Chapter 9 #2
“You left early on Saturday and weren’t at the Hastings’ party. I was simply wondering.”
I lean back against the wall, tucking my hands in my pockets. “You mean, you looked for me.”
She spins to face me, a look of exasperation on her face. “Yeah, I did. You want to know why?”
“I have a feeling you’ll tell—”
“I ran into Carson’s mom, who strongly disapproves of his new relationship.”
I should have hit him twice.
“And rather than admit I hadn’t moved on, I bragged that I was dating someone too. Which was entirely—okay, not entirely, but mostly—your fault.”
“You’re not that impressionable, Rory.”
I am surprised—impressed—she lied to Mrs. Albright. More duplicity than I thought she was capable of.
“Why would you do it? What would you get out of it?”
I raise both eyebrows now. “I told you on Friday—my dad’s being a controlling dick about my trust fund.”
“He’s making you get married to receive your inheritance?”
“Engaged. Like I told you. On Friday.”
She clears her throat, breaking eye contact to check what floor we’re on. “I didn’t—I was drunk.”
I squash a smile. “You had a margarita and a half.”
“Well, I don’t drink very—it’s irrelevant. You’d get money out of it if we pretended to be together?”
“Yes. My dad said he’d cut me off unless I went to law school. Once I graduated, I was supposed to receive my trust fund. That turned into once I took the bar. Then that turned into me getting engaged to a woman he approved of, just to receive half.”
“So,” Rory starts slowly, “your magnanimous offer to pretend you’re in love with me so everyone talks about our unlikely relationship rather than how my ex couldn’t keep his dick in his pants when I wasn’t around was, in fact, a way for you to fool your father into writing you a fat check?”
Basically.
“That is neither how I would describe it nor entirely inaccurate.”
She scoffs.
“We both get something out of it, Rory. That’s what makes it such a great idea.”
She’s silent for a minute. “No one will believe it, Flynn. Especially your father. Announcing an engagement right after he tells you to get engaged is—”
“Exactly what he wants,” I finish. “My dad doesn’t give a shit about my feelings. Me getting engaged after he told me to get engaged is something he’ll approve of. Look, if you want, we can fake date for a couple of months before I fake propose. Ease into things a little.”
“Having to pretend to like you for longer is not an enticement.”
I grin. “That was rude, Florence.”
The doors open, revealing the crowded lobby. There are several other law firms and companies with offices in this building.
I wait, letting Rory exit first. She’s right; I would get more out of this. And it’s not an arrangement I thought she’d ever seriously consider. If she is, I’m going to do everything I can to not mess it up.
It’s too loud to talk in here, overlapping voices echoing off the marble floor and walls, so I follow Rory outside. The busy sidewalk isn’t much quieter, the frenetic pace of New Yorkers sweeping around us like a rapid current. And it’s a lot warmer.
“So, coffee?” I suggest, tugging at my collar for some relief from the heat.
A phone rings. Not mine since it’s not buzzing in my pocket.
Rory pulls hers out, answering immediately. She takes a step away from me, closer to the side of the building, pressing a finger into her other ear so she can hear better. “I filed that first thing this morning,” I hear her say.
My stomach rumbles. I suppress the urge to pull my phone out, too, not sure why I care if Rory thinks I have important matters to attend to as well.
She talks for another minute, then hangs up and returns to my side. “I have to head straight back to my office,” she tells me. “This was a—”
“Let’s meet up this weekend,” I interrupt, guessing mistake was going to be one of her next words.
Rory clears her throat. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“I’ll make sure you get more out of it, okay?
I’ll—after we fake break up, I’ll make sure everyone knows I was the one who fucked it up.
That you were the best thing to ever happen to me.
And, behind the scenes, I’ll play matchmaker.
I’ve spent the past decade partying with most of the guys in this city.
I know who you should consider and who you should avoid. ”
She’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Did you know Carson was cheating before the video came out?”
I recoil like she slapped me. The fuck? “You think I wouldn’t tell you?”
“I don’t know, Flynn. That’s why I’m asking. You’re Kit’s friend, not mine.”
I’m still stunned. I knew Rory had a low opinion of me.
But my going out drinking while she was home studying doesn’t mean I lack a moral compass.
I never thought Carson was worthy of her.
If I’d known what he was up to, I would have absolutely used that information as evidence he wasn’t.
Obviously, Carson didn’t tell her I’d punched him.
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” I state coolly.
Surprise flashes across her face before it returns to a neutral expression. “Because I asked you a question?”
“Because you don’t trust me. Of course I didn’t fucking know he was cheating, Rory. I can’t believe you would even ask me that.”
She bites her bottom lip before saying, “I’m sorry. I—what happened didn’t exactly eliminate my trust issues. But I’m not—I do—if you say you didn’t know, I believe you.”
We lapse into a brief silence that’s interrupted by her phone ringing again. It doesn’t surprise me that Rory is in high demand. She’s probably running that office already.
“I have a workout class on Saturday mornings,” she finally states. “I could meet you after, for lunch?”
“Because you want to or because you feel badly for offending me?”
Rory pulls her phone back out but holds my gaze. “I feel fine. I’ll text you the address.” She raises the phone to her ear as she walks away. “Rory Kensington,” is the last sound I hear before she’s lost in the surrounding crowd.