Counterfeit Kisses

by Cora York

  “Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with an appearance.” She eyed me and grinned. “You look like shit.”

  “You’re so sweet.” I nodded toward her yoga pants ensemble. “The soccer mom look suits you. You should wear yoga pants more often.”

  Peals of rasping laughter spilled from her. “You need to work on your insults, hun.”

  I scooped up a wine glass, and the open bottle of Merlot warming by the fire then poured myself a generous helping.

  “That’s my girl.” Barb raised her glass in salute. “Drown your sorrows with alcohol. Wine makes everything so much better, don’t you think?”

  I took a large gulp, and my body relaxed as soon as the honeyed liquid hit my taste buds. “I needed that.”

  “Sit.” Barb patted the seat of the chair opposite her.

  “I shouldn’t.” But I plopped down anyway, which made the wine slosh over the rim of my glass and drip onto my jeans. “I don’t have time. I have to read my texts, my emails. Have you seen my phone?”

  “Stop fidgeting. You’re wasting wine.” Barb reached out and steadied my hand. “I have your phone. No calls or texts from lover boy if that’s what you wanted to know.”

  I crossed my legs and arms. “You’ve been reading my messages?”

  “Eh. When you were off having a pity party for one, someone had to make sure the sky didn’t fall.”

  “I’m not fired?” I didn’t dare breathe.

  “No.” Barb paused for a sip of wine. “Not yet.”

  Masking my relief with what I hoped was an indifferent expression, I held out an upturned hand. “Phone.”

  “On the mantel. You’re welcome, by the way.”

  I reached for my phone, desperate to see for myself if Keegan had gotten in touch. I swiped through all my messages and emails. He hadn’t. And neither had Shane, which confirmed they were working together. Keegan must have told Shane the game was up, but I still wasn’t sure what that game was. As long as I lived, I never wanted to see either of them again.

  “Told you so,” Barb said in a singsong voice.

  If she hadn’t been the gatekeeper to Violet, I would’ve told her where to shove it.

  “Go on, say it,” Barb said.

  “Say what?”

  “Shut up, Barb. Mind your own business, Barb.”

  I thumbed through some spam emails before glancing up. “You’re a mind reader now?”

  She churned the wine around her lipstick-stained glass. “I’m everything and anything I need to be. A bit like you.”

  I didn’t take the bait and ignored Barb’s comparison. “Brendan said the airport’ll reopen tomorrow. Have you spoken to Violet? When’s her flight arriving?”

  “The morning of the wedding.”

  “You’re kidding? How are we supposed to have everything ready if the bride doesn’t arrive until a few hours before she’s due to walk down the aisle?” I stood, and power lapped around the kitchen. “What about Archer, when does he get here?”

  “They’re arriving together.”

  “Okay. I’ll do what I can to make sure everything goes to plan.”

  “We still need to talk about what happened today.” Barb motioned toward my vacated seat.

  I stopped walking. “Can’t it wait until after the wedding?”

  “No. Now sit and finish your wine.” Barb inclined her head and gave a queenly wave. “Explain.”

  I grasped the stem of my glass with both hands. Taking a generous and fortifying sip, I sank into the chair and gazed into the snapping flames. “I told you everything this morning. There’s nothing else to explain. I lied to save my ass. Keegan found out. He lied to me about knowing my ex. They were working together, which is worse than anything I did.”

  “Why’d you come clean?” Barb asked. “A few more days and you and lover boy would’ve been home free. No one else had a clue. As long as the job got done, I didn’t care. And as much as you think I’m a heartless bitch, which I can be, I get that people do things to claw their way up.”

  “Ulcer forming guilt, I guess. I dunno. I thought telling the truth would show Keegan I wasn’t a two-faced liar.”

  Barb barked out a laugh. “That sure backfired, huh?”

  “You think?” I took another long sip of wine. “So why haven’t you fired me and told Violet about my fantastical love story?”

  “I like you. So what? You told a lie. Who hasn’t? And, hello, Romeo deserves those heels of yours lodged in his junk. He’s as much to blame for this three-ringed circus as you are.”

