by Lauren Layne
“Well, I guess I’ll get to see tonight just how good of an actress she is.”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“Engagement party,” she reminded him. “Mom and Dad flew in.”
“They took a six-hour flight for a fake engagement party?”
“On the company jet, so not exactly a hardship,” Audrey pointed out. “Plus, Clarke’s mom more or less badgered them into it.”
She could practically hear him shaking his head in disbelief. “You have a weird life, little sis.”
“I do. I really do. But can I call you tomorrow to catch up on what’s new with you? I have to go bride-to-be it up at the NoMad Hotel and somehow convince everyone that Clarke and I are madly in love.”
“Don’t worry. You will.”
* * *
There were still two hours until the party started, but Audrey, Naomi, and Claire had agreed to meet up for a glass of champagne beforehand.
“You know, the weirdest part of this whole thing,” Claire said, “isn’t that you guys are fake engaged—though I will say Hallmark movie, much?—it’s that everyone seems to believe it. I’ve had a half-dozen potential clients who seem more excited about the prospect of me doing your wedding invitations than their own.”
“For the record,” Audrey said, pointing her champagne flute at Claire, “if I were really getting married, you’d totally be doing my invitations.”
In the past couple of months, Claire had dusted off her calligraphy skills and was already popular enough to have to turn down potential jobs.
“You know that digital invitations are in right now?” Claire asked. “Not like the ‘pick a template and input your information’ e-invitations that have been around for years, but like custom digital invitations by graphic designers and handwritten digital envelopes by yours truly.”
“How does that work?” Naomi asked. “Do you have to scan everything?”
“Nope, I’ve been teaching myself how to letter with an iPad and Apple Pencil,” Claire explained. “There’s a learning curve, but a fun one.”
“Well, there you go, Aud,” Naomi said. “If you and Clarkey decided to go through with this, Claire can make sure you do so in twenty-first-century style.”
Audrey fished a cashew out of the complimentary nut bowl that had been served with their drinks. “I am not marrying Clarke.”
“Says the woman dressed all in white just minutes before her fancy engagement party. You look great by the way.”
“Thanks,” Audrey said with a grin. “I’m glad you think so, because I’m totally going to have you take a photo before I leave.”
“Okay, you know I say this without judgment,” Claire said softly. “And I’m thrilled that Scandal Boy’s backed off since you started this whole little charade. But do you feel at all weird letting your followers think you’re engaged?”
“I did,” Audrey admitted. “And I wouldn’t say the lying feels good. But then I started getting so many comments from brides-to-be who’ve been loving my advice, who’ve asked a million questions about bridal hairstyles, makeup, venue ideas. The wedding market is huge and underserved, and there’s a shortage of unbiased influences. Either you have the vendors, who are trying to sell you something, or you have the brides-to-be themselves, many of whom keep the details of their wedding planning secret, either because it’s personal or because they don’t want anyone copying their ideas.”
“Ooh. You could influence them toward digital invitations!” Claire said.
Audrey laughed. “Precisely. It started out selfishly, but I’ve been shocked by the enthusiastic response, the way I can provide some insight into the process of planning a wedding in New York City. I’ve reframed it. I’m not a fake bride. I’m an undercover bride.”
“Very clever way to make sure you can sleep at night without any guilt,” Naomi said, putting a hand over her chest. “I’ve never been so proud.”
“I’ve learned from your business savvy,” Audrey said, blowing a kiss to her wildly successful boss-babe of a friend.
“I love that we’re all entrepreneurs,” Naomi said happily.
“I don’t know that I’m on the same tier,” Claire said with a laugh. “Your company’s valued at eight figures. Eight. And Audrey here’s passed the million mark in followers. Literally, a million human beings follow her every move.”
“But you love it, right?” Audrey asked. “The calligraphy business?”
Claire’s hazel eyes were happy. “I do. Thinking of my life a year ago, it’s hard to picture where I am now. A thriving little business doing something I love. A dog. A husband.”
