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  “Wh—” she swallowed the rest of her words, but I knew what she was asking. What did they say?

  “Grandad was telling Dad he didn’t feel comfortable lying to me about my inheritance anymore, knowing Grandma had intended for me to have the chance to meet the stipulations and receive it all on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

  “Stipulations?” Her eyes rounded. “There are stipulations?”

  “Apparently so. I felt my stomach sink when I heard those words, too, let me tell you. My ears perked up like Grandpa’s old coonhound, Beauregard’s, on hunting trips, and I forgot all about Bobby as I focused my attention on what he was saying.” I took a sip of my drink to wet my throat and kept going, seeing the impatience and curiosity in her blue-green gaze. “He told Dad he was gonna tell me everything, and Dad broke in, moaning about how he wouldn’t be able to continue to take care of my mom in the manner she was accustomed to if they didn’t get half of my trust fund. He protested that most of the money she left Mom was gone—”

  “How?”

  I shrugged, “I don’t know. He didn’t say. Then he started claiming I didn’t need a billion dollars plus interest at barely twenty-five years-of-age, and insisting that I wouldn’t miss half of it—”

  “What? But that’s your—” I heard her teeth clink when she once again realized she was speaking instead of listening and closed her mouth.

  “I know—it’s my inheritance, and it isn’t my fault he apparently blew through Mom’s. I agree.” I fought a smile when she nodded furiously. “Anyway, to finish what I was saying, Grandpa assured my father that I was a good kid, and that I’d help out before I’d let them suffer, and insisted that I needed the opportunity to meet the stipulations of the will—and my dad goes, ‘Fine, go ahead, old man, do what you gotta do—it isn’t like it’ll be easy for him to find a girl and get married before he turns twenty-five, so I’ll still get my way in the end.’”

  “Oh noes!” Her face fell, “You turn twenty-five in a little over a month! What happens if you fail?”

  “Apparently, Dad and Mom get half of the money and, except for my monthly stipend, I can’t touch the balance until I’m thirty—and, even worse, I’d have to spend the whole five years between my birthday and then working in the family business.”

  “But—what about college and your master’s degree in Computer Engineering?” I thought for sure she was going to break down and cry, “You’ll get your degree at the end of next semester and you’ve worked so hard!”

  I shrugged, sighing and fighting to hide my feelings on the subject—a feat made even more difficult by the shimmer of tears in her eyes. “I might have to drop out or find a way to finish up online.”

  “And that’s why you told Tiffy Chambers we were engaged?”

  “Not exactly.” She tipped her head in obvious confusion, but I continued to talk, knowing she’d understand faster if I did. “Remember when I said Bobby was listening, too? Well, apparently he got it in his head that if he spread the word around Shreveport and Bossier that I had to get married or lose half of my inheritance, no one would have anything to do with me…”

  “Oh noes!” She covered her mouth with both hands.

  “You’re obviously way smarter than Bobby because you already see where this is going—”

  “Gee, thanks,” her voice was as droll as her expression at that point.

  I felt my cheeks heat up at my faux pas, and I grimaced at the imaginary taste of feet as I removed both of my size twelves from my mouth, “You know what I mean, Juliet.”

  “Yeah, I know what you meant. No offense taken.” She laughed it off, “So, now you have every eligible female of legal age chasing you all over town on both sides of the river.”

  “Not just the eligible ones,” I grumbled my reply, face-palming to express my annoyance. “He’s pissed, too—like it’s my fault they’re after me.”

  “What an idiot. Wow.” She shook her head. “And that’s why you told her we were engaged?”

  “Well, I didn’t exactly tell her. She was hinting at trying to fix me up with her older sister, Melody—”

  “Eww, I don’t like her.” She made a sour face. “She’s a bigger bitch than Tiffy is.”

