Can't Buy My Love

Chapter 4

Brynn's POV:

I sat as far as possible from Payton the whole ride. I counted every minute, and I tried to count how many times he tried to scootch closer over the leather seats too, but I lost count after twenty-seven. "Could you mind my freaking space?" I asked him because he was seriously asking to get hit. His smug smile made my stomach churn nastily. He was undeniably attractive, but a lot more pompous than my taste allowed. I vowed to ruin this engagement party if it killed me.

"I'd much rather pop your bubble." The way he said it made it sound dirty, about how though I have no clue. Perhaps the tone, or the smirk, or the smoldering in his gorgeous eyes. OKAY, stop. No. I don't like his attitude. Forget what he looks like. Pretend he's Damen. I liked Damen in fourth grade for fourteen minutes, until he called me ugly. I have hated him since. I can hate this kid too: it's easy, I already do.

We pull up to some ritzy restaurant, and a doorman opens the door to the limo, and I laugh as Payton gives me a dirty look when I let him help me out and wink at him. Suck it. I swing my hips, knowing he's behind me staring...until his hand is around my waist and I give him a look of disgust. He tries to guide me and look all "coupley" as we approach our reserved table, but I spin, literally, out of his grasp and make a beeline for the bathroom.

I'm locked in a stall with one of those crinkly seat protectors beneath my kickass dress, and my heels are propped on the edge of the seat. Someone knocks on the door outside, but I ignore them. When I hear his voice I roll my eyes at the innocent stall. "Seriously? Can you at least PRETEND? We are in public goddammnit. Do not embarrass me Brynn I can make your life just as miserable as you can make mine. Don't do this the hard way, babe. Just let it happen and it'll be the best thing you've ever had." I don't reply. "Brynn, I know you're in there." Silence. Sweet silence.

When I hear him sigh, I wait five minutes until I know he's gone. I dial Ronan's phone, and my heart beats sporadically in my chest. "Hey gorgeous," he answers, and the smile that lights my face is probably lighter than the fluorescents. "Hi Ronan..." As my voice trails off, his reply becomes concerned. "Are you okay? Do you want me to pick you up now?" How tempting... I can't decide how I want to play this out, you know: I could just ditch. Or I could go sit at the table, and then excuse myself and ditch, or I can have Ronan come in...No. I nix the idea. In no way, shape, or form do I want him to know this is my engagement party.

As far as I'm concerned, this is my last night as a free woman. I'm doing this so right. "Pick me up at the Bell in fifteen; I'll be out front waiting." I think he feels my smile through the phone because before I can breathe he says, "On my way baby. Buh-bye." The way he says everything is just so adorable.

I compose myself in the mirror, and take my place at the table. "Nice of you to grace us with your presence," my father says snidely. When he's not looking I stick my tongue out at him. Payton chokes on his water while he lets out a cough. I glance over the menu, uninterested. The only thing I want tonight is a chance to be me. "Well, I'm starving," Harley says, to smooth over the tension. My dad snaps the waiter over, and everyone snaps out their orders.

I, however, have nothing to order. "I'll just start with a glass of wine," I say. My mother shoots me a look, but I reply, "If I'm old enough to be sold into an arranged marriage, I'm sure as hell old enough to have one drink." Her face is stricken as the waiter marks it down. He returns with my wine minutes later, and after I agree to the selection, he pours me a glass and leaves me the bottle at my request. I feel like a rebel. The glass goes down hard and fast, slightly chilled, and I'm on my third before the meals arrive. I check my phone under the table and smile. Showtime.

"I don't feel so good." I make a face, and clutch my stomach convincingly. "I need some air." I get up, and by suggestion via my spineless back stabber of a father, Payton stands as well. "Please Dad," I state, "I said air. Not suffocation." He scoffs but dismisses Payton to sit down again. "Be back soon," I murmur, completely lying through my teeth. Once outside, I breathe, and I feel fine. That wine didn't make me feel anything at all. I'm functioning sober.