A prickling, entirely unwelcome sensation claws at the base of my spine. I want to grab hold of her sleek bob and send her sprawling. Hands off my man.
Except that Lance isn’t really mine.
And acting like a jealous shrew is hardly an appropriate reaction among the Hamptons’ elite.
Sliding my arm through Lance’s elbow, I press a quick kiss along his jaw, noting the lipstick mark I leave behind with a tug of satisfaction. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute, can I?” I murmur sweetly, then turn my eyes on the blonde.
Her stare is icy when it meets mine. The flirtatious smile she’d aimed at Lance turning thin and brittle. “That’s probably a good idea. Though I’d be more concerned about him leaving you. Lance Welles is good at just about everything, except commitment. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my fiancé.” She reaches out a sculpted arm to squeeze Lance’s shoulder, her eyes locking on mine as she plants a kiss on Lance’s cheek, purposely leaving her own mark behind.
I rein in my temper as I watch her walk away, then wipe at her lipstick stain with my thumb. “Who was that?”
He grunts, a vein at his temple pulsing. “No one important.”
“Ah, we finally meet. You must be Vivienne.” Another beautiful blonde comes toward us, but her smile is genuine. And very familiar.
“Jolie.” The name emerges from my throat with a hushed kind of reverence. Jolie graced the covers of magazines for the better part of a decade before walking away from it all to start her own business—a line of jewelry I absolutely love.
I slap a hand over my throat, realizing that the necklace I’m wearing is hers.
Luckily, she doesn’t assume I’m a stalker. Instead, she tells me she likes my necklace with a wink. As if we have an inside joke.
I’m not celebrity-obsessed. I never bother famous people for their autographs or a selfie. But inside, I’m having a major fangirl moment. “Thanks,” I manage to squeak. “I would tell you where to get one, but I think that would be pretty redundant.”
She lets out a warm, throaty laugh that seems almost at odds with her delicate features. “To be honest, that necklace has already sold out. I forgot to have my production manager set one aside for me.”
Oh. Now I feel awkward. “Do you want—”
“Don’t be silly,” she rushes to reassure me. “The thrill of seeing my pieces out in the world never gets old.”
A man I immediately recognize as Jolie’s husband appears at her side, his hand easily sliding around her waist as he drops a kiss on her neck. I know their whole backstory. It was all over the news when he took out a full-page ad in the New York Times a year or so ago. But right now, all of that pales in comparison to the electric buzz of their obvious chemistry.
“Tripp Montgomery,” he says, extending a hand.
“Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he says.
Jolie jumps in. “So, Lance has told us next to nothing about you. I’m not much of a party-goer these days, between the business and the new baby and everything, I’ve been practically a hermit. But please tell me you’ll drag Lance with you over to our place. My friend Eva came out with her twins and she’s watching our two right now. We were just on our way out when I spotted you.”
I look back and forth between Lance and the dazzling couple. He explains. “Tripp is one of my oldest friends, and my business partner.”
“Oh.” I can practically feel Savannah digging an elbow into my ribs. See, Viv? This is why you always, always Google. “Um, sure. I mean, yes. Of course. We’d love to.”
She clinks the rim of her glass against mine and takes a sip. “I just stopped nursing Joey a few weeks ago. I miss it, but the coffee and cocktails are a nice consolation.”
“How is being a mom again after all this time?”
Her smile turns dreamy. “Honestly, it’s heaven on earth. Even with the sleepless nights and diaper blowouts and trying to be everything to an infant, a tween, a husband, and a growing company.”
I’m exhausted just thinking about it. “You certainly have a lot on your plate.”
“Well, there was a time when I wasn’t even welcome at the table.” She leans her head on her husband’s shoulder, currently engaged in a quiet conversation with Lance. “I’ll take feast over famine any day. How about you, what brought you out East? Besides your boyfriend, of course,” she adds with a grin.
A flush rises to my cheeks. It feels wrong to lie to Jolie after she’s been so open with me. I decide to keep things vague. “What’s not to love about the sun and the sand, right?”
She glances at my skin, which tends to burn rather than tan. “I can’t imagine you’re spending all your time just lying on the beach.”
“No. I’ve been redecorating mostly.”
“Oh, that’s right. Lance said you were an interior designer. My second passion. When I was starting to think about ideas for a company, I initially considered designing textiles.”
“Really? That was my area of focus at FIT. I worked for one of the big fabric houses for a year, but it wasn’t nearly as creative as I’d expected.”
She nods sympathetically. “And that’s when you switched to interiors?”
“Kind of. I joined a successful design firm, but I spent the first year doing mostly grunt work. Ordering fabric swatches, checking costs and measurements and inventories. Fetching a lot of coffee.” I make a rueful face. “But eventually, it was pretty great.”
“Are you still with them?”
“Ah, no. I left my job just before summer.” I peer into my cocktail glass before finishing the last of it. “I guess I’m not quite sure what the future holds right now.”
As if sensing my unease, Jolie inclines her head toward Lance. “Well, if my roller coaster of a life is any indication, navigating the twists and turns is much better with love in your heart and a supportive man by your side.”
Lance’s chiseled features soften as we share a glance, his casual grin turning intimate. “Yes,” I breathe softly, unable to look away from him. “I can imagine.”
My heart pounds as Tripp and Jolie say their goodbyes, refusing to follow the script of the role I’ve agreed to play. What I’m feeling for Lance isn’t fake. It’s all too real.
And so very wrong.
Lance has made his intentions quite clear. One house. Two months. Countless lies.
Love is not part of the equation.
And forever isn’t even a possibility.
Chapter 30
Lance
38 DAYS UNTIL LABOR DAY
The ball sails past me, and I chase it into the water, soaking the hem of my khakis. Not that I care.
This evening has been just about perfect. I have a beer in my hand, a burger in my belly, and Vivienne is just a few feet away.
Life is good.
I kick the soccer ball down the beach toward Tripp’s daughter, Romy, and glance up at the deck of the house where Vivienne and Jolie are sitting and watching us. Joey is on Vivienne’s lap, and she waves his chubby baby hands at me.