  “That’s exactly what I was thinking, so I said, ‘I don’t think so—me and Juliet have—‘ and that was all I got out before she started squealing about how she always knew you and I would end up married and congratulating me on our engagement. I never got another chance to say anything before she ran off to ‘spread the wonderful news’ to the masses.”

  “Oh, wow—” her jaw dropped, “you know, that is so like her, too. She’s like a bulldog—once she gets going with something she doesn’t let go.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  She gets a contemplative look in her expressive eyes. “So, if we got married, you’d get your trust fund on your birthday and get to finish your degree, wouldn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” That’s me—the broken record. To add to the effect, I bobbed my head like one of those bobble-head dogs you sometimes see in older cars on the dash. “But, that’s okay—it doesn’t matter. Not if it’s making your life hell. If you give me time, I’ll get—”

  “My ring? Yeah, why don’t we just go take care of that right now? Kay’s Jewelry is open late. We’ll grab me some bling for that finger and then you can take me to dinner to show it off.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I know I don’t have to,” she interrupted me again, “but I want to. I mean, who is your dad and that lawyer more likely to believe you realistically got engaged to? Your best friend or some bimbo off the streets?”

  Realizing she had a good point, I leaned over and bear-hugged her. “Thanks—you don’t know what this means to me.”

  “You’re welcome—and that’s what friends are for, silly. You’d do it for me.”

  I’d do anything for you. I didn’t have the balls to say it. Instead, I pulled her up and we headed out the door, destined for Kay Jewelers

  Chapter Four

  Juliet

  ∞∞∞

  “Good evening! What can I help you find today?” The gentleman on the other side of the display cases beamed at us.

  I glanced at Geoff, feeling inexplicably tongue-tied for reasons I couldn’t explain even to myself.

  He stepped in, smoothly taking over, “We’d like to look at your engagement rings, please.”

  “Very good, sir. You’ve come to the right place.” The salesman started to pull out a tray with smaller diamonds—maybe one carat and smaller if I had to guess. They looked fine to me.

  “Not those,” Geoff stopped him, pointing at a tray with stones three times bigger. “Those.”

  “Geoff!” I gasped, feeling the blood drain from my head as if a plug had been pulled elsewhere in my body, “I don’t need anything that big.”

  He didn’t listen. It was almost like he didn’t hear me…or maybe he just didn’t choose to hear me. Their heads were huddled together over the sparkling tray and they were murmuring over carat weight and a bunch of other stuff that went right over my head. Feeling woozy around all that sparkle, I just stood quietly, trying not to panic until—

  “Juliet!”

  “Hmm?” I blinked, dazed.

  “I was asking your opinion on this one.”

  I lowered my gaze and stared at the stunning ring he was holding out. It had a clear diamond center stone that looked to be at least two carats—it was huge—and two smaller diamonds on each side of it. The two blue diamonds closest to the center stone were each half its size and the two green diamonds beside those were maybe half their size, too. All five stones were set in what looked like either white gold or platinum. I couldn’t help it. I gasped. It was the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen.

  “I, uhh, it-it’s beautiful,” I stumbled over the words.

  “Try it on.” He slid it on my finger, gliding over each knuckle, until it was all the way on. “Do you like it?”<
br />
  I blinked up at him, “Yes, of course…I’d be crazy not to, but—”

  “Great! We’ll take it.”

  We’ll take it. The words bounced around inside my head. We’ll take it. I panicked. My lungs froze and I couldn’t breathe. Without oxygen, I grew weaker until my knees buckled, and the world went dark.

  The next thing I knew, I was coming to on a snowy white chaise lounging couch in a small room without windows. The only things in the room were the couch and a delicate black metal and glass table and one of those boobie lights on the ceiling. “Where am I?”

  “In a private showing room in the back.”

  I let my eyes roam around, relieved to see no one else but him, and brushed my hair out of my face. “What happened?”

  “You fainted.” He held up a small Styrofoam cup of water so I could take a sip. “How are you feeling?”

