14. Clothing Mishap

Jane

"Thank you," Colton says once Amanda leaves and it's just the two of us outside. "You did a great job with the interview."

I smile. "You too. You're not too bad at improv after all."

"I just followed your lead. Plus, I didn't have to lie much."

His words hang between us, sucking all the oxygen from the air. Suddenly, I'm short of breath. The lingering doubt about him lying during the interview has just been crushed, and I'm not sure how I feel about it. Or at least, I wish I'd feel differently. Why can't we control our feelings? It's beyond annoying.

"Anyway," he says, looking away, "thanks. You really saved us back there. Refusing the interview would have been suspicious."

I nod. "That's what I was thinking."

"And I apologize that we weren't informed about it. Max definitely didn't say anything about an interview—"

"Don't fire him, please," I cut in. "He seems like a decent guy. I'm sure it was just an honest mistake."

A shadow falls over his face as he stares at me, then down to his shoes. "Do you really think I'm the type of guy to fire a loyal employee like Max over something like this?"

"No. I mean, I don't know. We're still getting to know each other."

He clenches his jaw. "Well, that's not me. While I prefer when my employees to be efficient, I also know they're only human. Plus, I'm eternally grateful to Max for everything he's doing for me right now. Uh-oh," he adds, peering over my shoulder. "I think it's time for dinner. We'd better go. Agnes isn't quite as indulgent as I am." He winks, and that makes me giggle.

Yeah, I was right. Colton Green is really not that bad.

Ten minutes later, we're gathered at the dinner table, and the roasted chicken and potatoes Agnes prepared are to die for. If I keep eating like this, I'm going to need new clothes soon.

"It's delicious," I say, smiling at Agnes.

"Thank you," she replies, stealing a glance at my ring as I take another bite. She's been doing that a lot tonight, but I don't blame her. I can't help gawking at it either. It's so sparkly that it catches every sliver of light around the room no matter how small.

"So," Colton says, wiping his mouth. "We're going to a charity gala next week, and there's our engagement party coming up a few days after that. If you want, you can take one of the cars and go shopping. I'm not volunteering to come with you," he quickly adds. "But both events will be well-attended, and those kinds of things are always grand affairs, so you might want some new clothes. I got you a credit card, of course." He reaches for his wallet in his suit pocket.

"Oh, no. I don't need to go shopping." I take another bite of that juicy chicken. I like my clothes, and I even have some famous labels in my closet. After years of living in the land of "fake it till you make it," I've mastered the art of thrift store shopping. There are a lot of second-hand stores here. I've heard rich people never wear the same thing twice.

"Okay." He still places the black credit card next to my plate. "If you change your mind, it's here. And the keys for each car are hung in the garage. Agnes can show you, if you need."

"Mmm, thanks," I say, polishing off my plate. Yeah, as if I'm going to take one of his cars. If I crash it, I'll have to stay married to him for years before I can pay him back.

My heart leaps at the thought, and an idea flashes through my mind. For a nanosecond, I think that wouldn't be so bad.

Tonight is the charity gala for the Children's Hospital. Even if it's a public outing in a world I know nothing about, I'm still excited to go. After submitting my resume to a few casting calls, I worked on creating the perfect persona for Colton's soon-to-be wife. I miss acting, so this is a golden opportunity. And if it can help me create a clear division between aspiring actress Jane and Jane, Colton's fiancée, all the better. The last thing I need is getting the two mixed up.

"Are you ready?" Colton's voice booms through the living room, startling me.

My hand jumps over my heart. "You scared me," I say, getting up from the couch where I'd been waiting while he finished getting ready. He returned from work half an hour ago, so he needed to shower and get dressed. My pulse hammers even harder when I lay eyes on him. I've seen him in suits, but the tuxedo is better. Way better. The glistening black fabric makes him look like a movie star about to go to a big premiere. His hair is styled to perfection, and his face is as flawless as usual. He's exactly the kind of heartthrob every girl would be swooning over.

"You look . . ." he begins, his lips pulled downward in a slight frown.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I glance down at my outfit. Maybe I should have accepted his offer to go shopping. I was confident when I put this together—okay, maybe not that confident, but confident enough. I'm wearing a beige satin dress that stops mid-thigh and features an off-shoulder neckline. I found it at a thrift store two years ago, but I've never had the occasion to wear it. Despite being Burberry, it was cheap and way too pretty to leave behind.

