Page 79 of Let’s Make a Scene

“And we’re sure…” Liam hesitates, clearly still reeling from the shirtless reveal. “Just friends?”

“Do you mean with the man I used to hate who I’m now pretending to be in a relationship with to fix my image thanks to a massive scandal, oh, and with whom I’m about to spend the next three months making a film in front of a documentary crew?” I say.

“Right,” Liam nods. “Good point.”

“I think I know better than anyone that getting involved with a coworker is a mistake.”

“I notice there wasn’t anything in there about how you don’t want something more with him,” Hannah says innocently.

“I don’t want anything more with him,” I reply, serene.

All three of my friends start laughing and, frankly, it’s insulting. It was barely a lie and I’m a very good actor.

“Anyway, it’s not like he’s made any kind of move,” I say, and I know I sound petulant, but it’s true. Jack hasn’t so much as touched my hand without it being agreed in advance. He’s been the perfect gentleman. “He’s been extremely careful about it. I don’t think he wants me to get the wrong impression.”

Now the three of them are exchanging loads of significant eye contact.

“Maybe he thinks you’re not interested,” Liam says, finally.

“Which I’m not,” I remind them. And I’m not sure I’m fooling anyone at this point, not even myself. I did not have “confusing feelings for Jack Turner-Jones’ ” on my bingo card for this year, but here we are. Again.

“Well,” Patty says, giving my hair one final brush and shaking all the bouncy curls out down my back. “The good news is the entire world is buying the fake romance thing, and the story’s doing exactly what it was meant to.”

She attacks me with hairspray, and Liam carefully blots my lips, while Hannah retrieves the garment bag holding my gown.

Stripping out of my robe, I step into the custom Dior gown, which is a dramatic rustle of emerald satin with a boned bodice. Thin straps sit wide on my shoulders, creating a low, dipping neckline. The cut is simple, but the dress is a knockout.

“Oof, that is gorgeous,” Liam says, his fingers stroking the fabric.

“Lola sent over a load of jewelry options,” Hannah says, bustling over to the table, which is covered in black velvet boxes, courtesy of my stylist. “She said any of these will work.”

I start flipping the boxes open and we all ooh and ahh over the jewelry inside. I choose a pair of diamond earrings, and hesitate over a delicate gold charm necklace. An idea forms in my mind, and I feel my lips curve up.

“Uh-oh,” Hannah says. “That look means trouble.”

“No, no.” I grin. “I was just thinking… why don’t we give people something to talk about?”

JACK AND I HAVE ARRANGED to rendezvous at the hotel where the gala is being held. In fact, he’s already there waiting for me when my car pulls into the wide, semicircular driveway. The place is full of people in their finest evening wear, and no one takes much notice when I step out, taking Jack’s offered hand.

I don’t know how or why they’d be looking anywhere else when Jack is wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo.

I linger over his appearance, taking it all in. When I finally look up, I realize he’s doing his own slow inventory, and when his eyes drag up to meet mine, I lift my brows.

“Well?” I ask.

“You’ll do,” he says, and his voice is a gravely shiver that belies the lightness of the words.

It’s not in the least friendly, and my interest sharpens. “You too.”

“Shall we?” he asks, holding out an arm to me.

“Sure.” I take his arm, and we join the throng, moving down the drive toward the entrance. The hotel is lit up like a gorgeous birthday cake under the night sky. The atmosphere is happy, celebratory, the crowd a mixture of celebrities, wealthy donors, and families who have benefited from the work the charity does helping young cancer patients. I’m far from the center of attention, and for once I don’t feel like a bug under a microscope.

It’s a wonderful cause, and the annual gala is a glitzy event in a big ballroom lit with fairy lights. There’s live music and dancing and genuinely good canapés, and most importantly of all it raises a huge amount of money. I’ve always enjoyed it.

“Cynthie!” At the door, we’re greeted by Sasha, one of the organizers, and her assistant. Sasha kisses me on both cheeks. I’ve been involved with the charity and this particular event for years, so we’ve gotten to know each other quite well, but initially I found her pretty intimidating. She treats Jack to a cool look that just might be tinged with approval.

“Who do we have here?”