Coffee Cup Confessions - Trish Williford Page 0,21

means yes.”

He turns to face me. “I wouldn’t be with her if I didn’t love her. That’s why we waited so long to tell you. I wanted to be sure that I was in love and that it wasn’t just a fling. Hurting you was the absolute last thing I ever wanted to do.”

More tears are forming, and they’re not going to stop anytime soon. “I need to get out of here.”

“Are you okay to drive?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

Noah reaches across the console and tries to grab my hand, but I pull it away.

“No. I’m so angry with you. And with her. I appreciate you coming out to talk to me, but we’re not okay.”

He nods and opens the car door. “Fair enough. Be safe.” He shuts the door and jogs back into the house.

I quickly back out of the driveway before anyone else decides to hijack my passenger seat.

10

Jake

Blood-red nails adjust my tie, although I’m confident that it’s just fine.

“Tonight, your job is to just stand beside me and look pretty. Smile but not too much. No talking unless your spoken to. And do not let me have more than two glasses of champagne. I can’t be a drunken fool when meeting the governor.”

I’ve been hired by Carla Anderson to accompany her to a charity event tonight in Baltimore, where the governor is expected to attend. The governor is recently single, and Carla has made it no secret that she has her eye on the prize, which is him. Carla is in her early fifties and widowed with no children. Tonight, I’m playing the role of her nephew, but really, I’m just an overpaid babysitter.

“Understood, Ms. Anderson.”

“Aunt Carla,” she corrects me. She takes a step back and twirls her finger, and I oblige and turn around for her. “You look the part.” She steps in front of a full-length mirror and rearranges her breasts.

“I think you look beautiful.” And I really do, although I’m being paid to say that.

Women often exude more confidence when they put the time and effort into preparing for an evening, such as Carla has. She might not be what I go for, but I appreciate her beauty and the effort she’s made for this evening.

“You’re not getting laid tonight, so stop trying,” she barks over her shoulder.

“I’m not … I—”

“Whatever. Come on. Let’s go. I want to be there when he arrives.” She’s out the door before I can pick my jaw up off the ground.

Well then, let’s go find your new husband, gold-digging Aunt Carla.

She did it.

I don’t know how in the hell she did, but son of a bitch, Carla caught the governor. Hook. Line. And damn sinker.

An hour into the event, Carla is by the governor’s side, and I’ve been shooed away to do my own thing. These charity events are nice, but they’re stuffy and way out of my league. I don’t have the taste for escargot and caviar. I’d rather have buffalo chicken sliders and a beer.

I find a room that is dark and unoccupied and decide it’s my hideout for the rest of the evening. If Natasha found out what I was doing, she would flip her shit. My phone shows no new messages, and I’m getting suspicious. A week ago, Misha and I were texting like crazy, but since our date, she’s pretty much disappeared.

She’ll respond to my texts with one or two words, if at all. The only thing I can figure is that Mandy told her the truth, and Misha doesn’t want anything to do with me. Not that I could really blame her. If I had an amazing date with someone and later found out it was because the other party had been paid to make it awesome, I would be pissed off too.

Well, technically, there was no exchange of funds. Really, I just took a friend’s sister out as a favor, right?

Bringing up my messages, I decide to give texting her another shot.

Jake: I bought chocolate-covered pretzels today, but they had nothing on yours.

Misha: Thanks.

Jake: Thought any more about opening a bakery?

Misha: Not really.

Jake: You okay?

Misha: Yep.

I’m getting nowhere with her. Paranoia has never been my thing, but it’s convenient that after our date, Misha has started giving me the cold shoulder. In the back of my head, I’m convinced that she knows about the deal between Mandy and me. Maybe Mandy let it slip, or maybe someone saw Mandy and me together in the parking lot and told Misha.

The unknown is eating