  “Wha—I don’t faint!” Then I saw the ring sparkling on my finger and the last two hours came rushing back. Suddenly I understood the phrase ‘their life flashed before their eyes’ because it happened that fast. “Oh!”

  Seeing my gaze on the ring, he offered, “After I carried you back here, he took my card and rang it up for us.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah, you said that already,” he teased.

  I stuck my tongue out, but then his words sank in and I jerked upright. “You carried me? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

  “You’re as light as a feather.”

  “Uh huh,” I rolled my eyes. “We both know better.”

  When I didn’t feel dizzy or show any other symptoms of collapsing again he bounced to his feet. “Ready to go show off the ring?”

  I tilted my hand from side to side, dazzled by the sparkles set off by the tiniest changes in the light. “What were you thinking when you bought this?” I kept my voice casual, giving no indication of the way my heart was pounding inside my chest.

  He studied the floor. My attention was still on the ring—or so I tried to make it seem—but I could still see him from the corner of my vision, and he was staring at the plush white carpet like it held the secrets to the universe. “We want it to be believable, don’t we? Like you said, you’re the only one my family might believe I honestly proposed to. They would expect me to go all out on a ring. If I got you some pinhead-sized cereal box diamond alarms would go off because that’s not who I am. Only the best for my girl.”

  Only the best for my girl. If only. A mixture of anger and hurt filled me and I leapt to my feet, ignoring the hand he held out to assist me. Stalking toward the only exit, I tossed back over my shoulder, “Well, by all means, let’s go show this monstrosity off so word can get back to your family and set the wheels in motion. We only have a few weeks to do this up right. Time’s wasting.”

  He followed me out the door where I realized I had no clue how to get back to the front. As if realizing my dilemma, he took the lead without a word, and soon had us back in the glitzy showroom.

  “Ah, good, so glad to see you feeling better,” the sales guy stumbled over himself, bowing and scraping after what I had no doubt was an impressive commission for him. “Please do come back if you need anything else in the future and I’ll be happy to help.”

  Like wedding rings, I presumed. Dollars were probably dancing in his head like Christmas sugar plums. The joke’s on him, though, I thought to myself, cuz Geoff doesn’t want to marry me. He just wants to get the ladies to leave him alone and get control of his inheritance so he can graduate like he planned. This ring on my finger is just a means to an end. Not bothering to respond out loud, I threw the door open and hurried to the car to wait for him to disengage the alarm and unlock the doors.

  Chapter Five

  Geoff

  ∞∞∞

  I eyed her unobtrusively as I tapped the button to disengage the security system on my Mustang and opened her door. I could almost see steam coming from her ears—but why? What did I do? I thought back over our time inside the jewelry store. When he went for the tiny diamonds, obviously pegging me for a poor college schlub with a few hundred dollars to spare for a ring, I corrected him—but I did it nicely. If we were going to do this, and we were, I wanted her to have a show piece on her finger. Was that so wrong?

  Was she upset over the ring? Was that it? Did she feel it was too much? I chose it because it reminded me of her eyes, but I couldn’t tell her that. The center diamond was crystal clear, completely colorless, and flawless, a perfect engagement ring stone—while the smaller flanking diamonds were blue and green, with the blue having hints of green and the green having a touch of blue, just like her eyes, depending on her mood. Like at that moment, for example, sitting inside the car—they were greener with a swirl of blue like the ocean during a storm. Later, when she was calm and happy, they’d be the opposite…blue with a bit of green like the waters lapping at the pristine sands of a relaxing tropical beach.

  I almost missed it, tucked away like it was, in a corner of the display case. If I hadn’t been eyeing a pretty three carat princess cut ring at the edge of the tray, I would have overlooked it. As it was, I almost didn’t talk him into letting me buy it. A former salesman had designed the ring months prior and when it hadn’t sold it had been designated as unsellable and was scheduled to be recycled for parts. He had to call the owner at home and get permission to sell it to me, and a price to let it go for—and I was proud to say I got it for a steal of a deal. The owner was so relieved to have a buyer for it they sold it to me for the cost of the radiant cut center stone, basically throwing the other four diamonds and the platinum band in for free—thirty-five thousand dollars for what would have been at least a hundred thousand dollar ring, easy.

