“This isn’t what it looks like,” I blurt immediately, wincing even as the words come out of my mouth. It’s like something out of a bad movie: Ryan’s stricken face, Mason—and Arianna—with their eyes as wide as dinner plates. My lipstick smeared all over Tristan’s mouth.

“So you weren’t just kissing him?” Ryan asks, his voice dangerously calm.

“No! He was kissing me,” I protest, but he’s already holding both hands up to ward me off like I’m contagious.

“Clearly I’m interrupting something here,” Ryan says. “I’ll get out of your way.” He looks at Mason and Arianna. “If you two will excuse me, I think I need to get a little air.”

“Ryan?” I call after him, but he’s already gone, his broad body disappearing into the crowd.

I turn back to Mason and Arianna, shrugging helplessly. “It was a misunderstanding, that’s all.” I don’t know why I feel compelled to explain to them—after all, we hardly know each other—but they’ve been so incredibly decent all week long that I’d hate if they somehow thought less of me. Or worse, if this mess somehow jeopardized Ryan’s PowerBar deal.

Luckily, that doesn’t seem to be happening. “These things happen,” Arianna assures me, laying a hand on my arm. “If I could count the number of times one of our staff fell in love with me . . .”

“Hey!” Tristan protests from behind me. “I’m not staff!”

I ignore him.

“Go explain,” Mason nods. “Don’t worry about us.”

I exhale in relief. “Thank you,” I tell them gratefully. I start to hurry off down the hallway, then turn back at the last minute. “Um, enjoy the party! Make sure you try the crab puffs!”

I head back through the crowded ballroom, trying to spot Ryan through the crush, but Tristan blocks my way. “Olivia,” he says urgently, but I shake him off.

“First of all, you can’t just go around kissing women who don’t want to kiss you!” I tell him, furious.

“But—”

“No buts!” I shove him aside. “This is never going to happen. I’m in love with somebody else.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can think, but as soon as I hear them aloud I know that they’re true. It may be crazy quick and a little bit wild. It may never have been part of the plan. But I love him.

And I need to make this right.

I’m expecting Ryan to be easy to find in the throng of not-wedding guests—after all, the guy is six foot three—but it feels like forever before I finally track him down, on a deserted patio at the side of the hotel. He’s looking out over the beach with a drink in one hand. The sun is sinking over the water to the west, a brilliant fireball in the sky casting his face in pink and gold.

Achingly handsome.

Clearly furious. And I don’t blame him. That little kissing stunt of Tristan’s could have blown our cover with Mason. His whole company is on the line, and the last thing he needs is to reveal our act—even if it doesn’t feel like an act anymore.

“There you are,” I say, crossing the distance between us as fast as my four-inch heels will carry me. Halfway there I finally I stop and yank the damn things off, hurrying the rest of the way in my bare feet. “I’ve been looking everywhere.”

“Why?” Ryan turns, and then I see his face is like stone. “Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him breathlessly. “But everything’s alright. We’re still fine with Mason and Arianna. They don’t think anything’s wrong. I don’t know what the fuck Tristan was thinking, pulling something like that.”

I thought he’d be relieved, but Ryan scoffs, a low derisive sound at the back of his throat. “I can imagine,” he says darkly. He still isn’t looking at me.

“Wait a second.” I pause, confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means that guy’s not some drunken frat bro at Mardi Gras, Olivia. He wouldn’t have just kissed you out of nowhere unless you were putting out the vibe.”

“Seriously?” I stop. “You think that was my fault? What vibe do you think I’ve been putting out, exactly?”

Ryan shrugs, still avoiding my gaze. “You tell me. I’ve seen you talking to him this week. All that stuff about how you guys have known each other forever, how you used to be so close back in college. Did you used to date, is that it?”

“No,” I say immediately. I could leave it at that—maybe I should leave it at that—but I want to be totally honest. Ryan deserves that much. “I mean, I used to have a little crush on him, maybe, but that was just a dumb—”

“Uh-huh.” Ryan’s handsome face goes hard—but also a little satisfied, like he’s been expecting something like this. “There it is.”

“There what is?” I ask, not understanding. His deal is safe, nothing happened with Tristan, so why is he acting like I just betrayed him? “Tristan doesn’t matter. It was ages ago!”

“Not that long ago, obviously.” He finally looks over, his face changing. “Wait, is that why you wanted a date for this weekend?” he demands. “To make that dude jealous?”

“Ryan . . .” I gulp, but I need to come clean. “Yes, but it was never just about that,” I add quickly. “Vanessa was being a witch, and then you came along, and the dates added up perfectly—”

“So it was about him,” Ryan interrupts me, his lips twisting. “Well, I’m glad I could help you out. Quid pro quo, and all.”

“I can’t believe you’re being like this!” I exclaim, getting angry now. “I only cared about making Tristan jealous before I got to know you. It was before anything happened between us. After that night in the club he could have been eaten by sharks and I never would have noticed. And he’s the one who grabbed me back there, and I shouldn’t have to defend myself for it!”

“That’s not how it looked,” Ryan points out stubbornly. “Admit it, Olivia. We had a good time, maybe, but at the end of the day the whole reason you brought me down here was to use me.”

“Wait a minute,” I stop him. “This was a business arrangement. You were using me too, remember? That was the whole point!”

“That was different!”

“How, exactly?” I demand.

“Because it was never about some other person for me!” he bursts out. “I thought this was a real thing, what we had going on here. And maybe that’s me not being as sophisticated as you, I don’t know,” he adds darkly, “but clearly you were just parading me around to land some other guy who’s more your type.”

“More my type?” I echo, my voice rising in disbelief. “You honestly think I’d pick Tristan over you? Now who’s being the dumb jock?”

I can tell right away that was the wrong thing to say. Ryan’s face goes as cold as Lake Michigan in January.

“Well then,” he says, a muscle twitching dangerously in the side of his jaw, “I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have to deal with me anymore. Mason is committed to PowerBar, we’ll be launching next year. So I guess we both got what we wanted out of this little arrangement.”

He can’t be serious.

I shake my head, a lump rising suddenly in the back of my throat. “Ryan, wait,” I start, a hundred different things fighting their way out of my mouth at once: I’m sorry. I want to make this work. This was the most incredible week of my entire life. I love you. “Can you please just listen—”

But Ryan cuts me off. “Look,” he says, stony again, “this is pointless. I’m just going to head to the airport and get a flight out tonight.”

I can’t believe this is happening. After everything we shared, I figured he’d at least try to understand. He’s just leaping to conclusions, assuming the worst about me, like I deserve all the betrayal in his eyes.

But maybe it never meant that much to him. Maybe I was just another fling, after all. I thought we understood each other, that even though we hadn’t known each other that long, this relationship was worth fighting for.

But obviously I was wrong.

I force myself to swallow back the tears and stand as tall as I can. “Fine,” I lie, setting my jaw. “Go, then. Do whatever you want. Like you said, you got your investment, and I got a date to the wedding. Now our arrangement is over.”

Ryan’s jaw tenses, and I think he’s about to say something else, but instead, he turns and walks away.

I watch until he’s out of sight—willing him to turn around, to come back and change his mind—but soon, I’m alone again. I stumble down off the patio toward the beach, shoving past a couple of baffled old ladies.

I make it all the way to the water’s edge before I start to cry.