THE KISS

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Five days had passed since Jay had said the only thing that had the same chance of happening as the Big Bang: "Sarah is my girlfriend".

Obviously, it wasn't true and never would be. When his mother left the room after much grimacing and complaining, Jay asked me to play along and pretend to be his girlfriend so he wouldn't be disinherited. He also explained that Penelope was his ex-girlfriend and that he'd do anything not to see her again.

I must admit that this didn't help my self-esteem, which motivated me to refuse at first, but once I found out that the meeting would take place at the Country Club and that almost all the people in the seven photos I'd kept would be there, I accepted.

And well, when I was going to get to pretend to be the girlfriend of a guy like Jay Bradford?

"Are you sure it's going to work?" I asked him, once I'd climbed into his car, parked two blocks from Chillz.

"Of course, I told you already," said Jay, starting the car. "Blaze would never lie to me. If he said he'll cover for us, he will."

I was twitching my legs nervously. The mere thought of being surrounded by those people again made me feel bad. If I added the fact that among them might be the person who had taken me into that room, it was impossible for me to calm myself down.

I lowered the mirror and looked at myself: I was wearing a pink shirt and white jeans. I fixed my braid, thinking that maybe I should have put on a bit more makeup instead of only some stupid mascara. I lowered my gaze and scrutinized Jay out of the corner of my eye. He certainly wasn't as awkward as me. Who knows how many such events he had gone to before. Judging by his impeccable attire I would have said he was a regular: a white shirt with smart detailing and silver buttons, plus tailored grey trousers which left little to the imagination, delicately covered a body that seemed to be more toned every day.

Now I was sure that mascara would never be enough for me not to be shown up next to him.

We arrived in under half an hour. The Country Club was located east of Goldmist, on a property covered with huge golf courses, a lake, a swimming pool, numerous restaurants and spas. The whole thing was dominated by a hill on which stood a castle, which was the main building. It was there that we would be meeting with the crème de la crème of high society.

"Don't worry about today," said Jay, as we headed to the club entrance. "It's just lunch with bored rich people."

"Never underestimate a bored rich person," I observed, asking myself why the most important country club in the city had decided to make its customers take such a long path to get to the entrance. "And I already know how it will end. It will be another chance for me to become a laughing stock."

He stopped suddenly.

"Where's the daisy you always put in your braid?"

"It would have been silly to wear it around such important people," I said, surprised by his question.

He turned and picked one of the many wild daisies from the grass that surrounded us.

"Here," he said, handing it to me.

"But they'll laugh at me," I complained. "Using flowers as accessories is dumb, I should have understood that before."

"I think there's nothing more sensual than a flower," he said, showing me his wonderful dimples again.

He walked a few feet and picked a wild poppy. He turned to me, hands resting on his hips, with the red flower hanging from his soft lower lip and his eyes, which shone in the sunlight as if they were made of honey, fixed on mine.

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