Audrey smiled as her friend shook her head in disbelief, content down to her very soul that Claire had found happiness in the aftermath of Brayden’s betrayal with Audrey.
And Naomi, too, though of the three of them, Audrey suspected Naomi had been the least scathed by Brayden. Not unaffected—there was nothing easy about finding out your lover had (a) died and (b) been married the entire time.
Naomi had been seeing Brayden for a shorter amount of time and hadn’t known that Claire even existed until he died. They’d never talked about it, but Audrey had always assumed that blissful ignorance meant that Naomi didn’t carry around the guilt that continued to haunt Audrey to this day.
She should have done her homework, shouldn’t have taken it at face value when he’d told her that he and Claire weren’t even living in the same house. Shouldn’t have believed him when he’d said that they were days away from signing divorce papers.
Audrey knew Claire now. Knew that none of it had been true. What had been brutally true was that Audrey was the other woman. The whole time she’d thought she’d finally found her happily ever after, she was destroying someone else’s. A woman who, as Audrey had come to discover, deserved it more than anyone she knew.
“Okay, I have to ask,” Naomi said. “How long are you going to keep up your undercover-bride thing?”
“Oh, not much longer. I imagine once we get through tonight—”
“Yeah, why are we doing this tonight?” Claire asked curiously. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to have the chance to get dressed up and go to a fancy party with my closest friends, but an engagement party seems…”
“Over-the-top?” Audrey said. “Tell me about it. Though it makes a little more sense if you’ve met Clarke’s mom. Crazy as this is, I can kind of get why he wanted to call her bluff on this party. She was just so smug when we were there for dinner. I’d probably have agreed to just about anything to knock her down a peg.”
“I’m dying to meet Clarke’s parents,” Naomi said.
“Same,” Claire admitted. “I imagine they’re a vital part of the puzzle that is Clarke.”
Audrey blinked in surprise. “What do you mean?”
As far as she was concerned, Clarke was an open book.
“Just that when you first meet him, he seems so easygoing, without a care in the world,” Claire explained. “But the more you get to know him, the more you realize something’s going on beneath the surface. Based on the way he talks about his parents, I figured they had something to do with it.”
“Yeah,” Audrey said, looking down at her champagne. “They’re very… I don’t know. They’re not bad people. I just think they’re not suited to being parents. They’ve always treated Clarke like an extension of them rather than a person in his own right. His dad’s blind to just about anything other than the company. And I know it bugs Clarke that Alton always just assumed Clarke would follow in his footsteps, and yet at the same time he makes it clear that it’s not a foregone conclusion that Clarke will inherit the CEO title one day. It’s like he wants Clarke to earn it but won’t tell him how.”
“What about his mom?”
“Control freak,” Audrey said, taking a sip of champagne. “Her husband does everything she says, and it’s always bugged her that even as a kid, Clarke would never comply with her demands the way his dad does. Clarke played baseb
all when she wanted him to study. He was prom king when she wanted him to be valedictorian.”
“Classic rebellion,” Naomi said knowingly.
“It didn’t start that way,” Audrey said. “I’ve known Clarke since we were kids, and I’ve seen him go through all the stages. Bewilderment that his parents were so against things that he loved. Sports, bugs, charming just about anyone who crossed his path. Then he went through an acquiescence phase, trying to learn to love science club and student council. That lasted about a month before the real Clarke burst out again, and then I think he just… gave up. Ironically, it’s only in adulthood that he’s gone full-on rebel. It’s like he goes out of his way to do whatever they don’t want him to.”
“Including marrying you?”
Audrey grinned. “His mom hates me.”
“I can’t picture that,” Claire said with a shake of her head. “I’ve never seen friends as dedicated to each other as you two.”
“Okay, she doesn’t hate me,” Audrey said. “But her feelings definitely top out at tolerance. She’s always made it quite clear that her vision for Clarke’s girlfriend is not a cheerleader turned sorority girl turned Instagram influencer.”
