Miss Belief: A Fake Relationship Romance (The Miss Series Book 3)

We walked hand in hand into the hotel ballroom for the cocktail party. Reid was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a light blue shirt that matched his eyes. The outfit seemed rather formal for a beach wedding, but then again, what did I know? Perhaps wearing a formal suit and tie in eighty-degree weather by the beach was fun.

Fun, like having a psychic hit the nail on the head when it came to my childhood emotional scar. Sure, she could’ve guessed how much I liked options and gotten lucky, but I didn’t think so. All of what she’d said about me had been eerily accurate, except, of course, her comment about the pent-up sexual energy between us. Or perhaps I had enough for us both, setting her meter off target.

“Something from the bar?” I offered, trying not to sound desperate for some liquid courage. It was game time, and eyes were already on us. I sincerely hoped I didn’t cause him to regret his decision to bring me here as his fake girlfriend.

“Yes, but let me get the drinks. You prefer Sex on the Beach or in the Driveway?”

My laugh was instantaneous, and his humor was what I’d needed to break the tension. The fact he remembered my home blender drink of choice was impressive. “It’s a beach wedding, so let’s stick with doing it on the beach for now, but do me a favor and don’t get trapped by your past. Not until after I have a drink in my hand.”

His lips curved up in a sexy grin. “I’ll see what I can do.”

After he left, I wandered to a nearby high-top cocktail table to wait for him. I’d just taken a meatball from a waiter’s tray when a glossy brunette with a blond sidekick came up. I recognized them both as the two women on the balcony when we’d checked in.

Mean girl alert. After all the years in middle and high school bullied by rich, spoiled, bitchy girls, I could practically smell it on them.

The brunette spoke first. “Hi, I’m the bride, Jamie, and this is my maid of honor, Tiffany.”

After an awkward pause where I cursed the damn meatball in my mouth, I managed a smile despite wishing I could tell them to get lost. But this was the dance. The type which began with polite conversation before morphing into passive-aggressive, followed by just plain mean.

Finally I was able to swallow and speak. “Nice to meet you both. I’m Teagan.”

First up for catty bitch of the year was the maid of honor, the blonde. “Right, you’re Reid’s little rebound.”

And so went the dance.

“I prefer to be called girlfriend, but the Reid part is true.”

Jamie, not to be outdone in the bitchiest-girl contest, took her shot. “I saw you in the lobby checking in earlier and thought there’s no way she’s Reid’s date, but you look prettier tonight. Guess it must’ve been bad lighting.”

Mean girls gonna hate. “Yeah, come to think of it, I spotted you on the balcony, but you looked much more knocked up then, so I didn’t even recognize you tonight. God bless good lighting, am I right?”

I had the satisfaction of seeing her insincere smile drop like a rock. I might be here as Reid’s fake girlfriend, but I certainly didn’t have to fake being nice to shitty people.

“I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, but—”

“It would be a lie. Believe me. Same. Ah, here’s my boyfriend now. Reid, you know the bride and her maid of honor, I presume?”

He flashed a charming smile. “I do. Nice to see you, Jamie and Tiffany.”

“Yes, nice to see you too, Reid. I still can’t believe you called up last minute to ask to bring a date. It’s bad form. And after meeting her, I wish you had better taste.”

Was it wrong to slap a pregnant lady? All signs pointed to yes. But what if it was only a little bop on the forehead in order to insult her? Or hell, I’d settle for slapping the maid of honor as her proxy.

I half expected my fake boyfriend to give me a disapproving frown, but much to my surprise, he put his arm around my waist, hauling me close to him. “I’d say my taste has definitely improved for the better. Take care, ladies.”

I let out a breath once they turned and left, meeting Reid’s amused eyes.

“Not playing well with the others already?”

“Petty mean girls. I realize the bride is your ex’s cousin, but damn—they came in hot.”

“And judging from the looks of it, they’re leaving to lick their wounds. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“Eh. Mean girls are all over the place. They don’t bother me anymore.”

Leave it to him to catch my slip. “But they used to?”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

He wasn’t letting it go. “Yes you did, and it’s only us. Tell me the truth.”

“Haven’t we had enough sharing for the evening?” Imelda had been quite sufficient for me.

“All right, I’ll guess. You lived in foster care in an affluent area, which meant you probably didn’t fit in.”

I should’ve expected his perception.

“Let’s just say ill-fitting, hand-me-down clothes coupled with my red hair and pale skin made me an easy target for mean girls in school.”

