by Flite, Nora
“I got your email. Couldn't even send a paper invite, how tacky.”
Everything was moving through molasses. I turned to stare at my computer screen, saw Conner was staring at me. His handsome face was scrunched with worry lines. I could only imagine how pale I was. The blood kept draining from my face when I confirmed that, yes, I'd managed to email the digital invite not to the printing company... but to every.
Single.
Person.
In my contacts.
I was screwed.
Chapter 13
The Plan
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Conner asked me.
I was standing by my desk and punching my knuckles into my hip. I hadn't stopped since hanging up on Aubrey. “I'm—ow! Punishing my stupid ass for betraying me! I sat on my keyboard and sent our fake wedding invite to—ouch! To everyone I know!”
His eyes widened. He reached out, catching my wrist, stopping me from bruising myself further. “Calm down! It can't be that bad!”
“Five hundred,” I groaned.
“What?”
“I sent that email... to five hundred people, Conner.” I hung my head until my chin dug into my chest. Tears were burning behind my eyelids—I was furious with myself. “I never make mistakes like this! I'm so careful, I plan everything I do, and then I go and email five hundred people about my oncoming not even real wedding?”
“Hey. Hey!” He gave me a little shake. My eyes lifted just enough so I could see his serious, fierce expression. He looked ready to fight with me... or take on the world for me... and because of that intensity, I wasn't ready for what he said next. “It's our fake wedding. Have a little decency.”
Laughter exploded out of me. A few tears rolled down my cheeks. “Stop it, don't try and make me laugh. This is awful.”
His grip loosened on me, but he didn't let me go. His chest flexed as he leaned closer to me, pushing me against my desk, reminding me what we'd done just minutes ago. “We can fix this, Maya.”
“How? It's not just about the fact all these people—some of them nearly strangers to me—know about the wedding. I emailed people I consider very important to me. Aubrey, she's pissed, and she has a right to be. It looks like I went 'Oh, hey, no big but I'm getting hitched, just a heads up!'” I made a face, disgusted with myself. “If this were real...”
There—a deeper line crinkled up between his brows. I caught it, recognized it for what it was.
He didn't like me saying what we had wasn't real.
“I mean,” I said quickly, scrambling to explain myself, “If the wedding was real, not...”
“Us?” he asked, chuckling humorlessly. “It's okay, Maya. I know what you meant.”
His body was slumping in front of me. I hated knowing I'd done this to him. “Hey.” I tucked my hand under his jaw, copying how he'd forced me to look at him earlier. “Quit breaking the scene. Even if it's just us, we're supposed to be playing this out like it's real until I say the safe word, and I haven't yet. Got it?”
He squinted, like he was testing me, expecting me to backpedal because my request was super dumb. But he'd said the same stuff to me at my grandfather's farm. I knew he wasn't a hypocrite.
Conner took a deep breath, then hugged me tight. “I'm sorry your friend is hurt. We can fix this, though.”
“How?” I mumbled. “Ugh. I suck.”
“Make her your maid of honor. Let her throw you a bridal party and thank her profusely. Kiss her ass.”
“That might work. But it would be a lot of kissing.”
“You have my permission to kiss her ass as much as necessary... as long as it means you stop harming this one.” He gave my hip a squeeze, his eyes smoldering.
Throwing my arms around his neck, then my legs around his middle, I kissed him hard. “Deal,” I laughed. “My ass is in good hands.”
“I'll say,” he growled, palming my soft rear. “I'd love a round two, but you should probably call Aubrey.”
It struck me as surprising that he'd pick my friend's feelings over his own desires. He clearly wanted to fuck me. Ben wouldn't have spared a thought for Aubrey. He was always selfish.
“What's wrong? You're frowning.”
“I am?” I asked, climbing off of Conner. I gave my cheeks a light tap. “Forget it. I just had a weird thought.”
“I like weird.”
“I know.” On tip-toe I kissed him once more—short and sweet. “I'm super weird and you definitely like me.”
