Carlos's POV
"Imaginary wife?!" The words hit me like a sledgehammer. This wasn't part of my drunken memories. I recalled Andrew bringing some woman—supposedly Grace's lookalike, though I seriously doubted any resemblance existed.
If there had been even a hint of similarity, I would've been deceived completely. I wouldn't have hesitated for a second.
And creating an imaginary wife? That part was a complete blank.
"Are you screwing with me because I was wasted last night, Andrew?" I shot back.
"I wish I was, Sir," Andrew answered. "I brought Heather Ridley—one of your brief flings. She's not exactly Mrs. Preston' twin, but at least she's got red hair."
Andrew paused, piecing together the night. "She claimed you demanded role-play. You wanted her to become Grace Benjamin—Grace. Your wife and the woman you're obsessed with."
"I actually did that?" The words felt foreign, yet I knew how Grace consumed my thoughts when alcohol loosened my restraints.