He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “Yet look at you now. Stunning and confident.”

“Dressed in designer clothes.” Lest he forget I was still a poor girl without the proper wardrobe for the weekend.

He shook his head. “You could be wearing anything and remain the sexiest woman in the room.”

His unexpected compliment added to my perpetual emotional confusion. There was no one around. No reason for him to say these words unless he’d wanted to. As I was about to say something to change the subject, I watched him stiffen and followed his gaze.

Walking toward us was an attractive-looking, older woman dressed to impress in a gorgeous silver cocktail dress.

“Who is she?”

“My mother.”

Damn. How could two words be so utterly terrifying? Maybe it was because I had little experience dealing with parents. I’d never known my father, and my mother wasn’t the type to actually give a shit. My foster parents had only been in the picture for a few months and had been overwhelmed with other kids. And my high school boyfriend had been too ashamed of me to ever introduce me to his rich parents.

Knowing it was pointless to let old insecurities threaten my mood, I silenced them.

“You meant it when you said you’re not close with your mom, right?” I needed a quick confirmation since the first impressions I gave were normally for shit. This pending meeting warranted a big swig of my drink.

“No, I’m not. But she’s never noticed. Here she comes. Act like you’re in love with me.”

“Sex on the Beach” suddenly became “Sex Stuck in my Throat” as I started to cough uncontrollably.

“Jesus, you okay?” Reid asked, concern etched on his face as he pounded me on the back.

“Yep. God, this is embarrassing.” A few people were staring, and my eyes were watering, most likely creating a hot mess of my mascara.

But he only grinned, taking my hand and kissing the inside of the wrist in a surprisingly tender gesture. “That should teach you to take things slower. Enjoy the taste a little more before swallowing.”

I stared at him, his words having sparked an unexpected pang of lust. “Wh-what?”

He rolled his eyes, his smirk firmly in place. “Get your mind out of the gutter. And don’t go and choke to death the first night. It would be embarrassing for us both. Also, incoming.”

Shit. Yes it was. Mrs. Maxwell in the flesh.

“Darling, it’s been forever.”

She kissed her son on both cheeks in a fancy greeting I’d only ever seen in movies.

“Hello, Mother.”

Her hand held his chin. “The breakup doesn’t look good on you, my boy. But nothing a good spa day and a reconciliation can’t cure.”

He sighed, stepping out of her touch. “On the contrary, I’ve never felt better. Mother, this is my girlfriend, Teagan Larson. Teagan, this is my mother, Clarissa Maxwell.”

I was about to say it was nice to meet her too, but she pretended I didn’t exist, focusing solely on Reid. “I prefer to go by my maiden name these days, Clarissa Chandler.”

She finally turned a slow gaze to focus on me.

Guess I was up. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Chandler.”

Her eyes raked down my dress to my shoes, clearly assessing exactly what I was wearing and if I was worthy. By the time she made it back up to my face, I lifted a brow, schooling my features to bored indifference. I hated the small amount of self-doubt that hit me under her scrutiny. Guess I now understood why Reid had dropped thousands on a suitable wardrobe for me.

“Be a dear and fetch your mother a drink, Reid. Gin martini, splash of vermouth, two olives, dirty.”

Jesus, even her drink order was fancy.

Reid’s glance toward me asked if I was okay being left alone with her.

I flashed him a brave smile. I had this. Maybe.

“I’ll be right back.”

I drained the rest of my drink, wishing it was a shot to soothe my nerves. But I wouldn’t give Reid’s mother the satisfaction of recognizing how anxious I was. I also wouldn’t be the one to initiate conversation as if I craved her approval.

“Reid hasn’t once mentioned you. Where are you from?”

“Originally from Los Angeles, but I’m currently living in Dubai.”

She rolled her eyes. “Both places are deserts with absolutely no history worth knowing about. I suppose you went to college in California too.”

Imagine if she knew I only had a GED. It was tempting to say fuck it and tell her the truth, but I wouldn’t embarrass Reid that way. “Yes, I went to UCLA.”

She sighed as if put off by the thought I’d attended a public university. “And your family? What do they do?”

“My mother and father passed away when I was younger. They were both in pharmaceuticals.” Neither of these were entirely lies. I assumed my father had been a drug addict like my mother, and both of them could easily be deceased.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Reid started walking our way, drinks in hand. But his mother wasn’t done.

“You’re appealing in a wild and unrefined way, my dear, but I should warn you. Reid always finds his way back to Vanessa. She has enviable genetics, deep family roots, and an impeccable upbringing.”

