“What are you talking about?” Carmen asks.
“All their bad luck. Listen, her family is just different from ours. Why doesn’t he date someone more suitable? Like Laila?”
“Laila’s laid up with a broken leg in Switzerland. Besides, Brendan can’t stand her.”
“Honestly, I can’t imagine this will last long,” Taylor continues, then she sighs deeply. “Although Brendan does seem to have a thing for hopeless cases.”
Hopeless cases?I seriously want to strangle the woman.
I wait until I hear them leave before I even dare to move. When I finally step out from behind the door, I notice my whole body has gone cold.
That was utterly humiliating.And now I have to face them and pretend that I’m all right.
I check the hallway before I make my way to the hot-tub room, reviewing the conversation in my mind and all the things I wanted to tell—okay,shout at—Taylor, but couldn’t.
I take a shaky breath and pray I can get through the rest of this day without losing it.
“Carmen?” I step inside the room, where a hot tub bubbles like a giant pot of soup. “Anyone here?”
Only silence.
Thank God. I need a moment. Or fifty.
I climb into the steaming water and sink down until bubbles break around my shoulders. The heat should be relaxing, but all I feel is the burning behind my eyes and the breath catching on the lump in my throat.
I hang my head, and the next thing I know, tears are dripping down my face, hot and fast.
I try to talk myself out of this spiral, but Taylor’s words keep circling my head like a mosquito that won’t leave me alone.She’s not one of us. Not good enough. Brendan only likes hopeless cases.
What if she’s…right? What if everything she said is what people are actually thinking, and I’m just too dumb to figure it out? It’s just like when I switched schools and no one wanted to sit with me at the lunch table. I’mnotsophisticated like the rest of the Marco women. I didn’t attend a fancy private school or spend summers at my uncle’s beach house. I’ve never been to a wedding that costs more than my entire year’s salary. My idea of a nice dinner is when we can afford to order pizza instead of eating leftovers.
And here I am, pretending to date someone who grew up with all of that—someone whose uncle owns a professional hockey team and who probably has a trust fund bigger than a lifetime of the cafe earnings.
I’m just Brendan’spretendgirlfriend. Not his actual girlfriend, no matter how he looked at me on that Ferris wheel. He was caught up in the moment, and I got sucked in too, believing there could be something between us.
And now, we’ve done such a good job thateveryonebought it.
Why wouldn’t they?It wasn’t hard to pretend I was in love with Brendan Marco.
Because Iamin love with him. And that’s the worst part.
After the wedding, I’ll be stuck with these feelings, but the deal will be over.Finished.And even getting the vendor contract won’t make up for that. Then we go back to being…what? Friends? People who see each other at the coffee shop?
Why does that thought make me cry harder?
I’m such a wreck right now, I don’t even hear the door open or the footsteps approach.
I’m startled when a deep voice says, “I hope you’re wearing a swimsuit under those bubbles, because if not…”
My head snaps up.
Brendan is standing at the edge of the hot tub, wearing only black swim trunks that sit low on his hips, and even through my puffy eyes, I think he might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
As soon as he sees my face, his grin falls away.
“Scarlett.” He’s in the water in a heartbeat, moving toward me, then falling to his knees so his face is even with mine above the water. “What’s wrong?”
I wipe my eyes, but it’s useless now. My cheeks are streaked with tears and my nose is running like a sieve. I take in a shaky, pathetic sniffle. “It’s a good thing I don’t like muscles,” I mutter with a laugh.