Conner inhaled, staring at me like he was fighting his urge to snatch me back into his arms. “I more than like you, Cherry.”
My heart jumped into my throat. “How much more?”
His lips spread apart, but whatever he was going to say, he swallowed it back down. Three seconds passed—I counted each of them, cursed every single one, as I waited for him to tell me what I wanted to hear. What I was terrified to hear.
He looked at the ring on my hand. “Enough to ask you to marry me,” he said earnestly. And then we were back in our fantasy world, leaving me wondering how much of what he said, and what he felt, was real.
We put our clothes back on in silence. “I'll call her in the conference room,” I said, pointing. “Feel free to go get something to eat down the street.”
“You don't want me to wait for you?”
“I don't know how long this is going to take. I'd feel better if I knew you weren't starving.”
“That's fair. We can meet up later, I'll take you to dinner.”
“Thanks. I'll text you when I have news.” Left alone in the conference room, I didn't hesitate to call Aubrey. Her name blinked on my screen—after the third ring, I worried she wouldn't answer me. Then I heard her voice.
“What do you want?” she huffed.
“Aubrey, I'm incredibly sorry! Those invites weren't supposed to be sent yet, and definitely not emailed!”
“Great. Cool. So you were going to wait longer to tell me about your upcoming surprise wedding.”
I cringed. “No, no! I just... ugh. This is complicated.”
“Not as complicated as planning a wedding without your best friend.”
“Aubrey! That's not what I was doing! You know me.”
“I'm not sure I do,” she grumbled. “Who the hell is Conner Whynn? Is that a real name, is he even real?”
“It is. He, and his name, are very very real.” Pacing the room, I tried to choose my words carefully. This was a field full of landmines. “Conner proposed to me and things have been in hyper-drive ever since.”
“Stop talking about how fast it happened!” she yelled, shutting me up. Her voice trembled when she spoke next. “I don't care how fast it happened. I care that you didn't say a word to me about him.”
I listened to her breathing through my phone. Heavy, scratchy, like a bird beating its wings against a window as it tried to escape. “I'm sorry,” I whispered sincerely. “You're right. Speed isn't an excuse for keeping secrets.”
“No,” she agreed, her voice softening. “It's not. Maya, what's really going on here?”
“I want to tell you so badly.”
“Then just do it.”
I bit the corner of my lip until it bled. In seconds I'd crossed one side of the long conference table to the next, walking at a pace that had me sweating. Tell her? Was that an option?
“I can't,” I blurted.
“Are you fucking serious—”
“Not over the phone.” Jogging from the room, I snatched my purse off of my desk and didn't slow down. “Meet me at the Green Olive outside your building. I'll tell you everything.”
Chapter 14
Message Received
“YOU'RE DOING ALL OF this for your mom?”
It was barely noon but I was double fisting cold beers and trying to catch the waiter's attention for round three. “Yes,” I said. “Why else would I have asked someone I barely know to pretend to be my fiancé?”
Aubrey stared me down as she slowly stirred her spoon through
her vanilla milkshake. “You're right. It's the only thing that makes sense.”
“Does that mean you believe me?”
“How could I not? The alternative is you met a stranger online, hooked up with him one night, then decided it was super smart to say yes to his out of the blue proposal because you were both head over heels in love at first sight,” she said bluntly.
I squirmed in my seat. I really really needed that third beer. “Uh huh.”
“And you're not some moron who agrees to marry a stranger because of love. You're too intelligent for that. Too wise.”
“Mmhmm,” I mumbled.
“Yeah, a fake marriage to help your mom is the only thing on this earth that would convince me you aren't fucking insane, Maya. Crazy god damn loco with a straight-jacket style wedding dress waiting in the wings—”
“Enough!” I snapped. “You've made your point, you don't need to rub it in!” That was when I noticed the edges of her smug smile. My anger deflated. “Wait, were you trying to make me mad?”