“You make her sound like a prize cocker spaniel.”

She smiled, the action not meeting her eyes. “There’s a lot to be said for pedigree. And to be clear. He’ll grow tired of you, same as he tired of all the other in-between girls. I would hate to see you get your feelings hurt.”

Yeah, I bet. I managed to keep my facial expression neutral even as her words hit home. Hadn’t Reid suggested the same thing? He didn’t want to risk another relationship right now. He’d inadvertently hurt a woman the last time he’d gotten involved with someone new after breaking up with Vanessa. “Your concern is touching.”

She shrugged, turning to Reid who’d arrived in time to hear my last words.

I took the drink from his hand before he had a chance to set it on the table.

“I always try to do right by my two boys. Now then, Reid, have you spoken with Chance yet?”

“No, we aren’t speaking at the moment.” He slipped his mother’s martini on the table before landing a kiss on my cheek.

“You two are brothers and the only siblings you each have.”

“Actually, we have six other half-siblings courtesy of your first husband.”

Her heavily botoxed face might have been frowning. “They hardly count. That you would bring them up displeases me. Chance will be here for the weekend, so you should take the opportunity to make up.”

The news settled like a pit in my stomach. I knew Chance’s presence would make this weekend much more uncomfortable for Reid.

“We’re not making up, Mother. What he did is unforgivable,” Reid said between clenched teeth.

“Nothing is unforgivable when it comes to family. Now then, I’m off to catch up with Vanessa’s parents. After all, we both want to see you two back together where you belong.”

My date appeared as though he needed a stiff drink.

As soon as she left, I leaned over to whisper, “So, I think your mom really likes me.”

He burst out laughing. “I’d be worried if she actually did. Don’t take it personally—she doesn’t like me much either. What did she say to you?”

“Something about a cocker spaniel, and me living in the desert with no history. To be honest, I was too busy waiting on the next drink to pay too much attention.”

He shook his head. “Let me apologize, both for her words and for what you’re about to endure this entire weekend. It’s bound to suck.”

I lifted my glass to his. “Here’s to sucking.”

He clinked his glass of bourbon to mine. “So long as it’s not on any part of my brother.”

Dammit. My drink hit my throat wrong, and bam, I was coughing again.

But Reid was on it, taking my drink from my hand and patting my back gently. His expression was apologetic. “Sorry, did I go too far?”

“Hi, have we met? No, you didn’t go too far. Just unexpected humor, I can appreciate, even if my drink does not.”

His smile was the type that kicked me straight in the gut. Intimate, sincere, and focused on me. Suddenly, all the blood was rushing to my head.

“Are your nuts still warm and toasty?”

I needed to get myself together and remember what this was. A pretense. “Yeah, I’m good now.”

We talked some more over appetizers and drinks until two guys came up. Reid introduced them as Kevin and Chris, one was the groom-to-be and another groomsman.

“Nice to meet you.” I shook both their outstretched hands. Both seemed nice but kept giving me looks as if they were weirded out to see someone new with their friend.

Suddenly Kevin winced. “We’re being beckoned for pictures. You don’t mind if we steal your date, do you, Teagan?”

“Not at all.”

But Reid took my hand. “Do you want to come out on the patio and watch?”

Watch him be photographed with his ex-fiancée? Having a root canal sounded more fun. “Sure. I’ll swing by the bar again and join you soon.”

I needed something stronger than my current cocktail to get through the night. I hold my own, but alcohol certainly helped in the endeavor. The designer dress, high-fashion shoes, and fake pedigree were all starting to wear on me, and this was only the first night.

What I needed was whiskey. It would either be a good or a bad idea as it did tend to fuel my feistiness. But of all situations, this one merited at least one glass.

“Rye whiskey neat,” I ordered from the bartender. While watching him pour, I sensed someone come up beside me.

“Reid drinks bourbon, not rye whiskey,” came the masculine voice.

I tipped the bartender for a generous pour and didn’t bother to make eye contact with the unwelcome intruder. “Who says this is for Reid?” I took a sip and intended to walk away, but the stranger wasn’t done with the conversation.

“Interesting. I would’ve pegged you as a Cosmo or vodka cranberry type of girl.”

My side glance took in the expensive threads before traveling up to the handsome face they belonged to. There was a familiarity I couldn’t quite place. I pasted on a smile, figuring he was just another rich bastard here for the wedding. “And what would give you that idea?”

