“Against Sharon?” she asked skeptically. “I don’t think so. Even he’s not that good.”
“Uh…guys, I’m right here,” Marcus tried to interject.
I ignored him. “Mark my words. First he’ll charm her with some extravagant gift—a diamond collar for Mugsy—”
“Who’s Mugsy?” he tried again.
“Then he’ll con her by saying all the right words. ‘Oh, isn’t it lovely, Mrs. Wood? Or should I call you…Mom?’”
“I would never play with your mother’s emotions that way.”
“Then, before she fully understands what she’s doing, he’ll whisk her off to some tropical island, butter her up in a little beach hut with perfect clothes, then lure her onto a stage so he can propose marriage in front of half the U.N.”
“Okay, so I admit…that part was over the line.”
Amanda shifted around on the couch. “There were delegates from the U.N. there? What about, like, ambassadors and governors and stuff?”
I shook my head. “I already know where you’re going with this—no one there had the specific jurisdictional authority to expunge our parking tickets—I already checked.”
“Damn,” Amanda said. “Is there any way I can get into this gig? I’m a good actress, and my family would love Marcus. Does he have a brother who needs a fake girlfriend?”
I stifled a smirk.
“I’d even be willing to do a pregnancy announcement on CNN. I’m a lot more flexible then Becca here.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, right. You have Barry now.”
He didn’t rise to take the bait. In fact, he didn’t do anything but stare steadily back at us, his eyes heavy with remorse. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m truly, deeply sorry. I’ll say it as many times as you’d like to hear, and do anything I can to make it right.”
There was a hitch in her breathing, and she glanced at me tentatively. I saw the telltale signs. The “isn’t that adorable” pursing of her lips, the softening of her eyes as she inwardly melted at the eloquent sincerity.
I hit her with a pillow.
Amanda blinked quickly like she was coming up for air. “Shit, you’re right. Sharon doesn’t stand a chance.” She let out another sigh and looked at Marcus. “I’m sure you have to get on the line with your publicist to figure out a way to capitalize on all this media attention.”
“Just ignore her,” I said. “She’s a little overprotective of me. I’ll text you where to meet us tomorrow after we pick up my mom.” I then looked at Amanda. “I’m getting paid for all this publicity stuff. And it’s my job, so stop it.”
“We can renegotiate the contract,” Marcus said. “Since things are far more complicated now.”
“My best friend needs at least $50,000. I mean, now she has to fool her family and friends. And that’s not cool. Plus, she gets to keep the ring and any future jewelry or clothes you purchase for her. And I promise I won’t let her give the stuff away.”
He grinned. “Done.”
She held out her hand. “Then we got a deal.”
“Wait. Isn’t this my deal?” I laughed.
“I’m working on your behalf,” she said. “I should get a cut.”
When she winked, I laughed.
“Oh, wait,” Amanda said. “We have to iron out the kissing clause. Is that allowed?”
I blew out a long breath. “No more kissing. It just gets in the way. We’ll keep it strictly professional. I will do what I was hired to do. Be one hell of a fake girlfriend without tongue.”
He nodded. “I know this is messing up your life. And I know this is my fault, but I’m going to get us through it,” Marcus said, getting down on one knee. “You don’t have to worry—”
“You might want to avoid getting down on one knee, buddy…” Amanda muttered, eyeing his submissive position and sensing the impending explosion.