Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Pippa
We leave the airport and get into a waiting cab. Rhett turns to me and smiles.
“Just so you know, the place we’re going to, the Hamptons, I don’t actually live there, but it’s where the wedding is.”
“Oh! Are we staying at a hotel?”
“No. We’re going to my beach house. I live in Manhattan normally.”
“Oh, that sounds lovely,” I say. In my mind, I envision a picturesque little cabin on the edge of the beach, all driftwood and colorful rugs. A quaint little place that smells of salt and always has a layer of sand on the wooden floor, no matter how much it gets swept up.
I couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Bright yellow sunshine hits my face the moment we step out of the car, and I squint against the brilliance of it.
The ocean sprawls endlessly to one side, its waves glittering in the afternoon sun.
The almost white sand seems to go on for miles, while in front of us, a mansion rises, immaculately white and stylish with enormous glass windows.
A perfectly manicured lawn and a driveway lined with sleek luxury cars.
My stomach twists in a way that’s both awe and panic.
“This is … yours,” I breathe, unsure if I sound admiring or envious.
Rhett leans against the car, casually cool, his hands in his pockets. “Welcome to my humble abode.”
I snort out a laugh. “Humble my ass. Jeez, Rhett! I expected a quaint little cabin. You could have warned me you were rich.”
He shrugs in that effortless, infuriating way he does. “Does it matter?” he asks. “The neighbors are friends of mine who are also down for the wedding, so it’s not like you need to worry about fitting in.”
My brain tries to process all of this. “Your friends all have holiday homes here too?” I repeat, more for clarification than anything.
“Yeah. Although some of them prefer to summer in the Med, they’ll all be here for the wedding.” His lips twist. “Elliot Hawthorne doesn’t take no for an answer.”
That name hits me like a lightning bolt. Elliot Hawthorne. I’ve seen him before on one of those eligible bachelor lists. He’s tall, dark, impeccably dressed, and rumored to have inherited some massive fortune and a fleet of super yachts. My pulse accelerates.
“It can’t be the Elliot Hawthorne from the Forbes list, surely?” I ask, waiting for Rhett to laugh and tell me not to be so silly.
Instead, he nods. “That’s the one. Although he won’t be a bachelor for very much longer.”
“So,” I say slowly, trying not to squeak. “You’ve brought me here without proper warning. It’s a society wedding. I’m going to make a total fool of myself. Oh God, I don’t have anything to wear.”
Rhett’s smile is a mix of amusement and mischief.
“They’re just people, Pippa. Sure, there will be society types.
And yes, they are wealthy. Connected. And yes, it’s a bit of a different world than the one you’re used to, but, for the most part, they’re good people.
Having money doesn’t automatically make you a bad person. ”
“I know,” I relent. “I’m sorry. I just … it’s a lot.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I get that. I probably should have prepared you better. But in the interest of full disclosure, you know I work at Remington International, right?”
I nod my head.
“Well, the thing is, I don’t so much work there as I own the company. I’m Rhett Remington,” he says.
The words hit me like a freight train. My jaw drops. Rhett Remington. He’s up there with Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, and the like. How the hell did I end up here as his date, fake or otherwise?
“You’re … a tech billionaire?”
He gives one nod of his head, and then he just watches me, amused, letting the reality settle in. I can’t breathe. The ocean, the sun, the mansion, his casual pose, it all feels suddenly suffocating. My stomach twists into knots. I step back, my brain spinning.
“I … I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” My hands fidget with the straps of my handbag, my thoughts already spiraling out of control as I think of the dress I packed for the wedding.
“The dress I brought for the wedding… I have a Zara dress, Rhett. It’s …
it’s fine for normal weddings, but here?
Everyone’s going to be in designer gowns, couture, and jewelry that costs more than my rent for a year.
I might as well be dressed in a bin bag.
I need to go home. Can you call me a cab to the airport? I …”
Rhett steps closer to me, his voice calm, grounding. “Pippa. Relax. It’s ok. Give me two minutes … and trust me.”
I gape at him. “Two minutes?”
He nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Two minutes. Then you follow me.”
I open my mouth to interrupt, but he keeps going. “If by the end of the day you still want to leave, I will arrange everything for you, ok?”
I find myself nodding, his tone soothing enough that I calm down a little bit. I don’t know what he thinks he can do to make me feel ok about my pauper clothes, but I’m here now, I can give him a chance.
Rhett heads towards the mansion with my suitcase in one hand and his cell phone in the other.
I sink onto the low stone wall by the driveway, trying to slow my racing heart.
What am I doing? This isn’t me. I’m Zara, Topshop, H&M.
This world, it’s not designed for me. And yet, he looks at me like I belong in it with him, like this is exactly where I should be.
A few minutes later, Rhett returns, unruffled, looking like he’s just finished sipping a cold drink in some Mediterranean villa. He gestures toward the car.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?” I ask nervously.
“You’ll see,” he replies coolly.
I know it’s not the airport, because he has come back without my suitcase. That’s literally all I know, though. Maybe he’s going to show me Times Square before I leave.
I follow him reluctantly, feeling very much like a fish out of water in this world of pristine lawns, sparkling pools, and sunbaked terraces.
He drives with the windows down, and the warm, salty Atlantic breeze tugs at my hair, and the sound of waves crashing from somewhere in the distance fills my ears.
“I’m taking you to East Hampton,” he says casually. “My friend’s girlfriend is going to take you shopping. She’s fabulous, and she will know exactly what you’ll need.”
I glance at him, my brow furrows. “Shopping?”
He smiles, holding out a sleek black card. “Yes. Use my credit card. Go nuts. Get something for the wedding and anything else you want.”
I stare at it in astonishment. “Rhett, I can’t take this. I …”
“It’s part of the wedding expenses,” he interrupts smoothly. “Just think. How can you convincingly play the part of my girlfriend in a Zara dress?”
I try to bite back a protest, but how can I when he is making complete sense? I feel the heat rising in my cheeks as I continue to argue the point. “But I can’t … I …”
“You can,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “And you will. Tech billionaire, remember? I won’t miss it.”
The road curves, and soon we pull into the driveway of a stunning property, smaller than his mansion but still marvelous with duck egg blue walls, glass accents, and tropical landscaping.
He steps out of the car, and I follow suit.
He leads me toward the entrance to the house, and I feel the weight of the card in my hand, like a key to a world I’ve only glimpsed in glossy magazines and Instagram feeds.
My heart beats erratically, a mixture of fear, excitement, and an undeniable thrill all tangled together.
Inside, the interior is chic but welcoming with soft cream walls, plush rugs, and strategically placed works of art.
I hear laughter from somewhere inside the cavernous house, then a woman moves to meet us.
She is a pretty brunette with a friendly smile.
Her outfit is designer casual. She embodies the type of effortless elegance I’m not sure I can match.
“Pippa,” she says brightly, stepping forward. “I’m Maria, and I’m going to be your personal shopper today. Trust me, it’ll be fun.”
Rhett places a hand lightly on my back. “Have fun.” Then he hands me a key. “I have to pop to the office. This is the key to the house in case you guys get back before me.”
I glance up at him, wanting to protest, to tell him I’m really not ready for this, but he gives me that infuriating smile, assured, confident, teasing.
“Go on,” he says, and adds cryptically. “Enjoy the experience. You can’t break anything even if you try.”
And just like that, he’s gone, leaving me alone in the Hamptons with Maria and a credit card that might as well be a passport into a universe I never thought I’d ever enter.
I feel a mix of exhilaration and panic. The dress I packed, the shoes, my entire wardrobe, it suddenly feels like an insult to all the glamour around me. But Maria seems nice, and if all of Rhett’s friends are like him or her, then maybe, just maybe, I can do this.
Maria smiles again, looping her arm through mine. “Ready to be spoiled?”
I force a smile, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We step out into the sun and head towards Maria’s zippy red sports car. As I get in, it hits me that I am not only in Rhett’s world, but I am all alone in his world right now. And it doesn’t feel half as scary as I imagined it would.