Page 35 of Pretend To Be Mine

“Right on schedule,” Briggs said immediately. “All venues confirmed, all contracts signed, all teams briefed. We’re in good shape.”

“The London venue is going to blow people’s minds,” Sebastian added. “We got that manor house I told you about, the one with the fountain with the naked people.”

“Tasteful,” Mom said dryly.

“For the record, I voted for a different venue,” I interjected. “Sebastian overruled me.”

“Because my theme is decadence, brother. You can’t have decadence without a few stone titties.”

Dash snorted into his beer. Briggs looked pained. Mom just sighed.

“Don’t say ‘titties’ at the table,” she said.

“Sorry, Mom,” Sebastian said.

“And Paris?” she asked, redirecting.

“We booked Versailles,” I said. “We locked that down six months ago, worked it all out with the French government.”

“Buck would have loved that.” Mom’s voice caught slightly on Dad’s name. “He always talked about doing a show there.”

“That’s why Briggs chose it,” Dash said. “Each show is a little tribute to Dad. New York is about legacy—Adrian’s hosting because he’s carrying the torch forward. London is about indulgence and luxury—Sebastian’s whole thing. Paris is romance—Briggs the romantic.”

“I’m not a romantic,” Briggs protested. “You all chose that theme without me.”

“And Milan?” Mom asked, cutting off the brewing argument.

“Seduction,” Dash said with a grin. “I’m going to make it hot enough to melt the opera house.”

“Please don’t actually melt a historic building,” I said.

“No promises.”

The conversation flowed easily. For a few minutes, I let myself relax, let the tension ease from my shoulders.

“And how is Elizabeth adjusting? I haven’t met her yet but she seems nice.”

The tension came roaring back. Mom knew about the fake engagement. To say she’d been apprehensive was an understatement. But she understood the reasons and just accepted it with her usual grace.

“She’s fine,” I said carefully. “Adjusting to everything.”

“The press conference went well,” Briggs offered. “She came across as genuine. Nervous, but in an endearing way.”

“The photos are getting great engagement on social,” Dash added. “People love her. The ‘girl next door wins the prince’ narrative is killing it.”

Sebastian was quiet, studying me over his wine glass. I tried to tell him with my eyes to shut his mouth, but Sebastian never listened.

“Adrian’s worried she’s not ready,” he said finally.

All eyes turned to me.

“I didn’t say that,” I protested.

“You didn’t have to. I can see it on your face.” Sebastian leaned back in his chair.

“The photoshoot was a disaster,” I admitted. “She was completely frozen. Every shot looked like she was afraid I was going to eat her.”

“She did fine at training yesterday,” Sebastian said mildly. “Once you left.”