I couldn't believe this. I must have been dreaming. I hesitated. "Sounds a lot like how a real relationship progresses."

  "Yeah. Without the pressure and emotions involved. And without the messy breakup at the end."

  I wondered if he'd been burned by one too many bad relationships, too. A fake relationship actually sounded pretty good. Especially with him. I'd get to know him. See what he remembered. See if in real life he really was the knight in shining armor that I remembered.

  "A decoy relationship benefits both of us," he said.

  I looked at him dubiously, but my pulse was racing. "Maybe I'm being dense…"

  "Look at it this way. You're having a PR problem based on love. Or, rather, running away from it. That looks bad for a person in your profession and position. You left a guy at the altar—"

  I held up a finger. "Not at the altar. I was running away from a dress fitting."

  "Doesn't matter. People see you running away in a wedding dress. That's what they remember. Which gives you a PR problem. Now, if you give them a new fantasy relationship to believe in, a decoy to take their focus off that video of you running away, you're golden. Suddenly you're not running away from love. You're running to it. With a billionaire, no less." He grinned.

  "You're full of yourself."

  He out and out laughed. "Just stating the facts."

  "It's rude to talk about money."

  "Not when you're a billionaire. " His eyes danced. "If you've got it, flaunt it."

  I bit my lip, mulling it over. He had a point. I could see the benefits. To me, at least. More than he knew. "What do you get? My silence about the dog rape?"

  "Dog rape? I thought it was just nonconsensual sex. Now it's rape?"

  I played coy and shrugged.

  "Do I get your silence?" he asked.

  "I'm assuming that's part of the deal," I said. "But I already promised it. So. You were saying?"

  "I get the media, my mom, my friends, and the office off my back about being a workaholic with no life and no girlfriend. I get a new 'girlfriend' who loves dogs as much as I do. A potentially great PR campaign about how a broken leash led to true love and puppies. A cute puppy love story between Charlie and Bella."

  The way he talked, even I was beginning to believe his baloney and get a sweet "ah, isn't that cute" feeling. About Charlie and Bella, at least. I could see this story playing out well for both of us.

  "And if I don't show up with a plus-one for this wedding, I'm dog meat," he said. "I'll be thrown to the dogs, a casualty of the battle to find true love. Be fresh meat for all the single ladies of the wedding party and beyond." He looked upward. "Bad puns. I'm usually better. But you get my drift.

  "If it sweetens the pot any, I'm close to the groom's family. There are ten bridesmaids and ten groomsmen. At least half of them are engaged. They all have money. They're well connected. If even one of the brides-to-be hires you and gives you their endorsement, you're out of the doghouse."

  "You can't help yourself, can you?" I said.

  "I'll stop." He became serious. "I don't have time for a girlfriend. A fake is the perfect solution."

  "Fake girlfriends don't take time?"

  "Fake girlfriends understand when I'm busy."

  "I see. And fake boyfriends? Do they shower me with gifts?"

  He laughed again. "Fake boyfriends take you out and show you off and talk you up. When they have time. They keep the heat off you. Stick it to those trolls commenting on your video. Yeah, I read the comments. We're going to be potential doggy grandparents together. Let's get to know each other. What do you say?"

  "We haven't discussed terms for this fake relationship."

  "Very astute. I like a woman who knows her worth. Even better when she knows how to negotiate. The terms are simple. We start with the wedding this weekend. It's an all-weekend event."

  "This is a three-day weekend coming up," I said. "You want me to sacrifice that? Three whole days?"

  "You have better plans?"

  I had. But not now. I was originally supposed to be getting married. "Not now. Not really. Sleeping in. Hiding out. I'm supposed to be in mourning over my cancelled wedding. And dodging people who troll runaway bride videos."

  "Sounds hard to compete with." He winked. "I think I can top it. There will be cake."

  I tapped my chin. "Cake? I didn't see that coming. That changes everything." I rolled my eyes playfully.

  "The bride's family has rented out an entire resort. Nice place. Upscale. By a waterfall. It has a pool. Spa. Pack your bikini. I'll pick you up Saturday morning and deposit you home on Monday."