“You fell right into my trap!” Sighing dramatically, she shook her head as she slid around in the red-vinyl booth seat. “I can't believe you've got the hots for someone you hardly know. Worse, someone I've never even seen! Show me a photo of him.”
The waiter appeared near my elbow. “Would you like a refill?”
“Yes,” I said, straining the word. He hurried off with a side-glance at me. I knew I sounded like an alcoholic but I couldn't do this conversation without something to dull the edges.
Aubrey waggled her eyebrows. “Photos. Now. Or I'll keep being angry.”
“That's so childish.”
“Yup! Gimme the photos, girl.”
Mortified, I opened the dating app and navigated to his profile. He had a few sexy pictures, but also some that were more casual. I handed my phone over to my friend, nearly dropping it in the transfer.
“You're shaking,” she noticed.
“This is stressing me. I can't believe I'm showing my guy-crush to you.”
“Why? You let me meet Ben.”
“After a month of dating him! And Conner... isn't Ben.”
“Christ, he sure isn't,” she gasped, eyes widening at my phone. “If you hadn't met him in person, I would have thought he was a catfish. These could easily be fake photos! My goodness, is he a model?”
I was red from the neck up. “No, I don't think so, anyway.”
“You don't think so? Maya, you know what he does for a living, right? Tell me you do.”
Instead of answering, I upended my empty glass and sucked at the last droplets.
“Maya!” she hissed. “Come on! Barely knowing someone is one thing, but you told me you're living with him, too! How could you do that without asking about his job?”
“I did ask him. Eventually. I guess I didn't think it mattered, I was just having fun with him. I wasn't planning anything serious.”
“Well, is he poor?”
“If he was I wouldn't care.”
“What kind of car does he drive?”
“A yellow Mustang.”
“His place is nice?”
“Pretty nice, sure.”
“And you never see him go anywhere, no business calls, nothing?”
“No, but he said he used to work...”
“Then he's rich.”
My face was uncomfortably hot. The waiter appeared with my new beer, and I took it gratefully. “He's not poor and he isn't rich.”
“God you don't knooooow,” she groaned, covering her eyes. Just then my phone buzzed against her forehead, making her startle. “Ah! Someone's calling you.”
I reached my hand out. “Who?”
She eyed the screen and didn't hand me my phone. Her lips stretched into a grimace. “Um, Ben?”
“Why the hell is he calling me?”
“Should I hang up on him?”
“No, give me.” She put the phone into my grasping fingers. Sitting back, I frowned hard at Ben's number as it blinked. Conner's face swam through my mind; I heard him telling me he was the jealous type. I didn't want to hurt him, even accidentally, by talking to my ex. “I'm not answering. I don't want to, and I don't need to.”
“Good for you.”
“Did I tell you my mom tried to set me up with him again?”
“Noooo,” she gawked.
“Yeah.” I squeezed the phone until my hand hurt. “She suggested I give him a second chance. Gross, right?”
“Super gross.”
It was a sign of our friendship that she took my side automatically, sympathizing with me. It made me feel extra guilty about hiding Conner from her. “Aubrey, I really am sorry I didn't mention Conner to you. Or the stuff with my mom.” I looked at the ring on my finger. “Maybe I'm in over my head. Juggling all these lies is exhausting. There's not going to be a wedding, but if there was, I would have asked you to be my maid of honor. I'm a terrible friend.”
Her hip shoved against me—she'd jumped out of her seat and into mine. “Hey!” she shouted, hugging me tight.
“Aubrey, you're smothering me!”
“I know. It's my way of showing I have a girl-crush on you, Maya.” She wrapped me up until I winced through my surprised laughter. “I'm sorry for being so pissy. I was shocked about the wedding invitation, but only because I care about you. You're my best friend, Maya. And that means I stick by you—figuratively and literally.”
My arms wound around her, hugging her back. “Aubrey...”
