James slips into the reading room and hands me a sheet of paper.

He arranged for me to change out of the bartender uniform into a fancy cocktail dress. The advantage is that I no longer look like a big garbage bag, but the disadvantage is that it’s tight and shows a lot of skin. It’s a lot skimpier than something I’d usually wear.

“This is the ‘fact sheet’ that we created for Gabriela,” he says.

“Who?” I ask.

He shoves the paper into my hand. “The woman who was going to act as Liam’s fiancée before he fired her a day too early. You only have a few minutes to study this, so stop wasting time.”

I look down at the sheet. Apparently Liam proposed to me over eight months ago. I blush reading some of the bullet points.

“I wouldn't have slept with him on our first date,” I say.

James sighs. “You’re playing a character, Amber. You’re playing a woman that Liam would actually be interested in.”

“Hey,” I snap. “What does that mean--”

“Come on,” James says. “You know what I mean. I’m not trying to sound nasty, but it helps if you can just stick to these facts rather than trying to shoehorn your own personality into this story.”

“This ‘story’ is ongoing, though, James,” I say. “Isn’t it easier to come off as realistic if I inject some reality into it? It’s easier for me to play myself than to play the woman in these bullet points.”

“Liam has already memorized these bullet points, and he can tell a number of detailed stories and anecdotes about each one. We’ve spent months on this, Amber. This list is just for you to look at tonight. You have to learn the full story behind each bullet once we get through tonight.”

“I see,” I say. “So Liam doesn’t really care about who I really am, he just wants me to be...this.” I shake the paper.

James rolls his eyes. “You’re just a tool for him. You’re not actually getting married. Do your job, get paid, and go live your life. That’s my advice here. Don’t get attached to Liam; you’ll regret it.”

“How’s that?” I ask.

“He tends to break women’s hearts,” James says. “It’s what he does. He’s turning thirty and had this elaborate thing worked out to fake an engagement--do you really think that is the kind of guy who can hold onto a woman? Or wants to?”

What James is saying makes sense. Liam sounds like a bit of a disaster. The kind of rich asshole who doesn’t need to commit--who can just keep messing around for as long as he wants. Not the kind of guy I’d want to spend my life with.

I look down at the sheet and frown. “I’m really not a cat person, though. I like dogs.”

“You’re not allergic, are you?” James asks.

“No, but--”

“Then you’re a cat person,” he says. “Are you ready?”

I nod.

I study the sheet for a few more minutes, and then I hear the murmur from the crowds die down. There’s suddenly only one voice speaking, a deep one. It sounds like Liam.

“He’s introducing you now,” James says.

James snatches the sheet out of my hands, pulls out a lighter, and lights one corner on fire. He drops the burning sheet into an ashtray, and then puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Time for your big entrance,” he says, and then he opens the door for me. He shoves me out into the main room, and hundreds of pairs of eyes are instantly gawking at me.

I step out into the cold silence of all those people staring at me. Judging me. I can see it in so many of the women’s faces. “She is good enough for Liam Lions?” It’s a look of disbelief, of doubt. I try to keep my head held high.

“My fiancée,” Liam says. “Amber Green.”

I guess James told him my last name.

There’s more silence, but then Liam strides toward me. Before I even realize what’s happening, his hand grips my waist, and he dips me down. I feel his lips pressing against mine, and my eyes widen in shock.

But then his tongue presses against my lips insisting on entrance, and his warmth and masculine scent overpowers me. My eyes start to close, and I submit willingly to his dominant kiss.

What the hell, this was not part of the plan! Or was it, and he just didn’t think it was worth telling me about it ahead of time? Asshole.

Asshole or not, though, this man can kiss. His strong hands grip my body, and even as my knees weaken, he holds me up. I press back against his tongue--I mean hell, why not?--and adrenaline jolts through every vein in my body. And then he pulls away, just as I’m craving more of him.

I try to compose myself, which is hard, because more than one hundred people are gaping at me in total silence. Some even have their mouths hanging wide open. Am I really that out of place among Liam’s social circle?

