Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
My teeth ground together as I spoke. “We’re not together.”
“Shut up,” they both said before their eyes locked like nukes pointed at each other.
“First, I didn’t steal Gran,” Jolie defended. “You were invited to every vacation I went on.”
“Yeah, like Mom really wanted me to travel with Dad’s fuck child.”
Jolie’s hands balled into fists and I prepared to step between them.
“Your parents were separated when Dad and my mom got together.”
“More like hooked up. Like mother, like daughter. You’ve stolen my boyfriend.”
My protest against Sophia’s use of the word boyfriend landed on deaf ears.
Jolie stepped forward. “I haven’t stolen anyone.”
“Really, because your lipstick is on his face.”
Sophia pointed to me and my hand went to my mouth as I turned to get a view of myself in the decorative mirror hanging on the wall. Sure enough, lipstick was smeared on my mouth.
There was a shift in the air and Sophia felt it. She moved toward the door, or so I thought. She stopped near the in-house phone.
“It’s time you reap the consequences of your actions. You should know better, Jolie, than to have an unmarried man in your room.”
She picked up the phone as Jolie and I moved to stop her.
“Don’t,” he and I said at the same time.
We were too late as she spoke into the phone. “There is something inappropriate happening in this room.”
I’d lunged for the phone and depressed the hook switch a second too late, ending the call.
“You’re wrong,” I said, even though it was far too late.
“Wrong about what? That you like screwing sisters.”
“He didn’t know,” Jolie said. “When have you told anyone that you had a sister?”
“Half,” Sophia spat. “Not that it matters. He shouldn’t be here. You’re not married.”
Technically, it was illegal for unmarried couples to share a hotel room in Dubai, something we’d been taught in the online training I’d been mandated to take upon my acceptance of the job. I hadn’t thought about it when I followed Jolie to her room.
I didn’t think. I acted. “But we are.”
Sophia’s anger dissolved into hysterical giggles. “Good one. But you’ll say anything to save her, won’t you?”
She was right about that. Broken rules like this one were harder on women if what I’d been warned about was true. I couldn’t let either of us be arrested.
“We are,” Jolie said, coming beside me and wrapping an arm around my waist.
Sophia wasn’t convinced. “Prove it.”
We were fucked until I watched Jolie pull out a necklace from beneath her shirt.
19
Jolie
There was zero recognition in Sophia’s eyes. Gran had been right. She didn’t know these rings weren’t ours.
“We were keeping it a secret,” I said, fumbling with the clasp because I wasn’t a great liar and I couldn’t look her in the eye as I spoke.
“It happened fast,” Grant said, taking the necklace from me and smoothly opening it and pouring the rings into my palm.
“It wasn’t planned,” I said, picking Grandpa’s ring and praying it would fit Grant’s finger.
He held out his hand and our eyes locked. For a crazy second, it felt I was trapped in a time bubble and maybe this marriage thing was real as I slipped the ring onto his finger.
I opened my hand as Sophia said, “Yeah, right. Where did this happen?”
“Vegas,” Grant and I said at the same time.
“There may have been a lot of drinks involved,” Grant continued and slipped the two rings onto my finger.
“We’re taking it one day at a time,” I said, though my meaning might have been different.
Someone banged on the door and I turned and finally looked at Sophia with a raised eyebrow.
I had to admit, she looked convinced and maybe a little sick as she opened the door.
Two security guards came in wanting to know what was going on. Sophia half-heartedly explained what she thought. Luckily, Grant seemed well at ease explaining our fictious marriage.
“You see,” he said, holding up my hand where Gran’s wedding set lay nestled on my finger while showing his.
“Where’s the marriage certificate?” Sophia asked in a last-ditch effort to not sound like a crazy woman.
Many suggested that if you were married and traveling to Dubai, you should have that certificate with you.
“Who walks around with that?” I asked, bluffing as best I could to sound sure of myself because it wasn’t exactly a lie.
Both officers turned to look at Sophia. “This is not funny. We don’t take kindly to crank calls,” one of the officers said to Sophia.
I breathed a sigh of relief. They could have demanded we produce it.
Sophia paled even further. “Sorry about this,” he said to us. “Time to go.” He waved her out of the room and I almost felt bad for her. But she’d brought it on herself.
When the door closed, I let out an audible sigh.
“That was close,” he muttered.
“Yes, it was,” I agreed.