  "We share a room?"

  "I can bunk with the guys if that's what you want. As long as we sell ourselves as into each other."

  "And after the wedding?" I asked.

  "We play it by ear."

  I considered a moment. "Okay. Yes." I was almost breathless with excitement and terror.

  His face lit up. "Fantastic." He gave me that look again. That where-do-I-know-her-from look. "You're so familiar. I feel like I know you. Like we've met before."

  "Me too." I took advantage of the opportunity to gawk at him and enjoy the sight. "Like we've fake-met before."

  This was excellent. He'd just given me an out. If at some point he recognized me, I could have a coinciding epiphany. Especially now that we each had something on the other.

  "Exactly. Like we've fake-known each other all our lives." His beautiful eyes narrowed. He shook his head. "I can't place you. It's bugging the hell out of me."

  I shrugged. "Sorry."

  He sighed. "I guess this is where I ask you for your number."

  It was adorable the way he acted out of practice with dating. I rattled off my number as he typed it into his contact list.

  When he was finished, he texted me. "Now you have my number. I texted you the details and schedule of events. Pack for fun. Pick you up at ten on Saturday?"

  "Sounds good." I tossed the Broiler bag in the trash and grabbed my purse.

  "Wait," he said. "You'll need a dog-sitter for Bella. I can arrange that."

  "Thanks. That would be great."

  "I'd like to meet her."

  My heart stopped. I hoped he wasn't going to ask to see her papers.

  "You live in West Seattle?"

  I nodded.

  "Are you busy tomorrow night?"

  "Why?" My heart beat like it was a little too excited. This is just a fake relationship, Shel.

  "I thought I might pop out to West Seattle and see the scene of the crime. Check out the groomer. Meet Bella. Take you out for a bite to eat so we can discuss our strategy for the weekend."

  "There's a walk-up burger bar," I said.

  "I know the one."

  "Bella and I will meet you there at eight."

  Chapter 6

  Dex (Seizer of opportunities, strange and otherwise. Grasper of fate. Fake relationshipper. Guy about to conquer the PR world with a cute story of puppy love. Awww.)

  As soon as I got back to my office, I texted my RSVP for a plus-one to Adam's wedding. Yeah. It was late. Really late. Past the RSVP deadline, obviously. By a month or more. Which meant there would be no more rooms at the inn, so to speak. Shelby and I would be bunking together in my already RSVPed room.

  Smooth move, self. Way to get the girl.

  Yeah, it was a roll of the dice. There was a good chance I'd be sleeping on the floor of one of my buddies' rooms. Who was going who was still single?

  I frowned. The single guy was becoming a dying breed among my friend group. Was I the last one? I ticked off my friends on my fingers—Justin and Kayla were going, but they were leaving the kids home. Ellie would be there with Christopher…

  I wondered if I could request a roll-away bed.

  I laughed at myself. What would people think? It was our "first date." So we could be forgiven for taking things slow. But I had a billionaire playboy reputation to build.

  Yeah, build. Not maintain. And I realized I was still using dogs to get the girl. Not that that had worked spectacularly well in the past. But a guy had to keep trying.

  I immediately got a text back from the wedding coordinator. It's lovely you're bringing a guest. The bridal couple and family are looking forward to meeting her. You'll have to share a room. I hope that's not a problem?

  I replied, Perfect. Not a problem.

  Lovely. Your guest is on the guest list.

  Back to the roll-away bed. How bad would it look if I were seen carrying in a sleeping bag and cot?

  There was something about Shelby that intrigued me. I was impetuous. I seized opportunities based on gut feelings. I jumped at adventure. I took risks. But not generally where women were concerned. I had no idea where the idea to solve my problem by asking Shelby to the wedding came from. It just popped in there. And made my pulse race.

  A knock on the door startled me.

  Ellie poked her head in. "How'd the interview go? And what was all that commotion about on our first floor? I heard Top Dog was accused of bad behavior and he and Leo took advantage of Courtney's guest's leg?" Ellie frowned as she stepped into my office and closed the door behind her.