  Unable to figure out what I’d done and more than a little pissed that she didn’t appreciate my efforts, I grabbed the bull by the horns. “Did I do something wrong?”

  She blinked, fluttering her lashes like I’d startled her. “Huh?” She cleared her throat, “Wha-what do you mean?”

  “I mean I’d have to be blind to miss the fact that you’re in a mood—but I can’t for the life of me figure out what I did to cause it. Was it because I carried you when you passed out? No? Is it the ring? Do you hate the ring? You don’t hate the ring. Okay, then I’m clueless. What did I do wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She waved her hand at me like she was brushing me off. “You didn’t do anything. It’s not you—it’s me. I’m…in a mood. It’ll blow over.”

  Was she saying it was shark week? I studied her, not dumb enough to ask. I’ve seen what happens to guys who assume the females around them are PMS-ing. Whether they are or not it never ends well. I decided to sidestep it.

  “Do you still want to go to dinner?”

  She ran her fingers through her hair, mussing it and giving it an I just got out of bed tousled vibe. It was sexy as hell and I had to shift in my seat, almost missing her reply.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?” I felt one of my eyebrows climb up my forehead despite the fact that I knew she hated when I did it. It wasn’t like I did it on purpose, and we both knew she was just jelly because she couldn’t do it.

  “Quit it.” She gave me the stink eye. “I said yes, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but it was the way you said it—kind of like I’d say yes to English peas.”

  I watched her bite her lips to hide a smile. “You hate English peas. I don’t hate the idea of going to dinner with you.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “I hate the situation you’re in. I hate that you’re trapped into pretending to be engaged to me to keep the gold diggers off your case—and I really hate that we have to lie to your family and get married just so you can get what was left to you and not be forced to drop out of school.”

  “Do you want to call it off? We can…just say the words.”

  She dropped her head back against the headrest. “No, I don’t want to call it off. It’s only until after you turn twenty-five and g
et control of the trust fund. After that, we’ll figure something out. Maybe we’ll have a lover’s quarrel or something. I’ll throw the rings at you, demand a divorce, and leave, slamming the door dramatically behind me and roaring off—”

  “On your moped? I don’t think mopeds roar. Neeeeee—” I attempted to imitate the high-pitched whine of the little scooters and pretended to hold an imaginary set of handlebars, hoping to make her giggle, while simultaneously trying to ignore the sharp pang in the region of my heart at the thought of her removing the ring and ending our upcoming fake marriage.

  “Ass,” she giggled. “Where do you want to go? You want to see and be seen…let’s see—2Johns? Mabry House? Ernest’s? Pick one…they’re all popular.”

  “If we were just going to eat, I’d say The Cub Lounge—I love their steaks and their drinks.”

  “Oooh,” her eyes rounded as she licked her lips, “they’re awesome, too—one of my favorites—I love the steak and au gratin potatoes. But could we get a table, though? No, they’re small and probably at full capacity by now. That won’t work.”

  “Ernest’s, then,” I shrugged, starting the car. “More likely to get a table without a reservation, definitely be seen, and the food is excellent.”

  Chapter Six

  Juliet

  ∞∞∞

  I knew it was going to be a long night as soon as we walked inside and were greeted by the hostess—or should I say when Geoff was greeted. I was blatantly ignored.

  “Hi, Geoff,” the tall slender redheaded witch purred, snuggling up to him and bumping me aside with a bony hip. “Table for one tonight?”

  “Uh, no,” he peeled her off his arm and grabbed my hand, looping it around the same arm so that it rested on his forearm just below the crease of his elbow and my ring sparkled in the light, on prominent display. “My fiancée and I would like a private table for two, please.”