The minute I turn around and face Laken, I hold up a hand to ward off her questions. “Look, I’m tired of the kid dates. The gala is tomorrow and we’ve yet to spend any time alone. This shite stops tonight. If we’re going to act like a couple, we need to be a couple. We’re having drinks at the Scribe & Scholar tonight—just you and me. Alone. You got that?”
She stares at me for a moment, and I’m fully prepared for a Laken Cavanaugh argument. Instead, she cocks her head. “Fine. I have one question, though.”
“What?”
“If things go south with this engagement, what happens?”
“What do you mean, what happens?”
“Exactly what I said. If you don’t get what you want, do I not get what I want?”
“I’m not following.”
“Say someone finds out we’re not really engaged and this whole thing is a sham. What happens to me? I didn’t ask for this, Niall. You need to remember that. Whatever happens, you need to remember thatyouaskedmefor this.”
“Don’t worry, Laken,” I say, irritated at the turn of events. “I’ll uphold my end of the bargain. You and Preston will be taken care of.”
Her face blanches. “Right. Me and Preston.”
That warning bell goes off again, but I can’t figure out why. As I walk her out of the office, a nagging feeling follows me. It follows me all day and stays with me.
There’s an old saying that goes, “When you love someone, you can’t see the fault in that person.”
Apparently, you can’t see their lies either.