  "You heard correctly. And the interview went great."

  "You're amazingly calm, given this could be a PR nightmare." Ellie took a seat across from me. "Wasn't Charlie at the groomer's? Did he get away?"

  "I've already investigated," I said. "He did. Broken leash as he came out of the groomer's. He took off. She found him near a park."

  "So the accusation is most likely true?" Ellie asked.

  "It looks that way."

  "That's bad PR, Dex." She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair. "What are we going to do about it?"

  "I've already taken care of it." I grinned. "I'm taking Shelby to Adam's wedding as my date."

  Ellie's mouth fell open. She was used to my pranks and offbeat managing style. Catching her off guard was priceless.

  "You're kidding."

  "Would I kid about something like this?" I said. "I thought you'd be happy. Not two hours ago, you were telling me I needed a date for the wedding. And yours. If this works out, problem solved. And it's going to make a great PR campaign."

  "You would think of a way to spin this into a business advantage. I can't believe it. You asked a complete stranger away for a three-day weekend?"

  "No guts. No glory." I winked and lowered my voice. "Damage control, El. I'm keeping a tight eye on her."

  "Oh, boy." Ellie looked heavenward. "This is going to be interesting. Paige is going to be so unhappy with you. I think she thought she had you."

  "Yeah."

  Ellie shook her head. "Why does life have to be complicated? Why couldn't you just fall in love with Paige? She's a nice girl. You know Charles thinks of you like a son. I think he likes you better than Adam, if the truth be told. All he really wants is to officially make you part of the family."

  I shrugged. "Love's fickle. I'd love to be in love with Paige as much as anyone. But it isn't going to happen."

  "What's your date's name?" Ellie asked.

  "Shelby Hudson."

  "At least you know her name."

  "I didn't know that was a test," I said.

  Ellie laughed. "More like a quiz. I hope Shelby knows what she's in for this weekend. All barrels are going to be aimed at breaking you two up."

  And that was why a fake relationship was genius. "Bring 'em on. By the way, I expect you to have my back, good friend and employee."

  "Partner, you mean." Ellie sighed. "You're up to something. I can see it. I just don't know what."

  "You haven't answered my question."

  "I'll always have your back," she said. "But someone really should warn poor Shelby. Paige doesn't play fair."

  Chapter 7

  Sometimes a Fantasy

  Shelby (Lucky escaper. Billionaire dater—almost. Big grinner. Hopeless romantic.)

  All the way home on the bus, I grinned like I'd just won the lottery. And maybe I had. I have a date with a billionaire ran on an endless loop in my mind. Over and over again. And, I have to say, it didn't get the even the least bit tiring.

  I have a date with him—hero, hot gambler, runaway bride aider. I'm his decoy girlfriend.

  Gulp. Swallow my disbelief. Give fate a thumbs-up and an elbow bump. Oh, fate, you capricious little prankster.

  I have a date with him. Him, him, him, him. Him.

  What were the odds of ever running into him again? Of finding out his name? Dex is a great name, by the way. Of meeting his dog. Of actually getting a date with him. Dreams really do come true. I kept wanting to pinch myself. And hoping this wasn't a dream I'd wake up from.

  I was so distracted that I nearly missed my bus stop. When I got home, Bella was amazingly cool and mature. Like now she was a woman. Or, in her case, a mature bitch. Now that she was sexually experienced, the things of puppyhood and young adult life were behind her. And maybe beneath her.

  She didn't charge me like usual. Instead, she casually strolled to meet me when I walked in the door. Her little peach butt wiggled in a way that was almost comically sedate. "You don't know how much trouble you caused me, you little flirt."

  She barked and headed for the doggy door.

  "Fine. I get it." I took her out in the backyard to do her business, watching her with an eagle eye. I didn't trust either her, or the faulty gate and its unhinged latch. Bella didn't so much as glance in its direction.

  Little minx. Now you behave yourself.

  She had the audacity to lead the way back inside.

