Ain't She Sweet (Seven Brides for Seven Mothers #2) - Whitney Dineen Page 0,42
should not be chunks in it—ever.
Things I Miss About LA
Good Chinese food
After James leaves to pick up our supper, I rehash his reaction to my offer. He does not seem pleased by the idea of pretending to be my boyfriend. Truth be told, I’m kind of offended. I know I get on his nerves, but I’d recently begun thinking he might be starting to see me as a friend.
While he’s gone, I decide to take a shower. As the rainfall pulse of the water beats down on me, I try to visualize it washing away my tension. It doesn’t work.
I’m currently more stressed than when I left LA. I’d finally begun to think I could breathe easy but I’m losing that feeling of hope. And just when I thought a new life was in my grasp. It’s soul crushing.
If James and I come out to Rachel, then my privacy will be blown. But what other choice do I have? I could go someplace new, but the press would continue to hound my mom or maybe follow her when she came to see me like they did this time.
My future depends entirely on how people treat me when they know who I really am. I cringe at the possibilities.
After getting out of the shower, I towel dry my hair before running some mousse through it. I look in the mirror at my artificially darkened hair and realize I won’t have to keep up that charade anymore.
By the time I put on a pair of yoga pants and a hoodie, I begin to accept my fate. It’s time to quit running and face the consequences of my past choices. As unhappy as I am about this, I still feel a slight sensation of relief course through my veins.
When James and Penny get back—he took her outside to do her business—I’m sitting cross-legged on my bed, writing down a cheat sheet of things he should know about me.
Penny tries to jump up and join me but she’s still too small and falls backward. I lean over to give her a helping hand. The vet thinks she might be a goldendoodle, which means she’ll be a decent-size dog when she’s grown. But for now, she’s smaller than a house cat.
“What are you doing?” James asks, pointing to my notebook.
I hand it to him. “I’m writing stuff down so that we can more easily sell ourselves as a couple. You should do the same for me.”
“It feels like we’re getting married for a green card and we’re trying to fool the Department of Immigration.” Green Card was another of my favorite rom coms from the nineties. I mean if the whole world could buy Gérard Depardieu and Andie MacDowell as a couple, well, anything goes.
“You really hate this idea, don’t you?” I can’t help how disappointed that makes me.
He looks guilty as he sits down at the foot of my bed. “The thought of losing my privacy makes me itchy.”
“You can back out if you want,” I say while inwardly pleading, please don’t back out, please don’t back out, please don’t back out. I’ve only just screwed up the courage to face this situation. I have no idea what I’ll do if he’s not on board with my plan.
“I agreed to do it, so I’ll do it,” he tells me, not sounding very convincing.
“I really appreciate it, James,” I tell him, “I’ll make sure you get a huge payday from the tabloids.”
“It feels sketchy taking money from them,” he says.
“Think of it as payback for all the horrible things they’d be willing to say about you if given the opportunity.” A look of panic crosses his face, making it clear I just said the wrong thing.
“What kind of horrible things could they say about me?”
I decide to level with him. “They could say you’re dating me for my fame or my money, or that you’re using me for another ulterior motive.”
He shakes his head. “Like what? I’m a farmer. What ulterior motive could I possibly have?”
“They could make up anything. But as long as we present a united front, they’ll probably just use their platform to talk about me and Romaine.”
“What’s up with that name, anyway?” James asks, veering off topic. “I mean as much as I like salad greens, I’d never name my kids after them.”
“It was his grandmother’s surname. She was French.”
James teases, “Are his siblings Radicchio and Spinach?”
I can’t help but giggle. “No, but one of his sisters is named Lutèce. Which,