Briar only stares at Sage for a moment before quickly looking away, never one for confrontation.
As we approach them, Sage stays close to my side. I put out my hand to greet my brother. He shakes it with a look of amusement. “What are you up to?” he mutters quietly, but I ignore his question.
“Caleb, this is my…” I clear my throat as the words get caught. “My date…Sage.”
Fuck.
I botched that one. I should have called her my girlfriend, not date. We’re not trying to just make waves; we want to cause a tsunami. But it’s okay. It was only the first try. I’ll get better.
On my arm, I feel Sage squeeze me as if to say, Nice job, asshole.
Then she smiles politely at my brother and takes his hand as I continue the introductions.
“Sage, this is my brother Caleb, and his wife, Briar.”
My chest feels tight with anxiety as Sage puts her tattooed hand in theirs one at a time. I notice Caleb’s hesitation as if he can already sense that something is off. As if he knows it’s all a lie.
But I can’t tell him it’s a lie. Sage and I went over the rules in her apartment, and I’ve been replaying them in my head ever since.
Rule #1: No one can know the truth. Everyone needs to believe we’re a real couple.
That means brothers, friends, strangers, everyone. I don’t normally keep secrets from my brothers, but lying to Caleb and Lucas should be easy. It’s my mother I’m worried about.
If we want this to be effective, we have to sell it. To everyone.
Caleb’s scrutinizing gaze finds my face. “So…where did you two meet?”
Rule #2: Get the story straight.
“He bought me breakfast at the diner. Last week.” Sage is wearing a bright smile, and I have to admit—it’s convincing.
Her arm slides across my back as she settles herself against my chest, her head nestled in the crook of my arm. She fits perfectly, and she’s not a bad actress. Or not a bad liar, depending on how you look at it.
They don’t need to know Sage and I shared our first breakfast over a month ago. It was my idea to go with a fake anniversary to avoid the date of our meeting lining up too precisely with the day my father fired me.
“Last week?” Briar asks, taking a sip of her champagne.
“Well, you move fast,” Caleb adds.
My gaze slides down to Sage’s face. “What can I say? It was instant chemistry.”
Her cheeks dimple as she scrunches up her nose, smiling up at me. So far, so good. We’re sort of killing it, if I do say so myself.
Rule #3: PDA is key. Be as public as possible.
Which means I should kiss her. We’re definitely in one of those moments when I should lean down and press my lips to hers, but I hesitate a moment too long, and Sage’s smile fades.
She turns away, putting her vodka martini to her lips and taking a drink.
Clearing my throat, I glance back at my brother, who is still staring at me as if I’ve sprouted a dick on my forehead.
With his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together tightly, he looks about two seconds away from calling bullshit. My temperature starts to rise.
Just then, his eyes track over my shoulder, and his demeanor changes. I can tell by the way his mouth slackens and his shoulders tense that our father is somewhere behind me. He turns his eyes away and takes a large drink from his glass.
And when I turn around, I watch Truett Goode cross the room toward me.
This is the point of no return. First, he sees me, and he looks furious.
Then he sees her, and he looks terrified.
Fourteen
Sage
T he look on Truett’s face is probably enough for Adam. I’d say if nothing else happens from this little charade, the expression of pure panic and terror his father is exhibiting probably makes this whole thing worth it.
I feel it in the way Adam pulls me a little closer, squeezing me tighter against his side as Truett approaches.
“Son,” the man says by way of greeting as he reaches us.
It’s not exactly a warm greeting either, more of an emotionless acknowledgment.
“Dad,” Adam replies, giving him a nod.
“Who…” he starts, clearing his throat to regain his composure, “who is this?”
Of course, Truett knows exactly who I am. I watched him enter that club nearly every night. I was there the first time he fucked someone in the VIP room, and I was there the night his son caught him with his face between another woman’s thighs.
I know Truett, and he knows me.
When I glance up toward Adam, waiting for his answer to the man’s question, I expect him to falter again. I expect him to hesitate and uncomfortably call me his date.
But he doesn’t falter at all.
“This is my girlfriend, Sage,” Adam says with an air of smug confidence—head held high, arm proudly draped behind my back, eyes laser-focused on the man in front of him.
There’s a flinch in his father’s expression as he utters that word.
“Girlfriend?” Truett replies with astonishment.
I can hardly contain the grin on my face.
“Nice to meet you,” I say as sweetly as possible, extending my hand toward him. Adam’s father stares at it a moment
before a tall, thin blonde woman I recognize as Melanie Goode joins him at his side. Her reaction is not nearly as trained as everyone else’s. She gapes at me with shock, her eyes scanning me from my pink hair down to my strappy black heels.
But just as I expect her to verbally belittle me with disgust or contention, she takes me completely by surprise as she smiles sweetly. “Well, aren’t you a vision? I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Melanie.”
She puts her perfectly manicured hand out, and I shake it nervously, waiting for Adam to jump in with the introductions.
When he doesn’t, I glance up at him and, for the first time, notice a sense of apprehension on his face. He’s staring at his mother with softness and remorse written across his features.
“I’m Sage,” I say to Melanie, but this time, my smile isn’t forced.
Truett’s scornful gaze is directed at me, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, there’s a booming voice over the loudspeaker. A man in a blue suit at the front of the stage warmly welcomes all of the attendees and invites us all to find our seats.
Without a word, Melanie smiles tightly at me before turning her back and pulling her husband toward the front of the room.
As I glance back up at Adam, I notice that the confidence and satisfaction are gone from his face.
We make our way over to the tables in the middle of the room. They’re large and round, big enough to fit eight people at each, which means we’re seated at the same table as Adam’s parents, his brother and his wife, along with two empty seats.
Adam is tense beside me as we wait in silence for the others to join us. Melanie Goode keeps glancing my way and every time I catch her staring, she gives me a polite smile and looks away.
Briar Goode looks like she’s on a mission to get drunk before everyone else. She’s already halfway through a new
glass of wine.
A man who looks more like Adam and Melanie is sitting on the other side of Briar. No one greets him and he doesn’t speak. Just leans back in his chair as if he’s already bored, and the event hasn’t even started.