Page 59 of Fake it for Keeps

She jotted down notes at lightning speed. “And the wedding party? How many bridesmaids and groomsmen?”

“None,” Colt and I said simultaneously.

It was the first thing we’d agreed on all day.

Victoria’s eyebrows rose. “No wedding party at all?”

“We want to keep it simple,” I said, finding my voice for the first time all morning. “Intimate.”

“Intimate with two hundred guests,” Victoria said dryly, but she made another note. “Alright. That actually simplifies a lot of things. No rehearsal dinner needed, no coordination of dresses and tuxes.”

She went on, but I was barely listening. Two hundred guests. Two hundred people who would watch us lie to their faces and believe this was real. The weight of it was crushing.

“Table settings,” Victoria said, pulling out samples. “We have several options. Classic white linens, or we could do something with color?”

“White,” Colt said. “With gold accents.”

“Centerpieces we already have from the florist.” Victoria was tapping away on her laptop with her tablet on the other side. The woman took multi-tasking to a whole new level. “What about lighting?”

“String lights overhead,” Colt said. “Make it romantic but not over the top.”

Decision after decision, Colt made them all, barely pausing for breath. Font for the invitations. Design for the programs. Color of the table runners. Type of chairs for the ceremony.

I felt like I was a ghost in the room no one could see.

“Hallie?” Victoria’s voice cut through my haunting thoughts. “What do you think about the seating arrangement? Colt suggested long tables, but we could also do rounds⁠—”

“I don’t care.” I realized I sounded like him talking to his people. Sharp. A little rude. Dismissive. “Whatever Colt wants is fine.”

Victoria looked between us, clearly sensing tension.

Colt’s jaw tightened. “Long tables,” he said to Victoria. “We’ll go with long tables.”

“Wonderful. Let me just notes that down.”

“I need some air,” I said, standing abruptly. “Can we take a break?”

“We’re almost done here,” Colt said, his voice tight with frustration. “Just a few more decisions.”

“I need a break.” I grabbed my purse. “I’ll be right back.”

I fled to the hallway, leaning against the wall and trying to breathe. This was too much. All of it. The decisions, the planning, the pretending. The way Colt was treating me like I didn’t exist.

He followed me out a minute later, his expression thunderous. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

“I’m overwhelmed,” I said. “Is that allowed? Or is that not in the contract?”

“We have a schedule.”

“Screw your schedule!” My voice rose. “I need a break, Colt. From all of this. From you.”

His expression hardened. “Fine. Take the afternoon off. I’ll handle the cake tasting myself.”

“I need more than an afternoon.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them. “I need to get away. Just for a night. To clear my head.”

“I can arrange something,” he said stiffly. “There’s a spa upstate, very exclusive. I’ll have them prepare a suite.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t want luxury. I don’t want exclusive. I want the opposite of all this.”