My Silver Lining: A Small Town, Fake Dating Romance (Rosewood River Series Book 2)
My Silver Lining: Chapter 2

“I’m totally down with the small-town vibes here,” I said, sipping my pumpkin chai latte with a shot of espresso and caramel drizzle. “And they even do custom orders at this adorable coffee shop.”

Henley shook her head. “Well, aside from the fact that on your first day in town, you throat punched Easton’s brother.”

“Listen, that guy had it coming. He came slinking down the hallway unannounced, like some sort of predator. I can’t help it if my bat senses were screaming stranger danger. Coach Jones was very impressed with my quick reaction when I told him about it.” I leaned back in my chair, glancing at the cute chandelier hanging above. Rosewood Brew Coffee had this sort of French farmhouse vibe. I liked that everything was slower here. Calmer, in a sense.

Well, aside from the intruder a few days ago who turned out to be the brother of my best friend’s boyfriend.

“Lu,” she said over her laughter. “It’s his brother’s house. He’s living in the guesthouse. He’s far from a predator.”

“And how would I possibly know that?”

She shook her head. “He said you were stronger than you looked. I don’t think he’ll be coming around anytime soon.”

“He was downing chocolate chips minutes after. I think he’ll be just fine.” I quirked a brow. “Rafael seems like trouble anyway.”

Her head tipped back in laughter. “Rafe is not trouble. He’s a really good guy.”

“He oozes big dick energy, and that’s always a big red flag for me.” I shrugged. “It’s best to scare those types off right from the start.”

“You’re ridiculous. He’s Easton’s brother, so you better lighten up. He’s got a big family, and you’re coming to Sunday dinner with me tomorrow.”

“Fine. But you know family dinners freak me out. Why do you think I arrived early? My family vacation was an absolute nightmare.”

“Okay, so finish telling me what happened. I know you said that Charlotte was being judgy, per usual. She’s always given off haughty vibes, but it sounds like she’s getting worse.”

Charlotte Sonnet was my cousin. She was my Uncle Charles’s daughter on my father’s side, and she’s always had this edge about her. Normally, I enjoyed a woman with an edge, but not the bitchy kind of edge that my cousin had. She was four years older than me and acted like I was the dirt beneath her manicured fingernails. I’ve dragged Henley to plenty of family gatherings, and she’s seen my cousin in rare form many times.

“Worse is an understatement.”

“I mean, she did marry a congressman and have a wedding fit for a royal,” Henley chuckled. “Her ego is clearly even bigger now. Let me guess, she brought up the fact that Beckett made a scene at the last family get-together?”

Beckett Bane was my ex-boyfriend, and also the lead singer of the biggest boy band of our generation, Tier One. He was a thorn in my side, a pain in my ass, and the bane to my existence.

All the puns intended.

We broke up over a year ago, yet whenever he returned from tour, he made every attempt to rekindle things with me, much to my family’s disdain.

My father was still fuming about the holiday dinner that Beckett had crashed with my grandparents in the city, as he’d created quite the embarrassing scene. He flipped a table at Javier’s Steakhouse with the paparazzi there to catch it all on film.

This was the thing about my ex. Most of his meltdowns had very little to do with his feelings for me. It was more about the attention that my last name garnered.

He thrived on media attention like a fraternity bro on spring break.

“Obviously, she brought it up ad nauseam. She made comments at every painful meal we were forced to eat together, asking if we should worry that someone might come in and flip our table.” I rolled my eyes. “We were at the family compound in the Hamptons. That’s not really the douchebag’s hangout of choice.”

Henley used her hand to keep her laughter quiet. “I’ve always thought she was jealous of you. She likes to act like she oozes confidence, but I think she’s very insecure. And that husband of hers just goes along with whatever she says.”

“Ya think? That jackass annoys the hell out of me. He does this thing where he repeats everything she says. As if we didn’t hear her say it the first time.”

“Nooooo. Example, please.”

“Happy to oblige. She would say, ‘I hope no one barrels through the door and flips the table.’ Then he says, ‘Yes, darling, I hope no one flips the table.’ And then she says, ‘This table is an antique and has been in the family for generations.’ He looks me dead in the eyes and says, ‘Did you hear that, Lulu? It’s an antique and has been in the family for generations.’” I used my finger to pretend to make myself vomit.

“Yet you didn’t throat punch him?” Henley asked with a chuckle.

