Page 54 of Pretend To Be Mine

Annika nodded and gestured with her head. She had a strip of glittery lace between her lips.

I spotted the tablet and quickly grabbed it. I pulled up the dresses we were going to be featuring in the show alongside the inspirations for the new designs.

Elizabeth took the tablet and started swiping through the images. She made little sounds that, because I’m that guy, reminded me of sex. To be fair, I had heard some of those noises come out of her mouth while we did the deed.

“This is incredible,” she murmured. “I mean, wow. I can’t believe I’m getting to see this in person. The designs are stunning. Did you do this?”

I shrugged. “I had a hand in it.”

“These are going to be a hit. I love classic looks. And your father always managed to pull off timeless elegance in his designs.”

Everyone told me how much they loved the designs but hearing her say it felt different. It felt real.

“Elizabeth!” one of the other designers called from across the room. “Can you look at this neckline? It’s puckering.”

She glanced at me for permission.

I laughed and nodded. “Go. Help where you can. That’s why you’re here.”

I expected her to be tentative, to need constant guidance. Instead, she dove in like she’d been working Fashion Week her whole life.

I found myself watching her more than the actual fittings. The way she complimented the models even though they were just doing their job had me smiling. I watched as she listened when Annika gave direction, then contributed her own ideas. She looked more beautiful than any of the professional models in the room.

And I was in a room full of barely clothed supermodels.

Any other day, I’d be reviewing each look clinically with a professional eye. Today, I couldn’t take my eyes off Elizabeth. She wasn’t trying to be sexy or alluring. She was just doing what she loved, and it was the most attractive thing I’d ever seen.

“You’re staring,” Dash said, appearing at my elbow with his usual terrible timing.

“I’m observing the fitting process.”

“Uh huh. And by ‘fitting process’ you mean Elizabeth’s ass in those jeans.”

I shot him a look. “Shouldn’t you be managing the tech setup?”

“Already done. Everything’s tested and working perfectly.” He leaned against the wall beside me, following my gaze. “She’s good at this. Like, actually good. Not just playing around. She knows what she’s doing.”

He wasn’t wrong. Elizabeth was currently explaining something about dart placement to a junior designer, using her hands to demonstrate how the fabric should move over the body’s curves.

“Chris told me she was talented,” I said. “I’m starting to think he undersold her. I can’t believe no one has snatched her up. She’s going to be big in this industry.”

“You going to keep her on after this whole fake engagement thing ends?”

After it ends.

Right.

Because this arrangement had an expiration date. In less than a month, Elizabeth and I would stage our amicable breakup, she’d get her job, and we’d go back to being… what? Colleagues? Acquaintances?

The thought made something twist unpleasantly in my gut.

“Of course,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “I promised her a position. I always keep my promises.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Dash’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “I meant are you going to keep her close, or are you going to stick her in some junior role where you never have to see her?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re already in too deep, and we both know it.” He pushed off the wall. “Just figure out what you want before this gets messier than it already is.”