My eyes narrowed. “Don’t have to worry?”
“I’m just saying, I’m going to take care of this,” he said earnestly. “It’s like you said, in a month or so, it will all be over, and we’ll get back to our happy lives.”
“I’d also keep your face away from her shoes,” Amanda said.
My gaze met his. “The entire world thinks the two of us are getting married because you had the nerve to propose. My mother is flying down from Washington to roast me alive for not mentioning that I’ve apparently fallen in love, and it’s only a matter of time before CNN, NBC, MSNBC, and whatever other news channels there are find me and lay siege to my apartment. We’ll have to build a moat! Deevus will starve because we won’t be able to leave to get him food! The roaches will get sealed in with us!” I sucked in a breath and jumped to my feet, pulling Amanda up too as Marcus went scrambling back. “So tell me again—how exactly do you expect me not to worry?”
“Rebecca,” he said practically, holding up his hands for peace, “Enough with the theatrics. I seriously doubt we’ll have to build a moat—”
“Well, maybe I should just move in with you in that fancy mansion.”
Oh, yeah. He’d hate that! I loved putting him on the spot. Just like he did me with the marriage proposal. But at least I’d have peace and quiet from all the paparazzi that would soon be camped out below my apartment.
He laughed as if I was joking.
“I’m serious, baby doll.”
“Well then, sweetie. I’ll get a room prepared for you ASAP.”
“Okay, we’re moving way too fast. I was just kidding.”
Amanda met his gaze. “If Becca doesn’t want to, I’d be more than welcome to move into the guest quarters.”
I playfully slugged her.
She laughed. “What girl wouldn’t want to stay in that mansion? You saw it at the party. It was mindblowing!”
Marcus suddenly got a phone call and had to immediately leave. I waved goodbye as he rushed off.
Chapter 5
I sometimes wondered if Amanda and I were single-handedly keeping the tequila industry in business.
The bottle lay on the floor between us, spinning empty as we took turns knocking it back and forth. Deevus had been crouched in a wedge between the wall and the television for the last forty minutes waiting for a mouse to make its move.
“Okay, so you get what I mean now? About the eyes?”
Amanda nodded, half-slumped atop a fallen cushion. “Yeah—those eyes are pretty intense. I would have fallen for the eyes too.” She gave the bottle another whirl. “Barry’s eyes are brown.”
“I think brown eyes are the best.”
She shrugged. “They’re pretty. But Marcus’s eyes…they’re dreamy.”
I tilted my head drunkenly to the side. “Well, at least Barry would never take you to a tropical island and fake propose.”
The bottle paused.
“Yeah,” Amanda made a face, “good thing I never have to worry about that.”
We laughed and rolled onto our backs, staring up the creaking ceiling fan is it spun in a long-suffering circle. After a minute, I shook my head.
“No, yo
u’re going to have the perfect proposal. The perfect man. And the perfect wedding. And best of all…it will all be real.”
“Maybe I’ll date Stan downstairs. He’s really quiet and boring. But he’s cute. And I wouldn’t have any drama in my life.”
She shook her head, trying and failing to sit up. “Whoa, your standards have gotten low.”