He shrugged. “A fruity drink tends to go with the Jimmy Choos and Prada purse.”

I didn’t miss the disdain in his tone. “Ah, says the guy wearing a three-thousand-dollar suit. Let me guess. You’re a Scotch guy.”

“Four-thousand-dollar suit, and no, I’ll have a bourbon, neat. Blanton’s if you have it,” he directed toward the bartender.

The bartender was quick to produce a bottle from the cabinet and gave another generous pour. “Here you are, Mr. Maxwell.”

Maxwell. Ah, this had to be the infamous older brother.

“I propose a toast.” He turned fully to face me and held up his drink.

The similarity to Reid was there in his eyes, nose, and full lips. Yet while Reid had a youthfulness in his face and kind eyes, Chance was definitely sharper in his features and harder in his edges. Rather than the freshly shaved and neat look Reid sported, his brother wore a five o’clock shadow.

My brow lifted along with the veil of pretense. This wasn’t a guy on whom I needed to waste any fake niceties. “A toast to what, pray tell?”

“How about to you being the rebound girl?”

At least his insult wasn’t wrapped in a fake smile. Just pure asshole laid out there for all. I held up my glass and clinked it against his. “How perfectly unoriginal. I have to say, having heard your reputation, Chance, I expected more from you.”

His jaw tic was immensely satisfying.

“You know, for a guy who went to all the trouble of breaking up Reid and Vanessa, I would guess you’d be happier to see me here.”

“Assuming you aren’t the same type?”

A humorless laugh was my response and I leaned in, so only he could hear me. “Don’t let the designer dress and overpriced shoes fool you. I’m nothing like Vanessa. For instance, I haven’t once thought of sucking your dick, and it’s been a whole two minutes.”

I slammed back the rest of my whiskey before giving him one last satisfied smirk and walking off.

Fuck him and the rest of this crowd. Jesus, was it any wonder Reid had moved to the other side of the world? After twenty minutes with these pretentious jerks, I didn’t blame him.

As I walked out to the terrace, my eyes found my date immediately in the group of men currently posing for a photographer. Over to the side were several women waiting their turn to join them. It took only a moment to find Vanessa.

She looked similar to when I’d seen her last year in Dubai. As much as I’d have loved to mentally pick apart her appearance, I couldn’t. She was stunning in a strapless black-and-white dress, her makeup was flawless, and her long blond hair flowed straight down her back. Whereas I was tall and curvy, she was petite and slender. If glamorous Barbie could come to life, Reid’s ex is what she’d look like, right down to the perfectly whitened teeth.

She was standing next to the bride and another bridesmaid. They were all staring over my way without disguising their disdain. Damn. I should’ve grabbed another drink to have in hand.

Despite their gaping, I didn’t bother to avert my eyes. It wasn’t my style to be intimidated or insecure in the face of scrutiny. Hell, over the years I’d perfected indifference.

“Hi, are you Teagan?” A voice from my left side belonged to a woman who appeared to be about my age. She had a kind expression and big brown eyes.

A friendly smile. Oh, how I’d missed thee. “Yes, I am.”

“I’m Ellen, Phil’s wife.”

The nice people Reid had mentioned. “It’s great to meet you.”

“You too. When Phil told me you’d be here, I was so relieved. Without you, I feared I’d be standing to the side like this a lot this weekend, all by myself.”

“Thank you for coming over here. It’s nice to see a friendly smile.” Ellen was adorable with her heart-shaped face and stunning olive skin.

She glanced toward the bride’s wedding party. “Believe me. Same.”

When the photographer called the group of women over to stand with the men, my eyes tracked Reid to gauge his first reaction to his ex. The stiff shoulders, the set jaw—I could practically feel the tension rolling off of him. Especially when they positioned Vanessa next to him.

Was there any question who he’d be paired up with to walk down the aisle? Unbelievable, though it really wasn’t unexpected given the bride was cousin to the woman who wanted him back.

I noted Vanessa’s gloating smile pointed in my direction as she conversed with my man.

My man? That was the whiskey talking. But he was my man as far as anyone else knew. As if sensing my annoyance, Ellen spoke again.

“I don’t know how you’re doing it. This weekend is bound to be hell for you.”

My eyes collided with Reid’s, and my smirk said “remember you’re my date for the weekend.”

I forced myself to relax my shoulders. “I’m sure making my weekend hell is her plan.”

“Just keep in mind who he’s sleeping with tonight. It won’t be her.”

Ellen had more conviction than I did.