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How did all this happen?
How did I fall in love with someone so quickly? With Grey. The man who’s supposed to help me get on a sugar baby agency so I can meet guys.
A shiver runs down my back. I can’t imagine meeting anyone. If Grey lets me go after this weekend, it will take me a long time to recover. I’ve fallen deep, hard, and fast for him. Disassembling those emotions will be a long and arduous process.
I smooth my hand over my emerald green dress and stretch to my full height. Grey is already downstairs.
As I exit our suite and descend the stairs, anxiety creeps in, making my palms clammy. I’ll meet Tamara tonight, and seeing her will open the door to his past. I’ve searched her online, so I know she's tall, blonde, and drop-dead gorgeous. She’s Grey’s age, too, so she might hate me before I even open my mouth because of my age.
I see a couple of uniformed servers sauntering into the kitchen and jazzy music from an understated three-person band in the back of the living room. I head out to the terrace, where the decor is light and romantic, the light breeze flickering the hundreds of candles in various sizes.
"Sylvie, I love your dress. Is it Versace?" one of Leslie’s bridesmaids I met the day before asks.
“Yes,” I reply, though I’m not sure. I recognized a lot of labels on the dresses Grey bought me, but now, with my nerves all tied up in a pulsing knot, it’s hard to think straight.
“You’re beautiful.”
I let out a breath, and her kind eyes ease my nerves a little. “Thank you. So are you,” I say, though I doubt she needs my reassurance.
I excuse myself and stroll along the terrace, searching for Grey. I find him in a small group of people—a few I already recognize and a couple I don't—possibly the groom's parents. I quietly approach them, and the second he sees me, he cups my elbow and pulls me close.
“Everyone, meet Sylvie,” he says, starting the introductions.
I try hard to remember everyone's names and connections to the family as the conversation resumes. I steal a glance at Grey, and he's looking straight at me. My stomach flutters. I wonder if I know what he’s thinking…
“You look breathtaking,” he whispers.
“That’s a word I don’t hear every day.”
He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Beautiful doesn’t cut it.”
A clearing of a throat.
I look around us, seeing his mom’s coy smile. Then, I realize another woman has joined us. A tall blonde wearing a black cocktail dress that shows off her slim figure.
Grey turns as if he senses her presence. His shoulders stiffen, her effect on him clear in his now taut face. “Tamara. Nice to see you,” he says, his features relaxing a bit.
“Nice seeing you too, Grey. It’s been forever,” she says softly.
His eyes hold hers. “Yes, it has.”
I swallow a lump. Apprehension claws through my chest, leaving my heart raw and wounded.
He still cares about her. It’s obvious in how he reacts to her. The tension he’s trying so hard to dispel. And here I am, the placeholder girlfriend. The fake one. The one who took his breath away only a second ago.
Shit.
I stretch out my hand. "I'm Sylvie. Nice to meet you." I look her straight in the eye and smile. If he's not introducing me, I'm doing it myself.
She shakes my hand. “Pleasure. Tamara,” she says with a refreshing energy I didn’t expect. “I hear you helped Leslie when she had a mishap.”
I nod. "Oh, yes, that. You know, it was a pleasure. Poor thing got so worried, which I understand. I mean, who wouldn't, right?" I thread my fingers together, my usual nervous rambling covering me like a fitted coat. “I guess I was filling in for you since you’re the bridesmaid. Not, as in, with Grey. Though, I guess, I’m doing that too.”
Tamara watches me silently for a beat, probably trying to make sense of my verbal diarrhea, then chuckles. “You’re funny.”
She uses a tone I can’t quite distinguish. Is she being honest or sarcastic? My frantic heartbeat drumming in my ears makes it hard to differentiate.
Funny as in disastrous. Not ha ha ha funny.