  "I met your lover," I said to her in my most casual tone.

  Bella stopped in her tracks and cocked her head.

  "Jealous now? I bet you are. You didn't get his name, did you? Or his contact info." I bent down and scooped her up, scratching her behind her ears the way she loved. "You're dying to know where I saw him. Where he lives. To be honest, I don't know where he lives. But I'll wager he has it made. His owner is loaded.

  "During the day, though, he goes to work with his owner at Puppy Love. You'd love it there. All kinds of dogs to pal around with, a dog run, and a dog park right inside."

  Bella barked, like Spill it, sister.

  "All right. I know. Get to the good stuff. Your boyfriend's a handsome stud. I'll give you that. It's hard to fault you, really. Who doesn't love a bad boy, right? You're just lucky this one has a great pedigree. If you'd slummed it with a mutt, you'd be in real trouble. This isn't a movie. No Bella and the Tramp, for us, right?"

  She barked as if she were answering me.

  "His owner isn't too bad, either." I sat on the sofa with Bella in my lap. "You know him. Though maybe you were too young to remember. You met him the night I got you. Remember that? He rescued us after I ran from almost making the biggest mistake of my life. He's our knight in shining armor. But…why doesn't he remember us?" I stroked Bella, my mind elsewhere. "Should we be insulted?"

  I pulled my phone out. It had been so crowded on the bus that I'd barely been able to move my arms, let along dig my phone out. I'd been content to float along in my own thoughts. But I was dying of curiosity about this wedding I was going to. I brought up the text from Dex, which I'd only barely glanced at before.

  Whoa. The Hudson/Kangley Wedding.

  My jaw dropped. I was going to the wedding of the season—Chrissy Hudson and Adam Kangley, son of Seattle business magnate Charles Kangley. Everyone I knew in the industry—from altar designers to wedding planners—had been vying for a piece of that lavish, and lucrative, pie.

  Even I had put a bid in. You'd think that since the bride and I shared the same last name, I'd have had an in. But we were no relation. Adam and Chrissy had gone traditional on me, choosing formal calligraphy and engraved invitations and save-the-dates over the more casual hand lettering. None of us on the casual side had had a shot at it. I knew the calligrapher who'd gotten the job. She was a master penman. Her work was exquisite. She'd done work for the White House under several administrations. She was deserving. I gave the couple points for picking her.

  Given all this, this wasn't the kind of wedding you wore any old thing to.

  "I need a need a new dress," I said to Bella, petting her mindlessly. But given the current dismal state of my bank account right now…

  No one tells you that even a breakup can strain your finances. I'd lost money on that relationship, for sure.

  I was a pauper right now, but I needed to play a princess. Fortunately, I had connections and friends in the wedding industry. Generous friends who would help me out. Again. The same friends who'd graciously given me deals for my wedding to Mitch. And refunds when it fell through.

  I also had experience—I'd seen brides pull off extravagant-looking weddings on a relative shoestring budget. I knew their tricks. I knew all the places to rent or buy formal gowns for discount prices. And friends who would give me the best deal.

  I was the queen of making less look like more.

  Something vintage, I thought. And classic.

  There was no way I could afford current high fashion. No way I could even try to keep up with the wealthy crowd that would be at the wedding. When you can't compete, punt. Zig where they zag. I knew the drill. I knew the secrets. Show up with confidence and your own style.

  Show them how creative you are, Shel.

  Vintage covered a multitude of financial shortcomings. And I knew just the person to help me.

  I felt a bit like Cinderella trying to get ready for the ball on short resources. I made a mental checklist of the appointments I needed and the favors I'd have to call in. Hair. Nails.

  I looked at the invitation again. It was an evening wedding. The invitation clearly said it was formal. Everything I remembered about the excitement over it said it was formal.

  I texted Dex. This wedding is formal.

  His response was immediate. Not backing out, I hope?

  Not on your life. But you better drag out the black tie. I have connections if you need a good rental. Say the word and I can get you a great discount.

  I was pulling his chain. I wasn't lying. I could. But a man with his money could afford anything.