The next day, Angie dropped Raymond off at school. She received a text from her grandmother’s physical therapy clinic, saying the senior van came and picked her up for her session. She returned to the house to see a grey Lincoln Navigator parked outside along the curb. Rob, Max’s attorney, got out as soon as she went into the driveway.

“Glad I caught you. Max forgot to ask for your number so I could call first and let you know I was on the way.”

“He remembered my address, though.”

“Actually, I found it when he told me your name. Your grandmother still has it listed.”

“Oh.”

Rob had a portfolio under the arm of his suit jacket. “This won’t take long.”

Angie unlocked the door to the house and sat down with him in the living room. He unzipped the portfolio and spread several documents on the coffee table. “This is the official version of what you and Max agreed to yesterday. It spells out the terms of the engagement. Up to six months, you agree to go to all functions and business dealings according to his discretion. You’ll claim to be his fiancée to business associates, family, and the media.”

She took her gaze away from the white sea of dead trees splattered with black ink. “Media? I thought this was a local thing. Max wants to get the deed for land in town.”

Rob didn’t even blink. “Of course, but Max has connections in Atlanta and abroad. Once his engagement is announced, they’ll hear about it.”

Once it’s announced, not if. Angie got a sinking feeling in her gut. She didn’t tell her grandmother about her new gig as a fake fiancée yet. She still hadn’t thought of a way to break the news to her or Raymond. Better think of one soon. She was about to sign the contract.

Rob gave her a pen. She signed her name next to the little arrow-shaped labels affixed to the dotted lines. Max’s signature was already on the pages.

The attorney had her sign two copies. He gathered them in his portfolio. “I’ll have these notarized and get your copy mailed. Max wants to see you tonight at the Kleghorn. He’s meeting with the businessmen over dinner.”

“Tonight?” Things were moving faster than she anticipated. “What should I wear?”

He wrinkled his nose at her t-shirt and distressed jeans. “Not what you have on. I have your dress in the car.”

Rob went outside and came back in with a garment bag. “Max’s sister Trina owns several boutiques in the state. She just opened a store here.”

Angie took the bag from him. Pink letters spelling out Trina’s decorated the front. “How does his sister know my dress size?”

“Max guessed it. He’s usually accurate when it comes to this sort of thing.”

“Oh, is he?” She chose not to think about how much practice he had guesstimating women’s dress sizes. He didn’t seem to have trouble getting dates when he was in Harper High. Nowadays, he had success and those ridiculously gorgeous looks. She assumed women fell at his feet all the time.

“A car will pick you up tonight at seven.”

Friday nights were usually when she, Raymond and Angie’s grandmother went to the movies. One of her grandmother’s friends from church usually took them home if Angie didn’t go. She could give her family a ride to the movies before she went to dinner with Max. “Seven. Got it.”

Rob got up and buttoned his suit jacket. “Best of luck in your engagement, Miss Franklin.”

“Thanks.” She showed him to the door. She was going to need it.

Angie stepped into the light blue silk dress and slipped her arms through the dainty straps. She struggled with the zipper, but once she got it up, the dress fit like a dream. Max guessed right about her size after all.

She assessed her reflection in the mirror above her bedroom dresser. Never would she wear something so girly. The swing skirt swished at her knees when she moved. The top had a sweetheart neckline. Flirty yet tasteful.

She put a dab of styling cream in her short hair to bring out the textured curls and rummaged in one of the dresser drawers for some lipstick. She uncovered a sample container one of the salesladies at the mall handed out when she passed the makeup counter. Angie applied a little Rose Dream on her lips before checking the time on her phone. 6:49. She needed to get downstairs pronto. She grabbed her phone and ducked inside her closet to rummage for the only pair of heels she owned. She snagged them and padded downstairs in her bare feet.

The doorbell rang as she stuck her feet into the heels. Waddling like a turkey at first until she got the hang of walking in the shoes, she answered the door. A man in black polo shirt and tan khakis stood on the porch. The label on his shirt read Kleghorn Hotel. “Miss Franklin? I’m here to take you to the hotel.”

She reached for her keys on the console table in the hall and closed the door behind her. The block was quiet tonight. In about five months, football season would start and neighbors would be walking to Harper High to cheer the Eagles on to victory.

Angie expected to see a hotel shuttle parked outside. Instead, a black limo waited in front of the house. The driver opened the door for her. She got inside. Max was seated in the limo, checking his phone.

He put it away when he saw her. “You look nice. Blue’s your color.” He wore a tailored navy suit and white shirt with a patterned tie.

“Thanks. You picked it out.” She settled across from him.

His gaze lingered on her bare ring finger. “We’ll need to get you a ring soon.”

She folded her hands, hoping her short, bare nails didn’t look too bad. The limo pulled away from the curb. “Tell me about the people we’re meeting for dinner. I don’t want to look clueless.”

“The two men are Charley Landers and Steve Preston. They’ve been buying up land and selling it in Georgia for the past thirty-five years.”

“I meant, what are they like? Do you know what hobbies they share with their families?”

Max shrugged. “From what they said yesterday, they enjoy taking trips with their wives.”

“Travel. That’s a good subject.”

“Their wives will be there, too.”

Angie paused. Max said nothing before about meeting the wives of his prospective business partners. They had to be affluent, cultured women. What topics appealed to them?

As she pondered, Max opened the mini fridge at his feet. “Want a drink before we head to dinner?”

“No, thanks.” She needed her full wits this evening. I can’t mess this up. Raymond and her grandmother counted on her to provide.

The limo stopped and the driver opened the door. Max stepped out first, offering his hand to Angie. She planted both feet on the ground and got out of the vehicle like a lady, as her grandmother taught her years ago. Max’s hand was large and warm. If he noticed the callus on her palm from holding wrenches for most of her adult life, he didn’t say anything.

They walked hand in hand into the hotel lobby. Max commanded attention with his height and posture. Guests stopped texting on their phones or talking to view him. People looked at her, too. Angie noticed the curious stares.

Max walked her over to the Kleghorn’s fancy restaurant. Two older couples waited at the entrance. One set was Caucasian, and the other was African-American. They wore polite smiles and expensive clothing.

“Charley, Steve, ladies,” Max acknowledged their company. “Allow me to introduce you to Angela Franklin, my fiancée.”

Angie greeted them. “You can call me Angie for short.”

Charley and Steve introduced their wives Phyllis and Donna, respectively. “I don’t know about you and Angie, Max, but we’re starving,” said Charley. “Let’s hope this place lives up to its reputation of having the finest steaks in town.”

Angie accompanied the ladies inside the restaurant while the men talked about an article they read on Wall Street Journal’s website that morning. The host showed them to their table. Donna smiled at her. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

“Thank you.”

“Have you set a date?” asked Phyllis, smoothing down her blonde hair.

“Not yet. We got engaged recently.” Like thirty-six hours ago recently.

The host brought them to a table with six chairs. The places were set with stemware, fine china, and at least three forks per person. Angie read an article about a trick to remember which fork to use first. She couldn’t remember the article or the trick.

Max pulled out her chair. He ordered a round of drinks for the table when the waiter arrived. “Merlot to start.”

“I’ll have water for now,” Angie said. The waiter took their drink orders and disappeared.

“I remember when we first got engaged,” Steve said, gazing lovingly at Donna. “How big were cell phones then compared to today?”

“Stop.” Donna giggled. She played along, cupping her hand over her mouth to whisper. “I don’t think they were invented yet.”

Angie paid attention to Max seated beside her. He wore a pleasant smile on his face as he listened to them. Maybe if she also smiled, she could trick her mind into being at ease.