“This is a beautiful reception,” said a sweet female voice off to my right. I turned, champagne flute of sparkling water in hand, to see a very petite, very pretty younger woman beaming at me. She had dark chestnut curls just past her shoulders, green almond-shaped eyes, and she was dressed to the nines with effortless ease. Before I even opened my mouth to ask who she was, I knew the answer. This was definitely Chase’s younger sister.

“Oh, thank you,” I told her, smiling. I held my hand for her to shake but she bypassed the handshake and pulled me into a tight hug.

“It is so wonderful to finally meet you,” she gushed. When she smiled, there were faint dimples on her cheeks, more pronounced than Chase’s, but the familial resemblance was intense. Their family must have the most potent genetics ever, I thought to myself.

“You must be Celia,” I guessed. She nodded fervently and linked her arm through mine, careful not to spill my drink.

“Yes, I’m Chase’s sister. He’s older than me by several years, but I still like to think I’m the mature one,” she joked. “Come, let’s get a table and talk. It’s been ages since I got to have some good girl talk in, between my fiancé and having two brothers around all the time. Besides, we’re sisters now. I want to know everything about you!”

There was such genuine excitement and sweetness in her demeanor that she instantly put me at ease. I knew it was going to be a little rough having to lie to her face about the nature of my marriage to Chase, but she was so kind that I knew I couldn’t turn her away. Besides, bonding with Celia would definitely lend credence to the image of our marriage being legitimate.

Of course, I felt like a scumbag thinking of it that way.

Celia led me over to an unoccupied little table near the corner of the room, further away from the crowds and commotion. She sat down across from me and rested her chin on her hands as she looked at me, still beaming as though I was the best thing she had ever seen. For some reason, back when we dated in college, I had always assumed that Chase’s family would be rather cold and detached. The way most exceedingly wealthy families seemed to be, from my experience. But if Celia was any indication of the rest of his family, they were nothing like I expected. She took a sip of her champagne.

“So,” she began cheerily. “You two met way back in college, huh?”

I nodded, smiling. “Yes. He was in my philosophy class. He was a year or two ahead of me, but I was taking the class as an elective by choice.”

“Smart cookie,” she noted. “I bet you made better grades than he did, too.”

“No, no. Chase was brilliant. Still is. I would study my butt off, and he would just stroll in to take the test without even thinking about studying. And in the end, we’d make the same grade. It was actually kind of frustrating sometimes,” I laughed.

Celia rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Oh, now that I can believe. He was the same way in high school, too. I remember he was always invited to these massive study groups at prep school but he would never show up. Everyone else would be cramming for the test right up until the last second, stay up all night to get in some last-minute memorization. But Chase would just sleep in and roll into class just in time to take the exam and pass it with flying colors. His friends were all convinced he was either a master of cheating or a secret genius.”

“I could definitely see him being a secret genius,” I mused aloud.

I loved hearing stories about Chase as a kid. It was sometimes difficult to imagine him so young, even playful or silly. He was so mature and put-together and polished nowadays that it seemed impossible that there could have ever been a time when he wasn’t that way.

“Oh, no. If he were a genius there’s no way he would keep it a secret. If there’s one thing bigger than his brain, it’s his ego,” she giggled. It was an inappropriate thought to share with his own sister, of course, but I couldn’t help but think, Actually I can think of something of his much, much bigger than his brain or his ego.

“He does have a pretty healthy dose of self-confidence,” I agreed.

“He always has. Even when he was a kid, he was so self-assured. Between the three of us, he definitely was the cool one. Luke is the goofy one, I’m the type-A one, and Chase is just… Chase. He doesn’t second-guess himself, you know? I always admired that about him,” she added fondly.

“Yes,” I agreed. “He’s a very calming presence. When he’s around, it’s like I get this feeling that nothing bad can happen to me. And even if something bad did happen, Chase would know instinctively how to handle it.”

“Exactly,” Celia chimed in. “I’m so glad you found each other. Chase is smart and determined, and he’s great at his job, but sometimes he had a tendency to overwork himself. The company has been his baby for years and it’s hard to get him away from work. I used to be the same exact way, myself, until I met Liam.”

“Is Liam your fiancé?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Chase and me. Celia had said she wanted to know everything about me, but I figured I could keep her talking long enough to avoid the subject.

She brightened up, the love evident on her face instantly. “Liam is my fiancé, yes. The love of my life. I never thought I would find someone who clicks with my personality the way he does. Like I mentioned earlier, I can be a little type-A. A little bit uptight. Especially with work. I used to get so wound up that I couldn’t breathe, you know? The stress of handling all the marketing content-- it gets pretty soul-crushing sometimes. Having to constantly convince people, contending with trends and publicity. It’s a lot of work. A lot of late nights and early mornings. But from the moment I met Liam, it was like time began to slow down. He taught me how to jump off the spinning wheel every now and then and just breathe. He would probably hate that I’m telling you this, but he’s the one who got me hooked on yoga and meditation.”

“That’s awesome,” I admitted.

I grinned, glancing across the room at the big, buff guy she had arrived with. It was a little funny to imagine Liam in downward dog or doing breathing exercises, but it was kind of sweet, too.

