His gaze travels over me, taking in my messy bun, oversized hoodie, and favorite worn jeans like he’s silently inspecting me. Then his eyes flick up to mine before I can read anything in them.
“Sowhyare you here, then? Because I have customers waiting out front.”
He clears his throat. “I actually wanted to talk to you.”
“Let me guess—” I grab a towel to wipe my hands. “Your mom thinks I’m your wedding date.”
The panic that flashes across his face would be comical if my entire world wasn’t currently on the verge of collapsing.
He raises his hands. “Scarlett, I can explain?—”
“So it’snota mistake? You told them I was coming as your plus-one?” I take a step toward him. “What in the world were you thinking?”
He exhales. “They really wanted me to find a date. And my sister said that if I didn’t, she would set me up with her friend Laila, one of the bridesmaids.” He looks at me for support.
I give him none. Because lying to his mother is simply inexcusable.
His mouth tightens into a line. “So I might have mentioned that I already had a date.”
“You might have mentioned…” I say slowly.
He flinches as he meets my eyes. “I told them it was you.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because I also told them—” He looks away, clearly uncomfortable now. “That I was seeing you. That’s what I was coming to tell you right now.”
“You told your mother you’re seeing me.” My voice is flat. Unsympathetic. “As in, friends who see each other at the coffee shop? Or like, romantically involved? Because if it’s the second, that’s the exact opposite of what we actually are.”
If Brendan’s going to make up a story about me—and use me as an excuse to get out of a date with a woman he can’t stand—I want him to be as uncomfortable as possible.
He lifts his cap and runs a hand through his hair. “I let them believe that we were…involved.” He sighs. “Listen, I know that was wrong.”
“Wrong?” I let out a humorless laugh.
The guy who broke my heart is using me to avoid a setup with his sister’s friend. This is unacceptable on so many levels. “You know what’s wrong, Brendan? My dad fighting cancer while I try to keep our business from going under. You know what else is wrong? The fact that we are not dating, have never been dating, and your mother now thinks I’m the future Mrs. Brendan Marco.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, Scarlett,” he says in that infuriatingly controlled way. “I just need a wedding date.”
I stare at him.A wedding date for the Marco family?Last time I got close to that world, I was shown the door.Literally.And he’s standing here asking me to walk back in like that never happened.
“Then hire an escort,” I fire back.
“You know that escorts usually provide other services, right?Notwhat I’m looking for.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Oh, so you don’t want a good time?”
He rolls his eyes.
“Wait, I get it.” I point at him. “You need someone safe. A temporary girlfriend you can parade around for a week so nobody asks why Coach Marco still shows up to family weddings alone.”
His brow furrows. “That’s not?—”
“Well, you just picked the wrong girl.” I brush past him toward the door, the rush of adrenaline making my heart pump. Istop, whirling around to face him one last time. “Find yourself another pretend girlfriend, Brendan Marco.”
I leave him standing there among the scattered silverware, his mouth open.
Just like he left me twelve years ago. Except this time, I’m the one walking away.