Chapter 25

25

ELLA

Allain Bouchelle breezes in on an air of having billions in his bank account or it could be that his collar is too stiff.

I’ve seen people like him at the resort and they can never fully let themselves relax in a chaise lounge or plunge into the depths to see the underwater world because they’re waiting for a business call or have to dial into a meeting.

I realize now it’s because they have something to lose. A lot of somethings that they value more than whatever is right in front of them. Not to say we shouldn’t look after our earnings, but there’s more to life, namely relationships, and I glean Jack and his father don’t have a great one.

Aston trails behind her husband, talking loudly on her phone.

Allain pulls out the chair for her and she stares into the middle distance, laughing at whatever the caller says. I catch his veneer slip.

“Aston, baby, please join us,” Allain coos in a voice that sounds one octave away from paternal .

Jack was taking a sip of water and nearly spews it all over the table. “Did you seriously just call her baby?”

“Nice to see you too, son.”

Aston gives Jack a dirty look. “When he calls me darling, it makes me feel old.”

He turns to me and says, “Darling, you’ve met my father.”

“Nice to see you again, sir,” I say, trying to suppress laughter at Jack throwing shade at the couple—from what I‘ve seen so far, it‘s not entirely undeserved.

Mr. Bouchelle barely nods at me.

Jack continues, “This is Baby . I mean Aston.”

Her glare at her stepson deepens before she turns to me, likely seeing that I’m younger than she is. It’s probably only by a few years, but it’s hard to tell because she’s had some cosmetic help of the semi-to-permanent variety.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say warmly.

She gives me a full-length survey with judgy eyes and makes a little thh sound.

Well, okay. Never mind feeling underdressed, which I do, I feel ill-equipped. It’s like I brought a wooden spoon to a bake-off—I love those shows and wish I were home watching one. If I had a home.

My go-to move with girls like her is to make myself invisible, but we’re seated across from each other at the table. I paste on a smile as if that immediate dismissal from the Bouchelle family didn’t happen.

Addressing his father, Jack, still hung up on the pet name, says, “You always called Mom darling .” Then, turning to me, he asks, “Does me calling you darling make you feel old or like my mother, Ella?”

I suppress a smile. “No, it’s lovely.” I belatedly realize I’ve just made myself an enemy if Aston is paying attention, but I shouldn’t care. I’m here to be in Jack’s corner as his fake fiancée.

He slides his napkin onto his lap. “Also, there’s a no phone at the dinner table rule.”

Clutching her device, Aston continues to tap away.

“That was when you were a kid,” Allain says.

“Babies, kids, all the same, if you ask me. They should have restrictions on access to technology until they’re older.” Jack leans back in his chair.

I find myself nodding.

The server takes our drink order and while Aston remains distracted by her phone, Allain and Jack discuss his decision to join the Knights.

Allain says, “I think it’s a bad move. You have a business to inherit.”

Aston goes still as if her ears picked up on this part of the conversation.

“Dad, to be real, I have a few more years in me. You’re not passing the torch just yet.”

“Aston wants me to work less.”

“So she can sit next to you while on her phone?” Jack asks.

She sets it on the table with a little more force than necessary. “I’m just looking after his health. Stress isn’t good for someone his age.” She rubs the side of her hand on his cheek.

“Are you saying my father is old? Look at him, the man is in his prime,” Jack says, taking a sip of water, likely to keep himself from saying more.

“You’re just jealous because his attention is on me now,” Aston says with a pout.

“No, I get plenty of attention from my pops, along with unrequested offers about what to do with my life, relationships, and career.”

I’ d do almost anything to explain my current situation to my dad and have him understand, offer advice, or hug me.

Jack and Aston go back and forth until Allain pounds the table with his fist and says, “Children.”

“Then you admit it,” Jack says, inadvertently having the final word in this verbal sparring match.

Feeling uncomfortable, I excuse myself to the ladies’ room. Unfortunately, Aston follows me. I go into a stall while she reapplies her lipstick.

Through the door, she says, “I’m surprised we’ve never crossed paths. But of course, you’ve seen me @QueenAston. I’m a super influencer. We’re the new supermodels, you know. Anyway, how’d you hook him?”

In the stall, I stare up at the ceiling, wishing Leah were here, she’d know what to say. I don’t need help with table etiquette, having observed enough fancy meals at the resort to learn the ropes, but navigating the social minefield of high society is another matter altogether.

I don’t answer until after I wash my hands. Looking her directly in the eyes, I say, “Actually, he hooked me.”

Her expression slips into confusion for a second. “Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.”

My stomach somersaults. I blink a few times as comprehension tumbles my way. “You’ll pay me to go away?” I ask, completing the offer.

“Keep up, Ella. If that’s your real name. This is a big girl game you’re playing.”

I lift my eyebrows and then quickly plaster on a thin smile. “Pardon? I didn’t hear you over the sound of how much I don’t care.”

Her mouth drops and then just as quickly puckers into a tight ball.

Before she can fire back, I add, “Also, I don’t play games or follow rules.” No, I break laws, including illegally residing at her husband’s resort. I hope she doesn’t find out about that.

She glares. “I already have the ring and I’m going to wear the crown. I’m first in line, so don’t get any foolish ideas about cutting.” She shoves past me and back into the dining room, but stops short, looking at something on her phone, nearly causing me to stumble.

I may not be part of her freeloading career, but I know fake when I see it. I also know mean girl and now I’m on her list. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

As I approach the table, Allain’s voice reaches my ears before he abruptly goes quiet. The words I heard, which I’ll never forget, are, I don’t want my son to marry a nobody.

Without skipping a beat, Jack draws me to his side. Wearing a grin I’m not sure how to gauge, he announces, “There she is. My future wife. Dad, Aston, we have big news. Ella and I are getting married.”

They’re both dead quiet, only highlighting the clinking and chatter in the restaurant.

Why do I like the idea of us so much? I have to remind myself that this is all fake. He’s paying my father’s medical bills. I’m giving his public image an Rx. It’s a mutually beneficial agreement. That’s all.

Then why do I feel like a balloon with too much helium and am about to pop?