting stream of liquor. A final glug of foam dampened my fingers, and I dropped the drained bottle.

  I reached Bitsie and shoved at the ankle of the girl who still stood on her hair despite my hint, pushing until she stepped off. I got Bitsie free and pulled her up.

  The only thing between us and the VIP alcove was an expensive puddle.

  Madison, her mouth gaping, stared straight at me. A single damp strand of her hair clung to her forehead.

  Tyler’s mouth gaped too and his eyes were big.

  Three of his brothers and the grandmother had left.
r />   Chance was joining them, backing toward a door in the wall I hadn’t realized was there. He gave me a delighted grin and a wink, then turned and disappeared.

  The adrenaline faded.

  I gave Bitsie a quick once-over. She appeared more embarrassed than hurt. “Are you okay?”

  Bitsie tugged on her dress. “Sort of.”

  The director of athletics’ voice sounded through the speakers. “Everyone, there’s no reason for the commotion. Everyone.”

  Madison’s brown gaze dropped to the empty champagne bottle rolling at my feet.

  I needed to go.

  The family had left through a door that looked like paneling. I tugged Bitsie to the side of the room. Maneuvering away from the VIP section and the stage was far easier than fighting to get to it. I patted the wall until I found another door and pulled us through.

  This hallway differed from the one that held the room where we had locked up our clothes and purses. We needed to make our way back around to the other side of the building. “We need to get our stuff.”

  Bitsie slumped against the wall. “Did you hear?” Her voice broke.

  I crossed my arms at my waist, preparing to give her a minute. “Yes.”

  “Is he really going to marry Madison?”

  “It looks like it.”

  Bitsie covered her mouth with her hand. “Did you know?”

  “No. You know I would’ve told you.”

  Bitsie dropped her hand and her hazel eyes hardened. “You know how you applied to Baylor for early acceptance?”

  Random topic switch. “Yes.”

  “Have you heard anything?”

  “No. Why?”

  Bitsie looked at me like she wanted to tell me something, but she didn’t say anything.

  “Why?”

  Bitsie looked away. “I was thinking how neither of us got what we wanted. And Madison gets a flawless family. She blended in with them so well. Like she belonged.” Bitsie pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “The Kentwells are flawless. He’s a banker. Did I tell you that? Their mom is a socialite. She helps so many charities. Tyler’s going to be a lawyer. So ambitious. Now Madison is moving with him to Ireland. That’s so amazing. I don’t know why I even thought I had a shot.”

 

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