“So, she didn’t want him with someone hot,” Naomi concluded.
“I think it’s my flightiness that bothers her.”
“You’re not flighty.”
“No, but I’m no Elizabeth Milsap,” Audrey said, a little surprised by the edge in her own tone.
Her friends seemed surprised, too. They exchanged a look. “Who?”
She forced a casual shrug. “Clarke’s ex and half the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. She and Clarke broke up when she moved to DC a couple years ago. Now, she’s back in town, and Clarke’s mom’s gotten it in her head that Elizabeth would be the perfect daughter-in-law.”
“Would she be?”
Audrey hesitated. “I don’t know. She’s smart, ambitious, well-spoken.”
“Yawn,” Naomi said.
“But I don’t dislike her,” Audrey said. “I didn’t know her well. Whenever we did hang out, she was interesting to talk to, and though mostly serious, she did have a sharp sense of humor that made rare appearances.”
“But what does Clarke think about her?”
Good question. Audrey hated to admit it, but she wasn’t entirely sure where Clarke stood when it came to his beautiful, if slightly mysterious, ex-girlfriend. On one hand, he was certainly going to great lengths to avoid his mother’s scheming to push him and Elizabeth together. On the other hand, when his mother had tricked him into going to lunch with his ex, he hadn’t walked away. When his mother had brought his ex to his engagement dinner, Clarke hadn’t said a word against it.
Liz. She couldn’t stop hearing him say it, couldn’t stop seeing his face every time he’d uttered the nickname. How had she not noticed before that he was different when Liz’s name came up? More importantly, why did she even care? It’s not like they were really engaged. And they certainly weren’t in love.
“I don’t know,” Audrey admitted. “I thought she was just another one of the billion women who have come and gone from his life, albeit with a bit more staying power. But maybe there’s something I’m missing.”
“Maybe she’s his Meredith,” Claire said.
“Or his Bridget,” Naomi said in an ominous voice.
“Who?” Audrey asked, not recognizing either name.
“Scott and Oliver’s ex-fiancées,” Claire said.
“Oh, that’s right,” Audrey said, tapping her fingers on the glass. “I’d forgotten both those guys were engaged before they met you.”
“I try to forget it,” Naomi said, not bothering to keep the possessive note out of her voice. “Bridget bailed on Oliver after both his parents got sick within the same year. She’s dead to me.”
“And Meredith cheated on Scott, sooooo…” Claire trailed off, her statement pretty much saying it all.
“Jeez,” Audrey muttered.
“Hence all those delightful trust issues that Claire and I get to work through with them,” Naomi said with a grin. “Maybe it’s the same with Clarke and this Elizabeth. Maybe all our guys have their individual female version of Brayden. You know. Their demon.”
“Okay, crucial difference,” Audrey pointed out. “Clarke’s not my guy.”
“Sorry, but who bought you that Tiffany ring?”
“And who’s been your other half since, what, age seven?” Claire added.
“You know what I mean,” Audrey said. “It’s not the same. And if you’re asking whether Elizabeth hurt Clarke the way those girls hurt your guys, I don’t think so.”
“He’s never mentioned it?”
Audrey fiddled with her earring. “No.”
“Well, he tells you everything, so maybe she really was just some girl who came and went, who he doesn’t want to get saddled with now just because his weird mom has an agenda. Also, party starts in ten, and as guest of honor, a fashionably late entrance will be no good. We should go,” Naomi said as she put her credit card down on the bill the server had just dropped off.
Claire was watching Audrey closely. “You’re not sure how Clarke feels about this Elizabeth woman.”
“I’m not,” Audrey admitted, though it pained her. “I get the feeling maybe I underestimated the impact her leaving had on Clarke.”
“You think she’s the reason he agreed to let this fake engagement go so far as the fancy party we’re about to go to?”
“I don’t know,” Audrey said as they stood. “But I’m about to find out, with your help.”
“How’s that?”
