Chapter 24
“What’s wrong?” Stacy demanded, hands on her hips as she gave Tabitha a narrowed, no-nonsense glare.
She was dressed in only a white lace bustier, satin panties, silk stockings, and garters, looking like a bridal fantasy.
Her dark blonde hair had been swept up into an elaborate twist—courtesy of one of her co-workers at the salon—and her makeup was so flawless it could’ve been airbrushed.
Tabitha made a mental note: If I ever get married, Stacy is absolutely doing my hair and makeup.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Tabitha lied brightly, forcing a smile that didn’t even convince herself.
She carefully nudged the veil out of the way on Stacy’s bed to find a spot to sit.
Her body ached—in all the best and worst ways—after a second night of near-sleepless, soul-bending sex with Ramzi.
She was also slightly… tender. Because apparently, Ramzi had no interest in restraint.
And she’d loved every second of it.
Stacy sat on the stool in front of her dressing table, still watching her with suspicious eyes. “We met in kindergarten, right?”
Tabitha’s gaze wandered the room, momentarily catching on the layers of soft white fabric draped across the nearby chair, the sparkle of a tiara in its case, the pale pink heels neatly lined up beside a velvet ring box.
Would she ever get this?
“Yeah,” she replied quietly. “What’s your point?”
Stacy chuckled, crossing her arms under her bust. “My point is: you’re seriously going to sit there and tell me nothing’s wrong? I was there when you got a B on your first math test. You cried so hard your nose turned red. I held your hand the whole afternoon.”
Tabitha exhaled, trying to blink back the pressure building behind her eyes.
“I was there for your first crush in seventh grade,” Stacy continued softly. “And I was the one who sat behind the bushes with you while you ugly-cried after you got into your first choice school for university.”
She leaned in closer, her voice gentler now. “And I’m here right now, watching you drown in foundation and mascara and hiding behind slumped shoulders. That’s not you, Tabs. So don’t insult my intelligence. You’re not okay.”
Tabitha laughed, but the sound cracked on its way out. “It’s your happy day,” she whispered, swiping at a tear with a tissue before it could undo the careful makeup.
“Yeah,” Stacy said with a shrug, “but I’ve got an hour until showtime, and frankly, hearing about your drama is way more fun than babysitting my three bridesmaid cousins who are currently arguing about spray tan streaks and heel height.”
Tabitha laughed again, this time more genuine.
Then she sighed, and the truth spilled out. “It’s a fake engagement.”
Stacy blinked.
“Don’t you dare tell anyone,” Tabitha warned quickly. “Ramzi only agreed to this to protect my mom from the town’s gossip machine. My mother laid it on thick—told Ramzi that people were whispering I hadn’t come home because I was still pining for Martin.”
Stacy let out a sharp laugh, eyes wide with disbelief. “Only Leandra says that crap. Everyone else in town knows she’s a drama queen with a bad dye job and an even worse attitude.”
Tabitha froze. “Wait—are you saying the whole town isn’t still talking about me and my so-called unrequited love for that walking pile of cardboard?”
Stacy held her hand to her heart. “Not even a whisper. You’ve been elevated to mythic status. The prodigal daughter turned corporate goddess.”
Tabitha squinted at her, suspicious. “Then… my mom made it up?”
Stacy grinned, slowly raising both hands like she was being arrested. “Don’t look at me. This wasn’t my scheme. If your mom said the town was gossiping, she lied through her teeth.”
Tabitha shot to her feet, pacing like a storm cloud with high heels. “My mother lied?!”
“Like a Persian rug,” Stacy confirmed, eyes sparkling. “The only gossip about you is that you’re killing it in Philly and work for some fancy company. And that you might be secretly rich. I may have helped that rumor along a little.”
Tabitha paused mid-stride. “Wait, you started the rich part?”
“Well…” Stacy gave her a shameless grin. “Can you blame me? I mean, look at your outfits. That ring. That man. I couldn’t let Leandra get the last word.”
Tabitha shook her head, laughter and fury tangled in her chest. “Oh, my mother is so going to pay for this.”
“Please let me be there when you tell her off,” Stacy said sweetly, already reaching for a glass of champagne.
Tabitha’s fingers clenched into fists. “I’m going to…!”
“Hey,” Stacy interrupted gently, rising from her stool to take Tabitha’s hands in hers.
“At least your mom’s little stunt got you back here for my wedding.
And you know I’ve been begging you to come.
” She gave a small shrug. “If it took one tiny lie to get you here, I don’t care.
You’re my best friend. You wouldn’t agree to be in the wedding party—this is the next best thing. I get to have you close.”
“I know,” Tabitha whispered, lowering her head, ashamed. “I’m sorry I was so stubborn. If I’d just listened to you, I wouldn’t be in this… mess.”
Stacy didn’t speak right away. Her fingers squeezed Tabitha’s.
Then, in a quieter voice, she said, “I know you’re in love with him.”
Tabitha’s head shot up. “Huh?”
Stacy smiled knowingly, her eyes soft. “I’ve known for a while. I’ve heard the way you talk about your boss. Ramzi this, Ramzi that. Everything he says, you’ve told me about. Every. Little. Thing.”
“That’s just because…” Tabitha stammered. “Well, he’s smart.”
“And you admire him.”
“Obviously.”
Stacy tilted her head. “And you think he’s hot.”
Tabitha let out a snort. “Who doesn’t?”
“And you want to be with him. All the time.”
Tabitha swiped another tear from under her eye, finally surrendering with a sigh. “Yeah.” She’d already admitted it to herself. There was no point pretending with Stacy. Not now.
“So,” Stacy said slowly, “you’re in love with your fake fiancé.”
Tabitha groaned, but couldn’t help laughing a little. “Yes.”
“And you’ve been in his bed and enjoyed every second.”
“Very much,” Tabitha said, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, Ms. Weatherby caught me leaving his room this morning, so by now, the entire church choir probably knows too.”
“Please. Ms. Weatherby is a professional snoop. Don’t give her that much power.” Stacy grinned, then leaned forward. “But if it helps, I’ve got something better than gossip.”
Tabitha gave her a wary glance. “What’s that?”
“He’s in love with you too.”
She let out another snort, shaking her head. “No, he isn’t. He’s just playing along. Being… kind.”
“No, Tab. He’s not pretending.” Stacy’s voice turned serious. “I’ve been watching him. The way he looks at you? That man is gone. Head over heels.”
Tabitha tried to laugh it off but her chest ached. “He’s not.”
“He is.” Stacy didn’t budge. “But if you’re too busy crying and running away to see it, that’s on you.”
Before Tabitha could argue again, a knock tapped at the door and Stacy’s cousin poked her head in. “Time to get dressed, bride. You’re going to be late.”
Stacy’s excitement bloomed across her face as she stood and crossed the room. “I’m telling you,” she said, voice trailing off as she lifted the wedding dress off of the hanger, “that man is hopelessly in love with you, my emotionally constipated friend.”
Her cousin stepped in to help with the delicate line of pearl buttons as Stacy touched up her hair in the mirror. “And if you don’t figure out how to get him to say it, then you’re not as smart as I always thought you were.”
With a final twirl of her voluminous skirts, she turned and looked Tabitha square in the eye.
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
Tabitha stared at her, stunned.
Stacy just laughed. “Come on. I’ve got a wedding to attend. And you’ve got some thinking to do.”