Weston patted Elliot’s arm with the back of his hand. “Couldn’t it be the timing is a happy coincidence?” Then he narrowed his eyes on me. “So Saoirse is the blonde you told us about weeks ago? The last hurrah?”
I lowered my chin. “I said those things before I knew she’d be my wife, but yes. That was her. We’ve pretty much been together since then.”
“The consultants will be thrilled,” Elliot intoned.
I folded my arms over my chest. “I won’t ask you to be thrilled. I know that’s outside your wheelhouse. But how about keeping the smart-ass quips to yourself like a real friend? Can you do me that favor?”
He sighed and shoved his free hand into his pocket. “I don’t like being taken for a ride, Luca. If you’re on the level, I will wish you the best. But if this is all some elaborate cover and you’re standing there lying to my face, I won’t react well.”
Two years. I’d have to look my best friend in the face and lie to him for two years while hoping like hell he never found out the truth.
“I’ll accept your apology when you’re proven wrong.”
God, I am such an asshole. So far, nothing about being married had provided any relief. If anything, it had added another layer of problems to my already laden shoulders.
“It looks way too serious over here.” Saoirse came up beside me, circling her arms around my middle. “Are you going to feed me before I wither away, husband?”
Giving Elliot one final glare, I looked at Saoirse, who was currently the only reason anyone might believe our story. For the terrible liar she was, she was playing the role well.
“Of course I’m going to. I just found you. I can’t lose you now.”
Grinning, she pecked the hinge of my jaw. “Sweet husband.”
“Hearing you say that is going to take some getting used to,” Weston said.
“I’m practicing saying it myself,” Saoirse admitted.
Elliot continued being a suspicious asshole. “That’s what happens when you marry a stranger.”
Saoirse’s happy bounce deflated. “You know what might be nice? Some support. Luca and I didn’t come here today to ask you what you think of us together. We’re telling you it’s a done deal. You don’t understand it, and that’s fine. I guess, as a friend, it would be nice if you’d reserve your judgment.”
Elliot canted his head. “That’s fair.”
Her eyes rolled. “Glad you think so.” She kissed my cheek before breaking away from me again to join Elise and Miles, who were in the midst of giving their order to a waitress.
Weston offered me a measured grin. “I’m beginning to see it. I’ll echo Miles and wish you the best.”
Elliot brought his beer to his mouth. “Good luck.”
I pointed at Weston. “Thank you for being a good friend.” Then I jabbed my finger at Elliot. “Thanks for consistently being a dick.”
“I do my best,” Elliot answered.
Weston reached out to squeeze my shoulder. “It’s a shock for all of us. Guarantee he’ll be less of an asshole next time.”
I eyed Elliot, who was smirking and telegraphing his thoughts loud and clear. He was saying, “I wouldn’t bet on it.”
The drive back to my place was subdued. The night had taken a smoother turn once the shock of our announcement had somewhat worn off, but the underlying tension had never really left.
“That didn’t feel good, did it?” Saoirse asked.
“No. Not so much. You sold it well, though.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “I hardly wanted them to find out we were deceiving them.”
“Grace under pressure,” I murmured.
“That feels like a compliment.”
“It was. If not for you, no one would have believed we were married for real reasons.”
“They were real reasons, Luca. Just not the reasons other people get married.”
In my peripheral, I saw her spinning her ring around her finger. “We’ll get you an engagement ring tomorrow.”
“Oh. No, that’s not necessary.”
“It really is. My wife wouldn’t be walking around without a diamond on her finger.”
“I don’t like diamonds.”
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Fine. You’ll choose a ring you like.”
“Do you like yours?”
“My ring?”
“Yes. Do you like your ring?”
My eyes flicked from the road to the metal wrapping around my fourth finger. “It fits well, but it’ll take some getting used to.”
“I—” She shook her head, whatever she'd been about to say lost. “Okay.”
Saoirse spent the rest of the ride looking out her window while I tried to figure out why I couldn’t let myself tell her I’d been surprised she’d gone out of her way to buy me a ring and if I’d had to pick one for myself, it would have probably looked a lot like this.
Chapter Thirteen
Saoirse
I hadn’t grown up poor by any means. We’d been more than comfortable, and I’d never wanted for anything tangible. But Luca’s wealth was in another stratosphere. I wasn’t sure I even understood how deep the Rossi family coffers were.
Today, I learned they were shut-down-an-entire-jewelry-store rich.
As soon as we stepped into the store, glasses of champagne entered our hands, and we were waited on by soft-spoken, unobtrusive staff. They had to have been briefed because none of the rings they showed me had a diamond center stone.
And each one was larger than the next.
Luca sat beside me on a sleek little padded bench, using his phone while I tried on ring after ring. I stopped showing them to him after the fourth or fifth one he’d barely looked at.
I supposed he wasn’t playing the role of doting husband today. It was strange, but as soon as we entered into this arrangement, he’d become entirely different than who I’d first thought him to be. The charm, flirtation, and ease had disappeared. He was stiff and distant, really only interacting with me when he had to.
It had only been a day, though. I might have been overanalyzing him.
After the fiftieth ring, I sighed, and Luca looked up. “Did you choose one?”
“No, I haven’t.” The saleswoman’s flattened mouth was subtle, but a sure tell she was getting just as tired of this process as I was.
He scanned the rings displayed on black velvet. “There isn’t anything you like?”
“They’re all beautiful but—” I was being silly. Luca didn’t need to be involved with choosing my ring since none of this was real. The ring was nothing but a piece of jewelry.
He set his phone face down on the glass counter and turned to me. “What are your favorite pieces you own now? We can have something custom-made in that style.”
“I think you’re going to be very disappointed to hear I don’t own any fine jewelry. My most precious pieces are things I’ve bought during my travels.” I held up a finger. “Before you start thinking I’m some Mary Sue who thinks she couldn’t possibly deserve anything fancy, that’s not what I'm saying. It’s just… I’ve never wanted to invest in that kind of thing.”