I can’t stop thinking about that skating rink all the next day at work. It’s the only thing I can concentrate on, which is good, because the whispering hasn’t gone away yet.

But for some reason, it doesn’t bother me as much at all. I keep thinking about what Logan said to me, and I think he’s right. People are going to move on from this sooner or later. And besides, I have to be strong. I know this little task I have before me is pretty difficult, and I can’t let these things get in the way. I’m doing this for a reason, and I need to keep that reason in sight.

Although maybe I’m not so sure what that reason really is anymore. Not since Logan somehow took me on the perfect date. I was under the impression that whatever I said to him while we were working went in one ear and out the other, since he’s always been so arrogant and cocky. But apparently he listened and remembered one tiny thing I said to him one time, and somehow he spun that into the most amazing date I’ve ever been on.

And it was a date, I can’t fool myself. He took me there because I was angry with him, but I saw the way he was looking at me. And there was that moment when we fell together. I know he was about to kiss me, and I really wanted him to, but I freaked. I panicked and pulled away because I’m an idiot.

Why shouldn’t I kiss him? So far, I’ve been thinking about him as the arrogant asshole boss that I remember from before the night that changed everything. But he’s changing, or at least he is toward me. He’s kinder, more thoughtful, and he’s learning to be such a good dad that I’m actually really impressed. He was so happy when he found out about Alexa, and he’s going the extra mile to try and win me over.

So why keep resisting him? Maybe I just want to make sure that I don’t let myself forget what we’re really doing. This is a job, after all, and I should try and keep it professional if I can. Logan of all people should understand that, and yet I don’t see anything professional about the way he looks at me.

I can’t decide what I really want as the workday ends. I head back to my own apartment to pick up a few things that I forgot, more importantly my personal laptop. I usually Skype with my mom, but I haven’t had my laptop with me, so I haven’t been in touch with her really.

Which is pretty bad, considering what’s going on. It takes me about twenty minutes to get across town to my apartment. It’s a little tiny studio on the fourth floor of an old building on the west side of the city. I head up the stairs and unlock my door, pushing my way inside.

It looks just like I left it. For some reason though, I don’t really miss it.

I guess that’s not surprising. Logan’s apartment is much, much nicer. I don’t have to worry about it getting too hot at night because my building doesn’t have air conditioning. I don’t have to listen to my neighbors having sex late into the night, or to the sound of police cars whizzing by outside at all hours. I haven’t seen a single cockroach since I started staying at Logan’s.

I drop my keys on the counter and grab a bag from my closet. It takes me just a few minutes to grab a few things, hair products, makeup, that sort of stuff. I pack it all into a backpack before finally grabbing my laptop and flipping open the lid.

I log in and check out my Skype app. I sigh and shake my head at the five missed calls from my mother.

I’m such an asshole. On a whim, I decide to give her a call, just in case she happens to be around.

Her image pops up after the second ring, almost like she was waiting for me to call. She’s wearing her glasses with her short brown hair tucked back behind her ears. She smiles when she sees me and I can’t help but smile back.

“Hey, Mom,” I say to her.

“Hey, yourself. Where have you been? I thought you were dead.”

“Not dead yet,” I say. “Just been really busy with, uh, work.”

I realize that my mom knows nothing about my arrangement. I got married recently and she has no clue. My own mother doesn’t know that I’m married to one of the richest men in the world. I consciously keep my left hand out of the frame. I don’t want her to see the ring.

“Too busy to call your mother, huh,” she says. “Look at you. Big city girl.”

“Mom, you know it’s not like that.”

“I know, sweetie. I just worry.”

“You don’t have to.” I sigh and frown at her. “I’m totally safe.”

“Nobody’s safe living in that city.” She makes a face.

I can’t help but smile. She has no clue where I’m living now. Naturally, she hates my tiny little apartment in a bad neighborhood, even though it’s perfectly safe and I’ve been fine here. I can’t really blame her. She’s from a small town and raised me in a small town, and doesn’t understand why I wouldn’t want to live there my whole life.

I feel so guilty about not telling her sooner. I don’t even know if I want to tell her now, but I know I’ll only feel worse if I keep it from her. I can’t tell her the whole story, and I know she’s going to be so disappointed in me, but I have to deal with that. I don’t want to be a sneaky person who hides this stuff from my mom.

“Listen, I need to tell you something,” I say.

“Sounds ominous.”

“It’s not. I mean, it is, a little bit.” I take a deep breath. “Mom, I got married.”

She stares at me blankly. “What?”

“I got married. To a man.”

She laughs, clearly not believing me. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. It was a small ceremony in front of a judge.”

I can see the realization slowly dawn on her face. I’m not joking, not at all. “When?” she asks.

“Not long ago,” I say. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Is this what you were busy with?” she asks.

“I guess so, yeah,” I say.

“Who is it? Who did you marry? Oh, Everly.”

“Mom, he’s a good guy. You’d like him.”

“Well, can I meet him?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Not yet. Soon though.”

“Everly. You got married to someone and I don’t even know what his name is.”

“His name is Logan,” I say. “Look, I’m sorry, it all happened so fast. I have to go.”

“Everly,” she says. “Are you in trouble?”

“No, Mom,” I say, sighing. “I’m perfectly okay.”

“You just got married without telling me, to a man I don’t know. I’m worried. And a little disappointed. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“Mom.” I say softly. “Please, I promise it’s okay. I’ll tell you more soon, okay?”

“Please, I really hope you’re being safe.”

“I am. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I close the lid and end the call before she can reply. I know she’ll keep me on Skype for hours if I let her.

I feel so freaking guilty. I hate myself just a little bit. The look on her face was pure hurt and disappointment, and I hate that I’m letting her down. My parents have such a small-town mentality and they’re very conservative, I know they’ll never understand this. They probably won’t forgive me for it. I just hope my relationship with my mother doesn’t suffer too much.

I lean back on my crappy old couch when my phone vibrates. I check it, afraid that it’s my mother, but it’s a text from Logan.

“Car’s waiting for you outside.”

I frown at it. “What?” I send back.

“We’re going to dinner. I sent a car to pick you up.”

“I’m at my apartment,” I type.

“I know. It’s waiting. Take your time.”

I get up and walk over to the window. Sure enough, there’s a black town car waiting out front. I think I can recognize the driver.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I send him.

“Sure I did. Now get in that car and come meet me.”

I can’t help but smile a little bit. He didn’t know that I was going to tell my mom about him and that it was going to be really hard. And yet he’s doing this nice thing for me anyway.

I gather my stuff and carry it to the door. I hesitate for a second, looking at the small apartment in this dirty, broken-down building, and I know I don’t miss it.

I hurry downstairs, excited to see my rich and famous husband, even if he’s not my real husband. Sometimes, faking it is better than the real thing.