is she not perfect? Why the animosity?”
I wish. “No, she is perfect—that’s the issue. I want her. But she’s his.”
Her mouth pops open, and her eyes widen as her back straightens. “Oh, so you want me to make her jealous, break up the wedding? That’s so arseholish, Theo!” She scowls at me, her anger obvious.
I scoff indignantly at her assumption. “No! I don’t want to break up the wedding. I’d never want to ruin what they have. I’ve accepted my fate and moved on. They’re great together. I just want a drinking and dancing buddy, someone to talk to and use as a buffer when people come up to me and say, It could be you next, Theo, if you just managed to get your shit together.” I do a terrible impression of my mum and aunt and pretty much everyone else who judges me and asks when I’m going to settle down and find a nice girl who loves my quirks. Not much chance of that though. There can’t be two girls as awesome as Amy in the world.
Lucie chews on her lip, curiously eyeing me, probably checking I’m not trying some form of a scam or plot to ruin my brother’s big day with her as the secret weapon. “So, you want a fake girlfriend for the wedding?”
I shrug. “More like a fake date, not a fake girlfriend.”
She’s silent for a few seconds. I can see in her eyes that she’s considering it, but then she shakes her head.
“Ah, sorry, I can’t. That’s insane. I don’t even know you; people don’t just go on a mini break with someone they met in a lift. For all I know, you’re the next Ted Bundy, or you think pineapple belongs on pizza.”
I don’t let her rejection get to me though; instead, I reach over and snag her Magic 8-Ball from the floor. Grinning, I give it a shake. “Should Lucie come to Scotland for a free weekend of day drinking and sunbathing?”
I turn it over, and both of our eyes drop down to the window.
Without a doubt.
I smirk at her. “Well, that’s definitive. The 8-Ball has spoken.”
Lucie laughs and snatches it from my hand, tossing it back into her bag. “Traitor,” she tells it.
“Oh, come on. A free long weekend? I’ll pay for your flights, you’ll get your own room, and you’ll get plenty of downtime. All I ask is that you come to the pre-wedding party on Friday night and that you attend the wedding with me on Saturday afternoon. The rest of the time is your own. You don’t even have to hang out with me if you don’t want to. Though I’m not sure why you’d choose not to hang out with me. I’m pretty awesome.” I shoot her a cheeky smile.
Her lips purse as she thinks about it. I stay quiet and mentally cross my fingers. I already accepted my fate as Nanna’s bitch, so this really is my last shot. A totally unexpected shot at that.
She huffs out a breath after a solid minute of deep thought. “All right, I might be moving mad here, but … how about I make you a deal? If we ever get out of here”—she nods at the lift doors—“I’ll do you a solid and come to your wedding weekend and be your fake date. If, the following Saturday, you come with me to a posh party at my parents’ house and let me pretend I’m over my arsehole ex-fiancé. I want to make him choke. I want to look so smoking hot that he dies from jealousy while I hang all over another man. How about it?” She purses her lips and cocks her head to the side, waiting for my answer.
“Oh, I can absolutely do that.”
She’s already got the smoking-hot part down; I’m surprised a guy would ever cheat on her in the first place. I have no plans the following weekend, so I can let her hang all over me to make this idiot jealous.
“Deal!” I hold out my hand. She grins before placing her hand in mine, and we shake on it. “Can you get time off work on short notice?”
She shrugs one shoulder and winces. “Hopefully. I’ll ask when I get back upstairs. Surely, I’m entitled to some form of recompense for the trauma of being stuck in the lift. They owe me,” she jokes. “Let’s swap numbers.”
She reaches into her handbag and comes out with a thick organiser, pulling a business card from