Then someone starts to clap, and more join in. Soon everyone is clapping loudly, and some people are whistling or shouting congratulations.

Liam grabs my waist and pulls me up against him. He leans in toward my ear and whispers, “You did well.”

Does he mean the kiss, or the acting?

“Do you see her?” he asks.

“Who?”

“Cynthia,” he hisses. “Did you forget everything already?”

I scan the crowd, and I see a woman staring daggers at me, even as she claps politely. Her eyes narrow when I look at her. She’s stunning and beautiful--of course--way better looking than me. She has regal cheekbones, long legs, a perfect hourglass figure, and luxuriously long black hair that shines like silk. It’s her icy cold blue eyes, though, staring me down that draws my attention and sends a chill down my spine.

I try to swallow, but it gets caught in my throat. “I see her.”

“Good,” he says. “That looks she’s giving you? It means she’s for real. She’s not playing around.”

“You’ll protect me, right?” I ask.

He lets out a dry laugh. “Are you kidding? I’m paying you five million dollars to protect me.”

I glare at him. “Come on, Liam, you’re my fiance.”

He grins. “I know, and if she tried to actually hurt you, I’d protect the hell out of you. I got you into this after all. But whatever sly woman stuff she’s going to do, the best I can do is lead you along. You’ll have to defend yourself from that.”

I look at him skeptically. “Sly woman stuff? Is that really how you think of women?”

“I’m thirty and forced to pull off a fake engagement. Does it look like I was in a rush to get married?”

Fair enough.

People come up to congratulate us, but Cynthia Frost hangs back in the crowd, biding her time. She’s like a spider, spinning her web, hoping to lure me into it. Every time I look over at her, she’s watching me with those big, cold blue eyes. She’s trying to find my weakness just from watching me. I become extremely conscious of my bad posture, and I try to stand up straighter. Then I realize she’ll have noticed that, and--

“Relax,” Liam says, putting his hand on the small of my back. “I know it’s stressful, but if you overthink it, you won’t be able to swallow or blink without thinking about it.”

I remember being unable to swallow just a few minutes ago, and I force myself to blink.

“How can you stay cool in this situation?” I ask.

“I’m panicking ever so slightly,” Liam says. “I have to deal with major crises every single day. It’s part of being a CEO and being in charge of tens of thousands of people. This is just a little bit harder than usual, since it’s directly threatening my personal life.”

“My biggest hurdle on a work day is usually dealing with a drunk asshole at an event with no bouncers or security staff...weddings are the worst.”

“I’ll remember that if I ever get married,” he says.

“Remember what?”

“To hire security for my wedding,” he says. “Let’s just hope it won’t be a wedding to Cynthia Frost.”

“I thought you said you never wanted to get married,” I say. “At least you implied it.”

“Maybe when I’m fifty or sixty,” he says. “When I’m ready to settle down.”

I roll my eyes, and another of Liam’s friends--this one from the tennis club--comes up to congratulate us.

Playing the fiancée in front of so many people is building up my courage and giving me some practice, and I even start to forget about Cynthia.

Until she’s right on top of us. I didn’t see her approaching; she must have crept up when I was looking away. She really is like a spider, long legs and all.

“I can’t believe it,” she says, smiling at Liam. “Liam Lions finally tying the knot? I thought I’d never see the day!”

Liam smiles politely, dimples forming in his cheeks.

I try to mimic him, and I try to play it cool, but I realize I’m not blinking. I force myself to blink. And then to swallow.

“And to Amber here,” Cynthia says. “Totally out of nowhere! Doesn’t it just feel unreal, Amber, to be engaged?”

I finally get the saliva to go down my throat, but it hits the wrong pipe, and I cough. I cough a lot.

I wait for Liam to save me, but as soon as he tries to speak, Cynthia hits my back.

“One good cough will clear it out, sweetie,” she says. “There you go.”

I catch my breath, and I can tell my face is red now. I realize I’m off to a very bad start.