“That also means,” she went on, putting her chin on my scalp, “Seeing through your tough facade. You really dig this guy. It's crazy obvious, and maybe crazy crazy, but so what? Love is like that.”
“I'm not in love,” I argued, eyes bulging.
“Mn, I think you are.” She looked at me with a knowing smirk. “And if your fake wedding becomes real, I happily accept the crown of maid of honor, thanks muchly.”
“You're seriously breaking my ribs.”
Giggling, she jumped off of me and sat back in her seat. I watched her take a long slurp from her vanilla shake, her puckered lips frozen in a coy smile. I wasn't sure if she was right, about the love thing, but the fact she supported me made me feel light enough to not be flattened by the idea.
Could I really be in love with Conner?
My phone buzzed again. It was a text from Ben.
Ben: Seriously? Marriage?
My stomach flip-flopped. How did he... “Oh no,” I gasped. Aubrey blinked at me. “That wedding invitation went to all of my contacts.”
“All of them?” she asked warily. “Then that means—”
“Yes,” I said, dropping my forehead to the table.
I'd invited my ex to my wedding.
Chapter 15
Game Night
THERE WERE ENOUGH FLOWERS on my desk to host an Easter parade. Each of them had some variety of card congratulating me on my upcoming wedding. Ever since the emails had gone out last week, the gifts kept pouring in.
My employees had all made a point to wish me well in person. I'd shaken their hands while enduring their kind, gushing words, hoping I'd spontaneously melt into the floor.
Shifting a huge bouquet of white roses away from my computer so I could set down my coffee, I spotted the card attached to the blue ribbon.
To your happy future filled with lots of love!
From: The Gibraldi Group.
P.S. You really are amazing at what you do!
That last bit was referencing the changes I'd had them make to their event fliers. The new ones were full of legit singers and songwriters, and one of the girls—Cynthia Southerbee—had shared it to her social media, prompting a ton of organic buzz for the upcoming festival.
Aubrey had pointed out the singer's Instagram had over a million followers. That prompted me to check out her SongCloud account. She was very, very good. I'd bought some of her music on impulse and didn't regret it.
I was definitely going to the event so I could show the Gibraldi gro
up I was supportive of them—and to meet Cynthia in person. I'm old school, I still like getting a CD signed when I can.
But... right now, I couldn't think about any of that. I was extremely embarrassed about all the flowers collecting on my desk for my employees to see. Quick as I could, I called for the building janitor to move everything into the warehouse.
“Hey!” Aubrey said as she sidled up to me. “Are you getting rid of all the flowers?”
“I can't work with them piled everywhere. It's distracting.”
“Should I send the rest directly to the warehouse?”
“Sorry, you mean there's more coming?” I balked.
She shrugged, the two of us watching the janitor load up a cart with all the floral gift baskets and roll it towards the elevator. “You did invite a ton of people.”
I slapped my forehead onto my newly cleared off desk and groaned.
“You need something to cheer you up,” she noted. “Lucky you, I've got the perfect idea. Game night!”
I lifted my head so I could peer at her with one eye. “I'm listening.”
“I want to get some quality time with you.” She cocked her hip playfully. “Aaaaaand I want to see what Mister Yellow Mustang is all about.”
“Don't let his car define him.”
“Fine. Mister No Job.”
“Call him Conner.”
“Right, right. Let's see if Mister Conner Whynn deserves his name.”
My face fell. “Touche.”
“Just drag his cute butt to Max's Game Center after work tonight. I'll invite some friends, we'll play laser tag and drink beer. It'll be great.”
I was warily optimistic. Conner did need to meet Aubrey eventually, why not sooner than later? When she left, I texted a message to him.
Me: Are you good at laser tag?
Conner: Are you asking in a life or death sense, or is this an invite to meet your friends?
Me: Aubrey wants to hang out at Max's Game Center tonight. There'll be greasy pizza and cheap beer.
Conner: I love both of those.
Me: I promise it'll be fun.