"I can change," I mutter, already walking toward my wing, but he takes my hand to stop me. Sparks fly in every direction, and I squeeze his hand to keep from stumbling.

His silver eyes solidify with intensity. "Don't. You look . . . It's good. You're beautiful."

"Thanks," I say, my cheeks warming. "You look handsome too."

We stare into each other's eyes for a second, and to any onlooker, it wouldn't be hard to believe we were a real couple about to head out on a date. But it's not real, and there's no one looking.

Or is there? A ruffle of clothing carries through the living room, making us both jerk our heads toward the noise. There's no one there.

"Should we go, then?" he asks, turning back to me.

"Yeah, let's do this."

The charity gala is being held in an opulent hotel atop a hill. The ambiance is immediately welcoming with soft lighting, low music, and white-gloved servers who seemingly glide across the room, ready to refill any empty glass.

Colton offers me a flute of champagne, then guides me around the large ballroom. His hand is pressed to the small of my back, distracting me from the part I'm supposed to be playing. He diligently introduces me to everyone at the event, and I'm surprised he knows all these people. He never has anyone over or talks about having friends. All he does is work. But since a lot of the guests tonight are people he knows from work or through networking at business-related events, it does make some sense.

"Richard," he says, shaking the hand of a sixty-something man who reminds me way too much of Santa Claus. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"Life's been busy. But you know how it is," he says, his eyes landing on me. There's a warm smile on his lips.

"I do," Colton says, his eyes gleaming. "This is my fiancée, Jane Myers."

I shake Richard's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise. I heard you met on that app of yours," he adds, turning to Colton. "So, it really works, eh?"

Colton chuckles, and I play along until his hand finds the small of my back again. My body goes rigid, my mind freezing over as his touch becomes the only thing I can focus on.

"Been telling you for years, Richard. Trust me," he says, fixing his gaze on me. "It works."

Swallowing to wet my dry throat, I look back at Richard and nod. "Oh, yeah. This guy is a genius."

"Huh. Maybe I'll consider it," Richard says. "So, where are you from, Jane? What do you do?"

Oh, here we go. "I'm from Oregon," I say with practiced ease. "Moved here to become an actress. I've had some luck here and there, but it's a competitive business."

"Yes, it is," Richard says with a knowing nod. "You said your name was Myers. As in Myers Copper, Inc.?"

I force a light giggle. "Oh, no. My family is much more modest. Loving and caring, but not as financially blessed. Your typical middle-class family. Mom's a teacher and Dad a mechanic."

Richard chuckles politely, and Colton rubs circles on my back, sending my heart into freefall. He throws me a look I'm having a hard time deciphering. Surprise, maybe? I guess I should have told him about my new backstory.

Richard and Colton start talking business, and I seize the opportunity to excuse myself, retreating to the restrooms. My bladder's been killing me since my second glass of champagne.

"Jane," a tall blond says, her manicured hand falling on my arm.

"Hi, Stephanie." I smile, proud of my impeccable memory. Colton introduced her earlier as a business owner who owns a cosmetics brand. She's standing with a girl I haven't met before. The second girl has her hair pinned up in a fancy updo, and she's wearing a long black dress.

"I wanted to introduce you to Paula. She just arrived."

"Hi," Paula says with a fake smile. "Sorry I'm late. I was at a photoshoot, but I didn't want to miss meeting the woman who managed to steal Colton's heart."

"Oh. Nice to meet you," I say before proceeding to the bathroom.

"Wait," Paula says, a hint of laughter in her voice. "Isn't that my old Burberry dress?" Her words melt into a full cackle.

I freeze. Damn it. "Mmm. I don't think so," I mumble before trying to escape again. But she's not having it.

"Sure it is," she says. "Here's the stitch I made on a yacht trip in Santorini a few years ago." She tugs my shoulder until I turn around, and I feel her hand on the back of my neck. Why did I have to wear my hair up? "You got this from a charity shop, right? I told my assistant to donate a bunch of stuff to the poor."

My cheeks go numb as the blood drains from my face. I don't know how to answer her, because she's mostly right. It was a consignment shop, not a charity store, but that doesn't change the fact that it is a second-hand dress. Why didn't I think of the possibility this might happen? Because there are 3.8 million people living in this city, so the odds were incredibly slim. But here we are. Shame courses through my veins, and I notice Colton's curious look from all the way across the room. Being embarrassed is something I can handle, but I don't want my stupidity to reflect badly on Colton.

Without another word, I scurry to the restrooms as tears pool in my eyes.