  “Maybe. I don’t care enough to care about his part in all of this.”

  Barb tilted her head. “Denial is a river in Egypt, ever heard of it?”

  “I’m not in denial.”

  “Bullshit.”

  For a brief second, I closed my eyes. “I’m not. It’s the truth.”

  Barb dismissed me with a flick of her fingers. “Whatever.”

  I stood and walked to the sink, where I poured the remnants of my glass down the drain. “Think I’ll call it a night. Lots to do tomorrow.”

  “You do that. Brendan and I have some things to… discuss.” There was a twinkle in Barb’s eye and dirty laughter in her voice.

  “I’m sure you do.” I set my glass on the draining board and left the kitchen.

  ****

  Since sleep refused to come, I sat in bed browsing through pictures and articles about Keegan on my laptop. For a while, I’d foolishly believed we could make it as a couple. Have a real relationship once Violet’s wedding was over. Dumb. In the long run, a relationship created from lies would never have worked. We wouldn’t have stood a chance.

  When I’d needed his support, he’d turned on me—attacked my character—then walked away. To him, I was a business deal and nothing more.

  The entire time he’d been plotting against me. Every word and every kiss calculated and planned. How could I have trusted him? Been so stupid, so blind? Once again, I’d let myself get swept away on a wave of romance and fairytales.

  A tear slid down my cheek, and I used the edge of the comforter to wipe it away. The way Shane had broken my heart was nothing compared to what Keegan had done. His betrayal made my heart feel as if it were physically broken. As if his words had pummeled it to pieces. Every time I thought about him, which was every second, the broken piece splintered into slivers of pain. How could I have fallen so hard for him? Ignored all the warning signs? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. My coming clean was supposed to show him I wasn’t like his ex. Supposed to show him how much I valued what we had.

  “Tessa,” Barb yelled, hammering on the bedroom door, “we have to talk. Right now.”

  I glimpsed at the time—5 a.m. Placing my laptop on the bed, I stumbled toward the door, opening it a crack to block the hallway light from blinding me.

  “Can’t it wait?” I asked, my voice scratchy from lack of sleep.

  “No.” A lit cigarette dangled from Barb’s lips, the smoke curling upward. Bruised shadows beneath her eyes made her look like she’d spent the night in a boxing ring. “You’re lucky I didn’t wake you earlier. But after yesterday’s drama, I assumed you needed sleep.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping. What’s so urgent?”

  Barb thrust the bedroom door open, pushing me out of the way. “The wedding’s off.”

  When I could string together coherent words, they came out pinched and on the verge of hysteria. “Off? Why?”

  “Violet thinks the snow and all the problems getting here are a sign from a greater power that she shouldn’t marry Archer. I should have known she’d pull this kinda crap. Can you believe this?”

  “No.” An iced-over snowball of realization hit my stomach, and I slid down the doorjamb to the floor.

  “I’m too old for this.” Barb inhaled deeply, removed the cigarette from her lips, and clamped it between her fingers. She closed her hands around my biceps and hauled me up from the floor, her steely eyes glinted dangerously. “I alr
eady have one deranged woman on my hands, and I don’t need another.”

  Panic bubbled in my throat, but I swallowed hard, not allowing it to take control. Barb eased her grip, and between half-laughing and sobbing, I managed to pull in enough air to speak. “W-what about the guests, the food?” My voice rose several octaves. “The other suppliers are going to lose a fortune.”

  “Stop it.” Barb snapped, her smoker’s rasp rustier than ever. “Everyone’s getting paid. No one’s lost anything. As for the guests, Violet already told most of them before I had a chance to. Thank God it was only fifty people. Can you imagine if it’d been a thousand? We got off easy if you ask me.”

  “Easy?” I dragged my hands through my knotted hair. “You might be used to having your time wasted by a spoiled brat with no respect for anyone or anything. I’m not. Everyone might get paid, but what about the exposure and future business this wedding would’ve brought? I’ve been counting on it.”

