14. Mandy

Icouldn't say that I hated everything about our dinner together. There were moments that felt real, moments that flowed easily as if there hadn't been ten years of separation between us. But there had also been moments where I wanted to die, where I wanted to climb inside of myself and never crawl out.

I twirled the ring on my finger absentmindedly. It was, annoyingly, exactly the kind of ring I would want. A rose gold band, molded to look as though it was made of twigs and wood, little leaves surrounding the dusty olive musgravite stone. I'd never wanted a diamond, and the rarity of this made me wonder just how much he'd forked out for it. It looked like nature, like home, and it was absolutely something I wanted to wear for a lifetime.

Not that I would be.

I wasn't expecting a proposal last night. I knew our deal included a fake engagement, but every part of me wished he'd warned me in advance. It was hard enough being in front of the press for an extended period of time, pretending that I was enjoying our dinner together, but having to fake my excitement for something I'd once dreamed about but now loathed? It was awful, gut-wrenching. I hated it. Faking liking him was hard enough on its own, but faking being in love, accepting a proposal… it was too much. Especially when half the time I just wanted to strangle him.

I needed to constantly remind myself not to latch on to those moments where it felt like it had before, all those years ago. This was one hundred percent fake. The desire I saw in him last night was bogus. I couldn't let it affect me, not again. I was only teasing him to rile him up. Nothing more.

It couldn't be anything more.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Amanda asked, her face screwing up in confusion. "Saying ‘I did it for you' just feels like an excuse, Mandy."

"I know. I have no idea what he meant." I stared down at the ring, the shimmer of it under the soft glow of the restaurant's lights almost hypnotizing. "He said I wouldn't understand and he was right."

Amanda sighed as she plucked a plate off the serving cart, placing it in front of me. The restaurant she ran closed after their afternoon menu to prepare for dinner, and waiters and hostesses were shuffling around us, preparing for the evening service. I'd figured now was as good a time as any to sneak in to see her—with it being closed, the paparazzi couldn't get in to snap their obsessive little photos of me. Amanda was the head chef here, and whenever I showed up like this, she always liked to force-feed me new recipes. I never complained.

"It feels weird wearing something on my ring finger," I mumbled, unable to tear my gaze away from it even with the fancy little portion of gnocchi in front of me. "Doubly weird that it's probably obscenely expensive and I need to be careful."

"Never thought I'd see the day when you got engaged," Amanda snickered, sliding into the seat next to me and stabbing a gnocchi with my fork. She lifted it to my mouth as she made little airplane noises.

I glared at her as I opened my mouth, happily receiving the little parcel of potato and garlic. "I'm hardly engaged," I said around a mouthful of food. "I don't think this counts."

"It counts more than anything else you're likely to do." She popped a gnocchi into her mouth, humming her approval to herself. "If only it were real."

I fake gagged and watched her cheerful expression drop, slight horror taking over. "No, no, that wasn't about the food. The gnocchi is great. It was the idea of actually being engaged to Jackson that made me gag."

"Thank God. You scared me," she chuckled, plucking another plate off the cart and sliding it in front of me. This one looked like calamari, with small bits of breaded something and two dips to choose from.

"Calamari?" I asked.

"Something like that."

"Nope. Absolutely not. Do not serve me rocky mountain oysters, Amanda," I laughed, pushing the plate away . "I have never and will never have a taste for bull testicles."

"But you're engaged to one." She held back her giggles as she reached across, plucking one of the oysters off my plate and popping it into her mouth. So gross. "Seriously, how are you feeling about everything?"

"Like I want to launch myself off of Bear Peak."

"It can't be that bad. It's not like you actually have to marry him," she said, her voice going soft as she realized that I really was struggling.

"No, but I have to spend time with him. Too much time. I have to pretend to be in love with him. And I don't really have another option."

"What, you can't back out?"

"Well, not now. I've already said yes and it's already being printed in the papers. If I had said no, who knows what would have happened to our contract? Who knows if the media would have ever stopped hounding me?" I placed my elbows on the table, burying my face in my hands like a child. "I couldn't say no."

Amanda rubbed my back gently. "You'll get through this. It's only temporary."

"I don't want to get through it," I scoffed. "This is going to be so obscenely hard, Amanda. Especially with my mind playing tricks on me and his incessant cockiness. I know it'll be worth it in the end, I'm sure of that, but I might just entirely destroy myself in the process."

"You won't. I promise. It'll be hard but I'll be here through all of it and so will Harry."

Having them by my side wouldn't fix the anger. It wouldn't fix the sadness, the irritation, the nasty feeling in my gut that had been brewing since we'd kissed in my office. Those were things I'd have to weather on my own, and god fucking dammit, I didn't want to. I didn't want to have to face this. How could I pretend to be in love with him now when ten years ago that was my reality, a reality that ended with my heart being shattered?

My phone pinged in my purse as Amanda's manager stepped up to the table. He mumbled something to her, and she turned to me, an apologetic look on her face. "I'll be right back."

I nodded, watching her step away as I slid my phone out. A text notification from Jackson sat at the top of my screen above all the others from the media that I had ignored.

I'm picking you up at noon tomorrow for a date. Wear pants.

I rolled my eyes at his demand. Absolutely not, I thought, opening up the message to reply to him.

You're coming to my house?

Is that a problem? They already know where you live.

It's fine. Anything I need to know before you arrive? A wedding, perhaps?

Haha. No. Just wear pants.

Amanda reappeared in front of the table, her lips pursed. "I need to get back to the kitchen for a bit. Will you be okay?"

"That's fine," I sighed, gathering my jacket and purse beneath my arm as I stood. "I'll head home. Jackson's just texted me that we're apparently going on a date tomorrow, so at least you'll have good reading material in the following morning's newspaper."

"Oh God. What is it this time?"

"No idea. But I plan to annoy the shit out of him the entire time," I replied, flashing her a grin. "Have a good night." She gave me a quick hug before taking off toward the kitchen at rapid speed.

The way my mind kicked back into overdrive as I left the restaurant nearly made me jump. Every thought came pouring back in, a million possibilities, a thousand ways it could go wrong. I had no idea if it really was worth it, despite what I'd told her, not when my own sense of self was on the line.

The warm glow of the street lamps and the few, quick flashes of a camera lighted my way as I walked back to my car. This was going to be my new normal, at least for a while. I needed to get used to it, and it had to work.

I'd given Jackson what I swore to myself I never would; I'd given him the power to be able to destroy me once again, heart and career. And a part of me, a horribly naive part of me, didn't regret it.