From Fake to Forever Read Free Page B

would probably catch fire and disintegrate. The credit limit on her Visa was laughable, but she’d qualified for it all by herself. No one could take away the satisfaction of paying her own way—that was what the Grown-Up Pact should have helped her realize, but it had taken a lot longer for the epiphany than she’d expected.
    She hadn’t counted on sticking around this expensive Manhattan hotel over the weekend, but she recognized Jason’s wisdom in being available, just in case.
    No biggie. She probably didn’t need to eat anyway. Better to get used to lean times now because once she bought into Cara’s business, she’d have a loan to repay on top of a paltry savings account.
    Listlessly, she ran through the TV channels a fourth time. When her cell phone beeped, she greedily grabbed it in hopes of taking her mind off Jason.
    Except it was a text from the man himself: I’m in the lobby. Text me your room number.
    A quick, sharp thrill shot through her midsection. Oh, she didn’t fool herself for a minute. He wasn’t here to take her up on the ill-advised invitation for a drink. The man was engaged and she sincerely hoped he wasn’t the kind of guy who’d fool around on his fiancée. If he was interested in “catching up,” she wasn’t—poaching on men in committed relationships wasn’t her style.
    She texted him back and hightailed it to the bathroom to splash on some perfume and freshen her makeup because Chandler-Harris women did not allow anyone to see their cracks.
    The knock startled her despite her expecting it. That was fast.
    She opened the door and the dark expression on Jason’s face swept out to engulf her and not in a good way. The back of her neck crawled. “What’s wrong?”
    “Just let me in. I’m not having this conversation with you while lounging in the hall.”
    Silently, she pushed the door wide, forcing him to slide past her to enter the room. It was a deliberate ploy, but his solid body brushed hers deliciously and she wasn’t sorry she’d done it.
    Jason filled the hotel room and she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. “I take it you aren’t planning to ask me to dinner. Which would be totally fine, by the way. I haven’t eaten yet.”
    “You’ve ruined everything,” he said shortly. “Everything. I’ve worked so blasted hard for two years, and in one afternoon, it’s gone. Poof.”
    “What are you talking about? I’m here to fix the problem.”
    “I told my fiancée the cute story of a torrid weekend in Vegas and how, get this, it’s so funny, but it turns out I’m still married. She was not amused. In fact, she was so unamused, our engagement is over.”
    “Oh, Jason! I’m so sorry.” Meredith’s hand flew to her mouth involuntarily. How terrible. He had to be beside himself. No wonder his mood seemed so black. “I never imagined—”
    “So here’s how this is going to go. You cost me a very important contact in the textile industry. You owe me. And you are going to pay, starting right now.”
    She took a step backward as his ire rolled over her. “Uh, pay how?”
    This was not the man she remembered from Vegas. He looked the same, had the same rocking body and a voice that should be required by law to talk dirty to her twenty-four seven. But this Jason Lynhurst was harder, more brittle. She didn’t like it.
    “In as many unpleasant ways as I can devise,” he muttered and swept her with a look. “But not that way. This is strictly business, sweetheart. I need you to do something for me.”
    Since he’d just lost his fiancée, and likely was nursing a broken heart, she’d let the condescension slide. “I’m truly sorry that your fiancée is upset. I’m sure you can smooth things over. Do that thing with your mouth, you kno—”
    “Meiling is not upset.”
    Fire flared from his gaze, giving her a great big clue who the upset party was in this equation. Since he’d interrupted her again, she crossed her arms and perched on the desk so he could