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“Our parents wanted us to be independent and learn to take care of ourselves. They’re French expats who made it big through hard work and dedication.”
“You’re French?” Looks like French people are warm and nice like any other nationality.
Marcie shakes her head. “Our parents are, but we were all born here.”
Maybe that’s where the difference lies?
“So, once we graduated, they loaned us some money and told us to figure it out, basically,” Jules adds. “Their way of teaching us hard work.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing.
“It’s good,” Jules says, as if reading my mind. “They want us to succeed, not sit on the couch all day because we have an inheritance waiting for us.”
“That’s a smart way to teach hard work,” I say.
Before they can reply, the server returns with our food, and it smells heavenly. Creamy linguine pasta with a twist of lemon. The girls were right; it’s delicious.
“So, how did you meet Colton?” Jules asks, her eyes sparkling.
I chuckle. “On his app. I made a profile, and we matched. We dated for a while, and when he proposed, the choice was obvious.”
“A true love story,” Marcie sighs with a beaming smile, and I force myself to return it.
After we’re done eating, we stroll to the stores next door for some shopping. I’m not ecstatic at the idea of using Colton’s credit card, but I know this is as much for him as it is for me. I’ll donate all the clothes to charity when I’m finished playing this part. The girls are great shopping companions, and they help me find a few good options for both casual and evening wear, including a gorgeous dress for the engagement party. As we exit the third store, Marcie gasps and places a hand in front of her face.
“What?” Jules asks, glancing around.
“Lewis Morgan and Kelly McDonald are here,” she says, hustling away in the opposite direction.
On our left is a twenty-something couple. The guy is wearing a leather jacket and biker boots, and the girl a neon-green tube dress. They’re gazing through a shop window.
“Oh, so that’s Lewis Morgan!” Jules muses, her eyes widening.
“Shh!” Marcie says, grabbing her sister’s arm and dragging her away. Once we’ve put some distance between our group and the couple, she stops. “Could you be a bit more discreet?”
“Sorry,” Jules says. “I’ve been hearing about him for years. Glad I finally got to put a face to the name. He’s a hottie.”
“Oh, is this someone you have a crush on?” I ask, catching the vibe. And Jules is right, that guy was super cute.
Marcie makes a gagging sound. “Puh-lease. I do not have a crush on Lewis Morgan. I hate the guy. He’s persona non grata in our household.”
Jules shakes her head, casting me a glance. “He’s Dean’s nemesis. It started when he took his spot on the football team in college, and it never really stopped. I was already out of UCLA by then, so I never got to meet him in the flesh. Thus, my excitement.”
“Oh, I see.” Though I’m having a hard time believing the blush on Marcie’s face is because she just came across her brother’s enemy.
“I didn’t think I’d see him again now that the semester is over,” Marcie says, not coming down to reality. “Caught me off guard. Anyway, should we hit one more store before going home?”
She’s feigning nonchalance, but I see the way her chest is heaving with each breath. I’m pretty sure her heart is rattling in her chest, just like mine did when Colton rubbed my back at the charity gala.
17
Monopoly
Colton
I’m not mad that tonight’s business dinner got canceled. I didn’t want to go in the first place. As always. No matter how much I’m exposed to this culture of professional socializing, it doesn’t get any less boring.
When I get home, the scent of French toast fills my nostrils, and I’m already salivating. Agnes has the night off, which can only mean one thing. Jane is cooking.