“It’s so unreal you choked!” she says, laughing. “That’s how you know you have something really special.”

“It does feel a bit unreal,” I say. I had to get some actual words out, or I’d otherwise be a mute and dumb coughing mess.

“It’s not really so sudden,” Liam says, sipping his wine. “I proposed over eight months ago, but I just didn’t want the media all over us straight away. The last thing I need is for the paparazzi to scare my fiancée off before she really gets to know me.”

Cynthia smiles. “Wow, eight months. That is a long time. There must be so much history between you two...so many fun little stories to share.”

I smile nervously. There was the time we met a few hours ago in the garden, the time Liam told me his crazy plan in the pantry and then proposed to me, and the time we kissed. Three stories to tell in just under two hours. Not bad.

“Liam,” Cynthia says, pointing to his glass. “Can you get me one of those? Amber doesn’t have a drink either, it’s no wonder she’s coughing.”

I look at him wide-eyed, trying to beg him not to leave me alone with her. He said I shouldn’t talk to her alone, but maybe it will look suspicious if he refuses?

Liam says in a calm voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

Damn it.

And then he’s gone, and Cynthia looks at me as if I’m prey that just landed in her web.

“So, Amber,” Cynthia says. “You’re not actually a bartender?”

I frown. “You saw me--”

“I mean,” Cynthia says, faking a sweet smile. “Not just a bartender.”

“Education,” I say. “I want to be a teacher.”

I say it with a confidence that I don’t really feel.

“Ah,” Cynthia says. “Good thing you’re marrying a billionaire then.”

I force a laugh.

“So you like kids?” Cynthia says, moving closer to me.

I feel a pressure on me as Cynthia shifts ever closer, now just inches away from me. It’s as if the physical closeness is trying to force me to share more with her than I’d otherwise be willing to. My back is pressed against a table, so there’s no room to retreat.

“I was thinking middle school or high school,” I say. “I wonder what could be taking Liam so long.”

I scan anxiously around the room, but I can’t find him.

“Kids of your own?” Cynthia asks, winking. “I never thought I’d see the day that Liam Lions might settle down and have kids.”

I bite my lip. “We, uh, we’ve talked about it, but--”

“Is he still self-conscious about that silly birthmark?” Cynthia asks me.

“Uh,” I stammer. “Hah, you know.”

Shit, what birthmark? I haven’t noticed a birthmark on Liam, so it must be somewhere that I couldn’t see covered by a suit.

“I’m going to go look for Liam,” I say.

Cynthia forcefully grabs my arm, squeezing hard. “Tell me, Amber, where is the birthmark?”

Liam suddenly appears behind me, and as soon as Cynthia spots him, she lets go of my arm. Her eyes have not let go of me, and they are burning with anger, even as she fakes a smile.

“We were just talking about Amber’s studies,” Cynthia says.

No, we were just talking about Liam’s birthmark. One I’m guessing he does not actually have. No wonder he told me to keep my mouth shut; Cynthia is laying traps left and right. Still, I didn’t handle that particularly well, and even though she was probably suspicious of me anyway, she’s definitely suspicious of me at this point.

“Right,” I say. “Like I was saying, I think I can do more for students in middle school, but middle schoolers are just so difficult sometimes…”

Cynthia scowls at me. If she wants to pretend the birthmark conversation never happened, then so will I.

“I was a total asshole in middle school,” Liam says.

Cynthia laughs and puts a hand on his arm. “You are still a total asshole.”

I feel myself bristling when Cynthia touches him, but Liam takes a step away from her and wraps a hand around my waist. It feels good, especially when I see the look on Cynthia’s face.

“So you’ll invite me to the wedding?” Cynthia says. “Won’t you?”

The way she says the wedding makes it sound like she’s talking about some imaginary concept, like a fun trip to the DMV, or a clean toilet in a dive bar.

“Of course,” Liam says.

“So when is it?” she asks.

I look up at Liam, doing my best to follow the most important rule: keeping my mouth shut.