“Because,” Audrey muttered, “you’re about to meet her. Clarke’s mother invited his ex-girlfriend to my engagement party.”
Chapter Five
SATURDAY, JANUARY 18
Where is your wayward groom?” Claire asked as the three of them stepped into the NoMad Hotel, just around the corner from their drinks location. “If you guys are going to sell this togetherness thing, shouldn’t you walk in… together?”
“He’ll be here,” Audrey said, putting a palm against her stomach, surprised to feel the fluttering of nervous butterflies at the night ahead. Talking about wedding planning on Instagram was one thing. Walking into a room full of people who actually thought there would be a wedding was another. At least half of them were probably watching with an eagle eye to see if all the rumors about Audrey’s bad luck with men were true.
She answered Claire distractedly. “He had a business trip to Miami. Or maybe Palm Beach?”
“Orlando, actually.”
All three women turned to see Clarke just behind them.
Audrey’s butterflies immediately vanished. Yes, she’d be walking into a room full of people as a fake bride-to-be, but she wouldn’t be alone.
She looked down in puzzlement when she realized he was wheeling a suitcase behind him and had a garment bag over his shoulder. To say nothing of the fact that Clarke could pull off just about any look, she was definitely looking at rumpled Clarke right now. The hair was a little crazy, he needed a shave, and the jeans and wrinkled, untucked dress shirt were better suited for stumbling out of the club at 3 a.m. than they were for a formal cocktail party. Hosted by his mother.
“Is this just-woke-up look your newest way of pissing off Linda?” Audrey asked curiously.
He laughed and ran a hand over his face, which she belatedly realized showed all the classic signs of exhaustion. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, his smile less easy than usual.
“I just got into JFK an hour ago,” he said by way of explanation. “And traffic was, you know, standard Manhattan fair.”
“So, awful?” Naomi said sympathetically.
He gave her a fleeting smile, then apparently belatedly realizing he hadn’t greeted his friends, pulled both Claire and Naomi in for a hug. “I haven’t seen you beauties in forever.”
“Rumor has it you’ve been busy and congratulations
are in order?” Claire asked teasingly.
His smile was more genuine this time. “Hell of a game Dree and I have going on, huh?”
“Definitely,” Naomi agreed. “Although, if I can be blunt—”
“Aren’t you always?” he asked.
“Exactly. Which is why I’ll tell you, you look like hell, and nobody is going to believe Audrey would marry a guy who shows up to his own engagement party looking like this.”
“Try telling that to the family patriarch,” he muttered.
Audrey frowned. “What did your dad do?”
“Sent me to a damn conference in Florida. Told me it ended yesterday. Wrong. The keynote speech was today.”
“Couldn’t you have politely bailed, saying you had a rather important thing you had to attend?” Claire asked, pointing at Audrey’s clearly bridal-esque ensemble.
“I was giving the keynote,” Clarke said. “Something my dad conveniently forgot to mention. I had zero chance of catching my original flight and barely got on standby for the flight I did.”
Audrey laughed. “Oh dear. Your parents really don’t want you to marry me, huh?”
“They just don’t want me to do anything that wasn’t their idea. My mother, however, did make a rather crucial mistake.”
“Shoulder pads? Please tell me she’s not one of those women who wears shoulder pads,” Naomi pleaded.
“Not anymore,” Audrey reassured her. “Now she just rocks a lot of pantsuits.”
“Okay, but what was her mistake?” Claire asked Clarke.
“Well, no doubt they hoped I’d show up haggard without a chance to get ready. But if that were the case, she shouldn’t have thrown this shindig at a hotel.” He jiggled the garment bag that was slung over his shoulder.
“Brilliant,” Claire said. “You can get a room and turn into your usual James Bond self.”
“Actually, I don’t think James Bond would even need a room. I’m pretty sure he could have managed to change and shave in the Uber…” Audrey said.
Clarke gave her a look. “Remind me again why I agreed to marry you?”
She blew him a playful kiss. “Okay, you go get ready. We’ll hold down the fort.”
