It’s what bought the five-carat diamond engagement ring on my left hand and the diamond-encrusted wedding band he was sliding onto my finger right now.
Dean liked to be a sugar daddy of sorts and I was just the sort of fixer upper that he adored taking care of.
Before I even bumped into my marks, I studied them extensively. I scoured social media and the tabloids for indications of what they liked. I tailed them for more than a week at a time just to understand who they were and what they wanted in and out of the bedroom, and I was really good at it.
Dean was a very rich man, which meant that he would be a very rich payday for me. It had been less than six months since I’d accidentally knocked into him and spilled his coffee before I insisted on buying him a new one. We’d spent at least four hours together that morning and the whirlwind romance hadn’t stopped since.
I hadn’t let it.
He reached for me and took my hands in his. His hands were firm, dwarfing mine as he squeezed gently.
I slid his own wedding band on his left hand and didn’t meet his eyes. For some reason, the gleeful excitement in his face was something I couldn’t bear to see right now.
Instead I took a deep breath, stared at the floor, and feigned a nervous look, playing the part of an anxious bride.
Get it together, Willow. You’re fucking better than this.
“Then I now pronounce you man and wife,” the priest declared, his voice resolute and firm.
The crowd watching roared and applauded with approval. The beautiful tune of a violin sang above us, and Dean took my hand in his and held it up high in the air, putting us on display together in front of everyone watching.
Every one of them were his guests. No one was there for me.
No one ever was.
I smiled and painted my face with the joy they all expected to see. I just had to play the blissful bride for a little longer before I could disappear forever and move onto my next job.
* * *
After the ceremony, my wedding planner rushed me back to the bridal suite for a wardrobe change for the reception to follow. Whenever possible, I liked to avoid the man I married on the day of the ceremony as much as I could. It minimized the chances of getting found out at the last minute. I couldn’t have that.
My record was perfect. Each job was ridiculously expensive and horrendously time-consuming, but I nailed each one every time.
It was a special sort of talent to be a con woman like me. My skills were dangerous to the rich, no matter what was between their legs. Man or woman, they were all the same.
They all wanted to fall in love.
They all yearned for a best friend.
They all dreamed of the perfect fucking fairy tale.
They wanted it all and I gave them everything they could ever wish for.
Over and over again, because at the end of the day, I didn’t really have a choice. The moment I stopped, I was as good as dead. The organization I worked for didn’t tolerate even an ounce of disobedience and I really didn’t want to find out what it felt like to take a bullet between the eyes.
With a heavy sigh, I fingered the scarlet lace of the racy number I had planned to wear that was waiting for me on its hanger. There was a knock on the door, and I raised my voice just high enough to tell them to enter. My wedding planner’s assistant smiled, and I nodded in greeting. Time to step into Sophia’s persona again.
“Jenny,” I said lightly.
“Sophia,” she replied far too happily. “Are you ready to get out of your wedding dress?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Wearing this mermaid gown is work on my legs,” I laughed, and she chuckled right on cue.
“I wore a similar style at my wedding too. By the end of the day, my inner thighs wanted to scream, but the pictures were beautiful. I just know yours will be too,” she replied.
She was far too fucking cheery.
With a fake happy sigh, I slid my fingers along the soft red lace. Jenny turned me just enough so that she could begin unbuttoning the long line of tiny silk-wrapped buttons that cascaded down the length of my spine. I looked in the mirror one last time, taking in the intricately embroidered sweetheart neckline and slim waist. The fit was perfect, showcasing the gentle curve of my hips and my long lean legs. The embroidery was light pink in contrast to the stark white silk and wrapped down the length of the dress all the way to the hem at my feet in an explosion of color. It was as if I was covered in a bouquet of flowers from my head to my toes.
Like cherry blossoms drifting on the wind.
I had to admit that it was one of the prettier dresses I’d ever worn and even though the ceremony was boring by my standards, I wouldn’t forget that look of pure adoration Dean had when the priest had pronounced us man and wife.
I shook my head.
“Just another minute. There’s a lot of buttons,” Jenny said curtly.
“Did we clock how long it took to get me dressed this morning?”
“At least an hour and that most definitely didn’t include makeup and hair.”
“I imagine Lola has a schedule?” Lola was my wedding planner.
“Yeah. She’s on top of everything like that. We had a big meeting yesterday to make sure everything was perfect for your big day,” she continued.
“Do you do a lot
