Page 14

Pop?

I’ve known this man for five minutes, and he’s already given me a nickname like we’re best buds. And as far as the mother thing goes, I wouldn’t have a clue. All I know about my mum is what my grandparents have told me.

Nolan smiles smugly, and I get the feeling he enjoys goading his brother. “FYI. You’re still buying me dinner.”

“I’m not,” Bennett counters.

“It’s the least you can do since you’re responsible for this,” he fires back, lifting the arm in the sling.

I gasp. “Your brother broke your arm?”

“No,” Bennett answers. “He broke his arm because his drunk arse thought it would be a good idea to dance on top of the table. Newsflash, it wasn’t; he fell off. Hence why I was at the hospital the day we met.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the one who kept ordering trays of shots to be brought to our table.”

“Nobody forced you to drink them.”

I find myself smiling as I watch the two of them. I’ve always wanted a sibling; it gets lonely being an only child.

“What’s with all the law books?” Nolan asks, pointing to the stack sitting in the centre of the table.

“They’re mine.”

“I gathered that,” he says. “I was wondering if you were in some kind of trouble.”

“What? No.” I shake my head. “I’m in my final year of a law degree. I was studying for an exam last night.”

His eyes widen at my answer before flicking to his brother. “You’re studying to be a lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a particular field you’re interested in?”

“Criminal law.”

Nolan’s eyes return to Bennett, and he gives him a knowing look before tipping his chin. “You should talk to my brother about getting you a job at Sinclair and Associates. Have you heard of them?”

“Obviously. I don’t live under a rock.”

My eyes flicker back to Bennett as I will my gaze to remain on his face. Suddenly, the pieces start falling into place. The expensive clothes, the confidence and the way he carries himself … the friggin’ Lamborghini in the driveway.

My fake plumber boyfriend isn’t just some guy who can’t figure out which valve to turn off. He’s apparently connected to one of the most prestigious law firms in the country. I tried to get a placement there through the university at the beginning of the year, but as predicted, I didn’t even get a look in.

“Do you know someone who works at Sinclair and Associates?” I ask.

Nolan barks out a laugh. “Dear sweet, Poppy, my brother, Bennett Sinclair, owns Sinclair and Associates.”

“Holy shit,” I mumble. “I actually did a thesis on one of your cases in my first year at uni.”

“Which one?” Bennett asks.

“McMullen, of course. The trial that everyone said was unwinnable, yet you somehow managed to turn it on its head.”

He gives a small nod, like he’s somewhat impressed, but that’s all I get. No modest smile or dramatic reaction. It leaves me feeling underwhelmed, if I’m honest.

I can’t believe my fake boyfriend is the man I’ve secretly admired for years. In my head, I’d pictured him older. Someone more intimidating. Someone who could walk into a courtroom and convince a jury of anything.

Then again, he had no trouble convincing my grandmother that we were dating, and despite her age, she’s always been sharp as a tack.