Page 26 of Pretend To Be Mine

“This is Elizabeth Laramie,” he said. “We met through a mutual friend several months ago, and what started as a conversation about design turned into something neither of us expected. She’s brilliant, talented, and somehow, she’s agreed to marry me.”

The room erupted with questions, voices talking over each other.

“When’s the wedding?”

“How long have you been together?”

Adrian held up a hand. “We’re still working out the details, but Elizabeth will be joining me for all the Fashion of Love Week events.”

More questions. More flashes. Adrian fielded all of them. He handled it like he’d been trained in PR. He gave vague but charming answers about our relationship and always deflected when anything got too personal.

I stood there and smiled with a little teeth and no gums while keeping my chin up and looking at a spot on the back wall. I had no idea how the pictures were going to turn out. I hoped I didn’t look like a Stepford wife or a zombie. I blanked out, wondering how much longer the press conference could possibly go on. My mind drifted. I thought about the job I would have once the engagement thing was over. I would make real money, and more importantly, I would have some experience to put on my resume.

“That’s all the time we have for today,” Adrian said, snapping me back to the present. “Thank you all for coming. We’ll see you at the opening night next Friday.”

He guided me back behind the curtain while people shouted more questions.

I stood there, blinking in the sudden quiet, my heart still racing.

“You did great,” Adrian said.

“I was like a deer in the headlights.”

“You were perfect. If you’d been too polished, they would have been suspicious, like you were a mail-order bride or something.”

Mary Jo appeared and pressed a glass of wine into my hand. “You earned this.”

I looked down at the glass of white wine. The last thing I needed was alcohol, but it was exactly what I wanted. I raised it to my lips and drained half of it in one long swallow, then the rest a second later.

“Whoa,” Adrian said, eyebrows rising. “Easy there.”

“I’m good,” I muttered. “That was just to put me back on solid ground.”

He laughed and that’s when I realized I actually said that out loud. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere quiet before the adrenaline wears off and you realize what we just did.”

What we just did.

I looked down at the ring on my finger.

I wasn’t sure I would survive two hours, let alone a month.

9

ADRIAN

We were all riding the high of a successful press conference. I hated doing any kind of media, but even I could admit that was damn good.

I led Elizabeth back up to our offices. My brothers were all sitting in the conference room, the mounted TV on the wall was on a news station with the sound muted. I knew they had all watched the conference from in here.

Dash had his laptop open, scrolling through social media reactions in real-time, a grin spreading across his face. “We’re trending on three platforms. People are eating this up.”

Briggs was on his phone, presumably fielding calls from PR contacts and industry insiders. He gave me a thumbs-up.

Sebastian lounged in one of the chairs, feet propped on the table despite my disapproving glare. “I have to admit you two looked good up there. She’s pretty when she’s not terrified, and you almost seemed human. It was very convincing.”

“It better be convincing,” I said, but I couldn’t deny the relief flooding through me. The press conference had gone well. Better than well, actually. Elizabeth had stumbled a bit, but her nervousness had read as genuine emotion. The reporters had bought it.

We’d actually pulled it off.