“No. Because every time this would happen, I’d glance at my father, and he didn’t appear irritated with them. All of his frustration was aimed at me.” I took another sip of my tea and set my cup down. “As if I’m responsible for Beckett’s irrational behavior.”

“Listen, you can’t control what he does when he comes into town. You’ve ended things. You’ve blocked him. Your father needs to stop blaming you for everything that asshole does.”

“I know. And most of the time, I’m just trying to survive in this family. It’s not easy being the black sheep, you know?”

“You’re the only normal one in that family.”

“Amen to that, girl.”

“How was your mom? She brought Francois, right?”

Francois Tremblay was my mother’s psychic and spiritual advisor. She relied on him for everything, and he had a weird obsession with my aura. She brought him to any family function with my father’s side of the family because she said he helped keep her centered with the in-laws.

“She sure did. You best buckle up, Hen. This was the reading of all readings. My mother decided to have us all sit around the table, and he literally went from person to person, telling them who they were in their past life. And everyone got to hear what he said because it wasn’t a private reading. It was mortifying.”

“Ohhhh. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I always love hearing what Francois has to say.”

“That’s because it’s always been about the future. And apparently, my future is very bright. However, my past is shady as fuck, and he didn’t hold back.”

More laughter from my best friend as I sipped my tea.

“Tell me.”

“Well, let’s just say that Charlotte was some sort of healer back in the day. She cured some rare disease called Lakacocky, or something crazy like that.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Henley said.

“Because she literally found the cure, and it’s the reason that we’re all alive today.” I blew out a frustrated breath because my cousin’s ego was already too big to fit through the doorway, and now she believed she was the reason we all existed. “And her jackass of a husband was some sort of general back in the day, and he conquered too many places to remember.”

“Oh, boy. What did he say to you?”

“Apparently, I was a very busy lady back in the day. He painted me out to be some sort of colonial whore who had the hots for Ben Franklin,” I hissed, trying hard not to laugh because I couldn’t make this shit up. “Francois said that Ben reciprocated the feelings, but he chose to marry for status, and me being a commoner made it impossible for him to commit to me.”

Henley had tears streaming down her face as she shook her head and tried to speak over her laughter. “He did not say that.”

“Oh, yes. And Charlotte could not have been more invested in my history, nor could her weird-ass husband, who kept staring at me while licking his lips.”

“Well, all the cousins couldn’t have been the reason we’re all still alive today. Someone else must have had a shady past?”

“Wishful thinking. Barron was a king, and he had seven wives, yet for whatever reason, I’m being shamed because I had the hots for one man. And it appears that Cousin Barron hasn’t changed at all. That dude has been engaged four times and never married, yet everyone focuses on my one bad decision of dating the world’s biggest douchebag.” Barron, my eldest cousin, is Charlotte’s older brother, and the first grandson in the family to carry on the Sonnet name. The Sonnets were a well-known political family, as my great-grandfather had been the vice president of the United States back in the day. Two of my uncles were in politics, as well, and Hunter fit in perfectly as a congressman with aspirations of being president someday. Though I think he just liked saying it, and personally, I thought he’d probably hit the height of his career with this recent election.

But I just made jewelry for a living, so what did I know about political aspiration?

“Listen, you know that you’re Gramps’ favorite. And he’s the best, so that’s a win.”

My grandfather is one of my favorite people on the planet, and he’d always been the one who saw me and appreciated me exactly as I was. Everyone else liked to focus on what I’d done wrong.

“That is definitely a win.” I reached for my cup and took another sip. “And now I just have to figure out a believable reason as to why my very serious boyfriend isn’t coming with me to Gramps’ eightieth birthday. Charlotte was questioning me like she worked for the CIA.”

“So they all think you have a serious boyfriend in Rosewood River, right?” Henley asked.

“Yes. My dad was losing his mind over Beckett’s stunt. I already told them that I was seeing someone who was stable and reliable and respectable. I guess I got caught up in the whole thing, because he was ridiculously happy when I’d mention my mystery man. I was actually nervous that Francois would blow my cover.”

Henley shook her head as she took a moment to process my current situation. “Thank goodness Francois was focused on the past.”

