Page 19 of Rory Rides Her Fake Fiancé
She squints at me. “Are you trying to swoon? Or is the lasagna getting to you?”
“Shut up. The lasagna’s great.”
“Yeah.” Bailey smiles down at her plate. “He can cook and clean and . . . do other stuff.” She darts a cheeky glance up at me and I laugh.
“He’s the whole package. Good job.”
“Thanks.”
I clear my throat. “So . . . I could use some advice.”
Bailey perks up. “Sure. What’s up?”
“Do you remember how a few years ago your mom gave Hunter your grandmother’s engagement ring?”
Bailey looks at me curiously. “Yes. I’m surprised you remember that.”
It was memorable because Hunter was really pissed at his mom for giving him the ring. Well, not for giving him the ring so much as saying something about Bailey not ever going to need it. We get an earful from Hunter about how little their mother thinks of Bailey, even though she’s a gorgeous, voluptuous woman (who I think of like a sister).
Bailey’s mom sucks.
Something in Bailey’s face shifts. “Wait a minute . . . Hunter’s not . . . he’s not giving the ring to Silas, right?” Her voice has taken on a panicked edge.
“No, no, no,” I assure her.
“Oh good,” she says, blowing out a big breath. At my raised eyebrows, she quickly clarifies. “I mean, not good, like, I don’t want to marry Silas. I mean . . . it’s only been two months since I moved here.”
“Right.” I suppress a smile.
“Obviously I want to marry Silas someday.” I laugh, and she puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before chuckling at herself. “Have you seen the ring? Hunter offered it to me, even suggested I make the diamond into a necklace, but to be honest with you it’s kind of hideous. But anyway, why are you bringing this up?”
I explain about how my uncle gave me the ring from Grandma. “I know you and Hunter took it to someone in the city, so maybe you’d know of a jeweler to talk to or . . . like . . . I don’t even know what I need to do. Uncle Robert said stuff about an appraisal and insurance.”
“So the rumors are true, huh?”
I cover my face with my hands and groan. “Ugh, yes.” Since meeting with my uncle I’ve ignored no fewer than twenty text messages asking about me getting engaged. I’ve also had plenty of people at On the Rocks ask about it, and, inexplicably, two past hookups came out of the woodwork and hit me up for booty calls.
I declined them both.
Obviously the rumors came from the gossipy older ladies. Miss Mullins didn’t even look chagrined when I confronted her about it.
“Can I see the ring?”
“Sure.” I stand and retrieve the stepladder from beside the fridge. Using it, I reach up to the top of the cabinets above my sink and feel around for the box.
Bailey smothers a laugh. “You’re keeping it up there?”
“I’m worried Princess might eat it! She’s too curious about anything that’s nose height or lower. Remember that time she ate Kit’s sock? Or the Monopoly piece? Or the key to the bar’s lockbox?” I could go on. I locate the box and step down from the ladder. “The last thing I need is to go mining dog shit to find the most valuable thing I own. Or worse: take her to the vet for expensive surgery. Wouldn’t that be ironic.”
I pop open the box and Bailey gasps.
“Holy fuck. This is gorgeous.”
“I know, right? Gorgeous and only mildly terrifying.”
“Terrifying because . . . ?”
“When I sell it,” I explain, “this will be the most money I’ve ever had in my life. I don’t want to fuck it up.”
