Myles’ face went slack with shock. “Are you drunk?”
Piper didn’t take offense at the question. “Sober as a judge. Baptist wedding, remember? Just hear me out. If you show up with some total stranger in tow that you picked up in Vegas or wherever, your grandmother will, I presume, flip her lid.”
He grimaced. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“As executor of the trust, might she have the option to still not give it to you if she thinks you got married strictly for the money?”
“I’d have to check with Tucker to verify, but maybe,” he said slowly.
“Whereas if you come with me, it’s more believable. We have backstory because of the show. As far as they know, we fell for each other on stage, started dating. Six months is quick but not insane crazy short for getting engaged.”
Myles stared at her.