“No. It gets even better. He actually helped me out. He told them all that they were going to love this guy, but then he shit on my parade by telling them that I’d be bringing my boyfriend to the big birthday celebration next week,” I groaned. “Trust me, if it were anyone else’s birthday, I would bail and make up an excuse about why I couldn’t make it. But I can’t miss Gramps’ eightieth birthday. So I just need an excuse for my amazing, responsible boyfriend’s absence, and Charlotte is going to be all over me like flies on shit.”

“You could say that he’s sick and you didn’t want to risk getting your grandparents sick.” Henley shrugged. “Did you give a name for this so-called dream boyfriend?”

“I had to think on my feet. I just called him Lover Boy, but of course, my mother, with her French accent, calls him, Love Her Boy.” Now it was my turn to laugh. My mother was fabulously French and creative and quirky. I loved her fiercely, but she was like an attention-challenged whimsical fairy, which made it difficult to have an actual conversation with her about anything serious. My father was a much tougher nut to crack, and as his only child, his expectations were high, as was my ability to let him down. But at the end of the day, I knew they loved me. Being a Sonnet came with a load of pressure, and it could be very exhausting sometimes.

“Okay, so you tell them that Love Her Boy has come down with a bad case of Lakacocky.”

We both fell back in our chairs in a fit of laughter.

“Then I’d have to hear how Charlotte cured the brutal disease,” I said with a groan. “I’ll drop the bomb soon that he’s got a nasty virus. That way I’ll prepare them for him not being able to attend the party.”

Henley suggested, “You could just replace a boyfriend and make things a lot easier.”

“I need a break from toxic men at the moment.” I shrugged.

“You need to get back out there, Lu.”

“Well, that’s going to be very tricky, seeing as I supposedly have a fake boyfriend now. I can’t risk being photographed by the media on a random date. So I’m going to just read lots of dirty romance while I’m in Rosewood River and focus on the new designs for Luxe.”

“I’m so proud of you, Lu. Luxe is the most exclusive department store in France, and they chose to partner with you. Your designs are going to be a known brand worldwide. You created MSL and look how many people love it.”

“I just wish my father would finally recognize the business that I’ve built. He still sees me as the screw-up who dated the toxic rock star. Like what does it take to realize I’m not that girl anymore? Anyway, the fact that I have this amazing man in Rosewood River finally has him asking about my business, my designs, and my plans.”

“Beckett sucks ass,” Henley said, as she arched a brow. “You could barely stand him the last year you were dating him, not to mention how happy you’ve been in the year since you broke up with him. So, I’m thrilled that you’ve found a wonderful man to settle down with in Rosewood River, even if he is fictional.”

I chuckled. My bestie was the one person who totally got me. She always had my back, and I always had hers. She was the sister that I always wanted. We met in boarding school in ninth grade, and we’d been inseparable since.

“Yeah. It’s going to suck when I have to break up with Love Her Boy when I move to Paris for the launch in three months.”

“Maybe you’ll fall in love with small-town living and tell Paris to suck it.” She winked playfully. “I’m proud of you. And I’ll take the three months that you’re here and enjoy every minute. I wonder how you’ll break up with your soulmate.”

I thought it over, because I’d eventually have to sell the breakup as hard as I sold the relationship. “It can’t be messy. I think I’ll make him a workaholic. I’ll tell my parents he’s too dedicated to his profession, and I just can’t be with someone who’s married to his job. Or I could blame the distance. Geographically undesirable. That’s believable.”

“The poor guy suffered from Lakacocky first, and then he’s a miserable workaholic who lives on the other side of the world in the end. I do hope you and Love Her Boy are at least having lots of good fictional sex right now.”

“Girl, of course, he’s a fabulous lover. The man has the stamina of a high-end porn star. He’s fictional, after all. We can make him anything we want.”

“Sounds like you’ve really built this guy up. It’s a good thing he’s not going to meet your family,” she chuckled.

“No man can fill the shoes of Love Her Boy at this point,” I said, glancing out the window to see the snow coming down harder. “So what does one do with all that snow when you’re living here? I haven’t used a shovel in a very long time.”

“Don’t worry. Easton has someone who comes and shovels the driveway for you. He should be by later today. Or you could always have your hot lover boyfriend shovel for you.”

“Yes. He’s very manly that way. Big arms, big shovel… big dick.”

Henley spewed coffee across the table as we both fell forward in laughter.

Three months in this charming, snow-covered small town, with my best friend and my fictional boyfriend, was exactly what I needed to get my life back on track.