  “Get over yourself.” Barb’s face twisted. “While you were moping about your lost love, I sent out a press release that explains everything. When you’re ready to pull on your big girl panties and act professionally, go check your email.”

  Barb walked out in a curl of smoke, leaving me feeling like I was the spoiled brat. I scurried to the bed and checked my emails, searching for Barb’s press release.

  For immediate release:

  Global movie star Violet Hale would like to put rest to the rumors that she and Archer Parks are to marry on Christmas Eve. While a wedding was due to take place at the picturesque Oak Castle in County Donegal, Violet and Archer have parted ways. Although they are no longer in a relationship, they remain close friends and ask you to respect their privacy during this difficult time. Violet would like to thank Tessa Maken from Maken Memories and Keegan Devlin from Devlin Events for all of their efforts in planning what would surely have been a fairytale day.

  Had Barb been in the room, I would’ve kissed her feet. My business was safe, and since she’d mentioned the castle, Brendan wouldn’t have to worry either. A vortex of relief and regret spiraled inside of me. If I’d kept my mouth shut, then Keegan would be here celebrating with me. But that wouldn’t take away his involvement with Shane. Nothing would.

  After dressing, I packed up my belongings and fired off emails canceling all suppliers. The roads were still too icy to drive, so I planned to stay at the castle and work until noon. Perhaps when I got back to my flat, I’d unpack my boxes and attempt to make my apartment some sort of home.

  On my way to find Brendan to say goodbye, I saw several people I didn’t know scurrying around the foyer.

  Brendan hurried toward me, rosy excitement glowing on his face.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “The media want to see where the wedding was going to take place. The phone’s been blowing up. Barb says I should allow one paparazzo in, and she’ll take care of selling the photo rights worldwide. By the way, there’s still going to be a wedding tomorrow.”

  “Did Violet change her mind?” Hope swirled within me, but I willed myself not to get flustered. “I swear I don’t think I have the stamina to deal with a high-profile wedding again. We’ll have to pull the press release, but I’m sure Barb is on that. I’ll call Tyrone. Tell him to bring the food, and I—”

  “Slow down, woman, will you?”

  Confused, I shook my head. “I can’t slow down. The guests. I have to make sure the rest of the rooms are ready, and you need to make sure the staff we’d hired can come in, and—”

  “Tessa, sweetheart.” He dug his hands into his pockets, a sheepish expression on his face. “I’m getting married.”

  “You?”

  “Aye.” He grinned. “Barb and me.”

  I dropped down onto one of the gilded gold chairs hired for the reception. “B-but you don’t have a wedding license, guests, or clothes.”

  “Sure, don’t we have Ireland’s best wedding planner here? We have every faith that you’ll do a grand job. As for the license, we’re going to have a proper ceremony in the spring. If you like, consider this a ceremony of intent.”

  “I… wow… great… I… wow.”

  Brendan sat beside me. “Barb and me, well, we’re both closer to sixty than we are fifty. We’re on our own, and we’ve both been through the mill, but this is our chance for a new beginning. I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone I’d just met.”

  Me either. My heart reached out for Keegan. I wanted him by my side. Wanted to tell him I was sorry. Ask if he wanted to work things out. But even after all that, I didn’t know if I could forgive him for Shane.

  I wasn’t aware of the tears streaming down my cheeks until Brendan offered me a crumpled tissue.

  “Don’t cry, pet.” He gave my shoulder a quick, awkward pat. “I’ll never understand women and their tears over weddings.”

  I sniffed, gulped, and dabbed my face. “I’m ecstatic for you. Truly. But what about this place? Barb doesn’t seem like the kind of woman who’d give up her career and move into a drafty castle in the Donegal Highlands.”

  “She is, and she did.” He puffed out with pride, and I half expected him to beat his chest.

  “No way.”

  “She’s giving her resignation today, and once that’s accepted, she’s sending an email to her clients. Sometimes you have to follow your heart.”

  “When did you propose?”

  “After Barb went to see you.”

  I took a deep, centering breath. If I couldn’t make myself happy, I’d do all I could to make sure Brendan and Barb were. “Well, what are you waiting for, Mr. McCabe? We have a wedding to plan.”

