And asked me to come alone.
That was the part I couldn’t ignore.
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He wasn’t inviting me because he was happy.
Happy people don’t need witnesses to someone else’s humiliation.
Mason wanted to look across that reception room and see his ex-wife standing by herself while he danced with his beautiful new bride.Book Venues
He wanted confirmation that leaving me had been the right choice.
Maybe it was immature.
Maybe I should have thrown the invitation away.
Instead, I called my best friend, Rachel.
She listened quietly.
Then said,
“You need a date.”
“I don’t have one.”
“Then acquire one.”
I laughed.
“Acquire a man?”
“Rent one.”
I stopped laughing.
Rachel did event planning for corporate clients, so I assumed she was joking.
She wasn’t.
“There are agencies,” she said. “Actors. Models. Professional companions. People hire them for reunions, weddings, business events.”
“That is completely insane.”
“Your ex invited you to his wedding specifically so you could attend alone.”
I considered that.
“Okay. Less insane than Mason.”
“Exactly.”
Two days later, Rachel sent me a number.
The agency owner was a woman named Denise.Support Causes
I expected her to laugh when I explained the situation.
Instead, she said, “What kind of impression are we trying to create?”
“I want my ex to believe I’ve moved on.”
“Successful?”
“Preferably.”
“Handsome?”
“Obviously.”
“Affectionate?”
“Not obnoxiously.”
“Interesting?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
Then Denise chuckled.
“I’ve got someone.”
His name was Julian Cross.
We met four days before the wedding at a coffee shop in downtown Richmond.Book Venues
I arrived early.
Then he walked through the door.
And I immediately understood why people paid him to attend things.
Julian was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly handsome.
Dark hair.
Brown eyes.
A charcoal jacket over a plain white shirt.
Not flashy.
Just effortlessly put together.Find Stock Photos
He spotted me, smiled, and came over.