“He’s awesome,” Celia sighed happily. “Even though he refuses to ever admit that coffee is superior to tea. I guess that’s just the Londoner in him, though.”

“Oh yeah. There’s probably tea running in his veins or something,” I joked.

She giggled. “Oh, I’m going to use that. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I laughed. “So, how did you two meet?”

“Well,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I was in London for a business meeting. It was drizzly and gray and cold. My client had canceled on me at the last second, right when I got into town. My luggage had gotten lost so all I had for the moment were the clothes on my back and my purse. My hotel had somehow mixed up the dates and I had nowhere to stay for the night, and I was calling all the hotels in town trying to find a replacement. Just an awful day. So I walked into this pub at three in the afternoon, went to order a martini, and then this crazy-hot guy sits down next to me and tells me I don’t want a martini, I want a Guinness.”

“Oh, really?” I gasped, invested in the story.

She nodded. “Yep. Just ordered me a Guinness like it was nothing, like we had known each other for years. I got pretty annoyed, to be honest with you. I told him I didn’t even like beer, and he was so self-assured. He told me, ‘You’ll like this one.’”

“And did you?” I asked.

“Hell no,” she laughed, “I hated every drop. But Liam was so handsome and cool I drank it all anyway. We flirted all afternoon and into the evening. I can’t tell you how many drinks we had. Finally, we ended up leaving the bar and getting dinner together, and afterwards I realized I had never actually found a hotel room for the night. I was about to start panicking when Liam, smooth as can be, just suggested I stay over at his flat.”

“Wow, that is pretty damn smooth,” I chuckled.

“And it worked. I went to his place and we stayed up talking all night. Not even touching each other yet. Just talking. About everything and nothing at the same time. In the morning, I was supposed to fly home, but I ‘accidentally’ missed my flight,” she whispered. She gave me a wink and I laughed. “So then I ended up spending the whole weekend with him and we’ve been virtually inseparable ever since. Of course, I did eventually have to come back to the States, but we managed to keep up a semi-long distance relationship for months and months. We would each take turns flying across the Atlantic to spend time together. Finally, right when it was getting to be too painful having to say goodbye, he proposed to me in that same pub where we first met, and of course, I said yes.”

“Oh my God. That’s the sweetest love story,” I gushed genuinely. “It sounds like a movie or something, Celia.”

“I know, right?” she agreed. She had tears in her eyes but she dabbed at them with her napkin. “Ugh, I never used to cry. Liam’s made me such a softie. Damn him.”

“I’m really happy for you,” I told her. She smiled sweetly and patted my hands.

“I’m so happy for you, too. Gosh, I’m so sorry for talking so much about myself. How rude of me,” she apologized.

“No, I loved it. What a great story,” I assured her.

“You know how it is when you’re in love. It’s the only thing you want to talk about,” she told me, misty-eyed. I nodded, feeling my heart sink. She was right. All I wanted to do right now was gush about how Chase made me feel the same way, about how every time he was close to me I felt like I was home. And I would have told her all of that, except that Liam came over and asked her to dance, even though hardly anyone else was dancing at the moment.

“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me,” Celia said to me. “Liam is the worst dancer on the planet. I can’t miss this.”

“Hey, you’re supposed to be supportive of my hobbies,” her fiance retorted. His accent was crisp and his smile genuine as he helped her up and led her away.

I watched the dancers for a little bit, and then I got up to head to the bathroom while Chase was getting our coats so we could leave. When I went to wash my hands, there was someone else in the bathroom-- a tall, statuesque blonde with brown eyes and the meanest expression I had ever seen. She was staring straight at me, and I could almost see the cartoon steam shooting out of her angry head.

“Can I help you?” I asked. I raised an eyebrow.

She smirked. “No. But I can help you.”

“Okay,” I began slowly, “what does that mean?”

She took a few aggressive steps forward and I instinctively stepped back. She looked pleased at how easy it was to intimidate me. “I know your marriage with Chase is a sham,” she hissed. My eyes went wide.

“Excuse me?” I whispered breathlessly. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Olivia Gleason. Chase’s ex-girlfriend. You know, the one that got away and all that. I’m sure he’s mumbled my name in his sleep or called out my name during sex with you or something. That’s me,” she jeered.

“That’s funny. Judging from that I would’ve assumed you had the same name as me, then,” I shot back. I crossed my arms over my chest. Her cruel smile faltered.

“Whatever. Just know that I will do everything in my power to end this ugly little charade you and Chase are putting on. I will destroy this for you. Chase doesn’t belong to you. He’s mine. He may be too blind to realize it now, but nobody knows him better than I do. So watch your back, bitch, because I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back,” she threatened.

My heart was pounding as I quickly side-stepped her and rushed out of the bathroom to go find Chase. I kept glancing over my shoulder to see if she was following me, and to my relief she was not. But her words did follow me, echoing in my head like an alarm.

No matter what I did the rest of the weekend, I couldn’t shake Olivia’s words. Not when Chase kissed me goodbye on the jet. Not when I touched down at Peppertree. And not when I fell asleep alone at night.