  “One more thing; Barb and I were wondering if you’d like to run your business from here. It makes sense. We could fix one of the cottages up. You could move in. It’d be great to have an in-house wedding planner. You don’t have to move in if you don’t want, but I know you don’t live in the best area. What do you think?”

  I lifted my head and stared at him as if he’d told me I’d won the lottery. Living and working at the castle would mean I could stop worrying about someone battering down my door in the middle of the night. I could rebuild my business, my reputation and pay off my debts. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

  Brendan wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into a hug. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d never have found the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. It’s the least I, we, can do. What do you say?”

  Still stunned, I took a few minutes to reply. “Yes. Of course. Thank you.”

  The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of plans, paparazzi, and phone calls. Tyrone, who’d read the press release, was thrilled his food wouldn’t go to waste. The editor of Celtic Bride magazine got wind of the story and asked to interview Barb. They would spin it so it sounded as if Violet had given up her dream day for her beloved friend, and thanks to Barb’s connections, an up and coming Irish designer had altered a couture creation especially for her.

  The dress was exquisite—a red velvet sweetheart bodice, with a raw silk cream skirt embellished with handmade fabric roses. Barb’s raven hair and alabaster skin would make her look like a fairytale queen, and after the wedding, she would be the queen of her own castle.

  Everyone would live happily ever after… except me.

  By late evening, the castle looked as if it belonged in a Disney movie. Pine trees and fake snow transformed the grand hall into a winter wonderland, and round tables draped in ice-blue tablecloths surrounded a temporary dance floor.

  I was busy smoothing the wrinkles from a tablecloth when Barb skipped in like Dorothy on her way down the yellow brick road with Max, her very own Toto, tucked under her arm.

  Not wanting to dampen Barb’s enthusiasm, I hid my yawn with the back of my hand.

  “Feel like a glass of bubbly?” Barb asked.

  “If I even have a sip of alcohol, I’ll fall asleep right now standing up. I still have too
much to do.”

  “Who’d have thought I’d marry less than a week after I met my husband-to-be?” Barb squealed and leaped around like a teenager at her first concert.

  “No one. You don’t strike me as the impulsive type.”

  “I’m not. I’m a thinker, a planner, but my Spidey sense says he’s the one. Plus, it doesn’t hurt he has a stocked wine cellar more than a mile long.”

  “Wow, that long?” I laughed.

  “It stretches beyond the walls. Some kind of hiding place for the lords and ladies back in the day.”

  I looked at Barb, truly looked at her. Happiness radiated from her face. She even had a hint of color in her usually pasty cheeks. Love, I guessed, had a way of doing that. I sighed and hoped I’d get through tomorrow without making a fool of myself by crying the entire day. Weddings always made me emotional, but tomorrow would be worse because of what I almost had with Keegan.

  Barb placed her hands on my shoulders. “Can I ask you a favor?”

  I blinked and focused my gaze. “Sure.”

  “I need a maid of honor and someone to walk me down the aisle. Want the job?”

  “But I don’t have a dress.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I already got one for you. And you’ll die when you see the shoes.”

  The tears I’d been holding back flowed freely, blurring the room. “I’d be honored.”

  “Stop the waterworks. I’m not going to cry the night before my wedding.” She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Come on. Let’s find my fiancé, open a bottle of champagne, and then party like rock stars, or as the Irish say, have a Hooley. We can practice our drinking skills for tomorrow. It’s not called a rehearsal for nothing. You can sleep when you’re dead. Am I right?”

  Barb was right. Everyone had busted their butts to get the castle ready. Why shouldn’t we all enjoy a night of some dancing, drinking, and singing? I followed Barb to the foyer.

  Bushmills and Guinness flowed from a makeshift bar, and a folk band played traditional music. My gaze searched through the crowd of contractors, caterers, and wait staff, hoping Keegan would be there. He wasn’t. I took an offered glass of champagne, sat on a stool, and got ready to have fun because when the night was over, I didn’t want to remember Keegan Devlin’s name.