The Pact

by Max Monroe

  Flynn: I’ll do you one better.

  Me: Oh, really? I’m all ears.

  Flynn: I’m leaving my office right now. A good girl who wants to get fucked can meet me at home in about 20 minutes.

  I look at his text and across the room to where Tara is now bitching at one of the burly movers tasked with delivering and setting up the staging furniture for this loft.

  I shouldn’t…should I?

  Back to Tara, I note the way her face scrunches up with disdain when the man doesn’t give her an answer she likes.

  Only seven more days, my mind whispers. Seven more days until the interview and your current cozy bubble of blissful sex and happy days with Flynn will come to an end.

  And just like that, I’m decided.

  “Tara, I have to run to the office really quick,” I announce in a rush, already starting the process of heading toward the door to grab my purse.

  “What?” she questions back and looks at me like I just told her I’m going to set this loft on fire for the fun of it. “Why?”

  Because I need to go have sex with my husband before he’s not my husband anymore.

  “Uh…” I pause and search for a reason, any-fucking-reason. “Uh…Damien just texted, and he needs me to send him a few files from an LA property I helped stage. It’s urgent.”

  Her narrowed eyes call my bluff, but I ignore her.

  Instead, I offer a wave over my shoulder and head out the door before she can ask me anything else.

  Of course, the instant the loft door shuts behind me and I step on to the elevator, I pull my phone out of my purse and fire off a text.

  Me: If anyone asks, you needed me to send you very important papers about an LA property today.

  Damien: And why would I need that?

  Me: Because I wanted to play hooky, and I needed an excuse that didn’t end in Tara gouging my eyes out with her nails.

  Damien: I hope this hooky at least involves something awesome and not going to the fucking dentist.

  Me: That was one time! And there’s nothing wrong with liking clean teeth.

  Damien: Daisy.

  Me: Relax. This hooky involves…sexy kind of things.

  Damien: You mean, you’re sneaking out of work to go home and fuck your hot husband?

  Me: Something like that.

  Damien: Since I’m technically your boss, I think I’m supposed to tell you I’ll let it slide this time, but don’t make a habit of it.

  Damien: But as your friend, I’m saying… I got your back, doll.

  Don’t make a habit of it? Not to worry, Dame. This habit of mine has a seven-day expiration.

  Tuesday, May 28th

  Daisy

  At half past five, I step out of the entrance doors of EllisGrey’s New York office in Manhattan and stop just before I get past the outside awning. Rain falls from the sky in harsh, unrelenting waves, and I glance down at my favorite white silk blouse and sigh.

  This is the opposite of what I want to be wearing right now.

  It’s times like these that I wish I were the type of person who planned ahead. The kind of organized person who checks the weather and brings umbrellas and raincoats and slicker boots when there’s a prediction for rain.

  But I’ve never been that person. Hell, I don’t even own an umbrella.

  I check the time on my phone and realize I have exactly thirty minutes to get across town to the bridal shop where my bridesmaid dress for Sophie’s wedding is waiting for pickup.

  Also not ideal for this kind of torrential rain situation.

  I start to weigh out the taxi versus subway pros and cons, both of which seem to end in me giving my best impression of a spring break wet T-shirt contest, but the sound of my phone ringing from my purse stops me before I can decide which is the lesser of two evils.

  Incoming Call Flynn flashes on the screen, and I answer it by the second ring.

  “Hey, you.”

  “Where are you?” he asks, and I look up at the protective canvas barrier above me.

  “Welp. I’m standing underneath the awning outside my building and trying to decide how to avoid the rain while I run across town to get my bridesmaid dress. You don’t happen to have access to a teleportation device, do you?”

  He chuckles. “What about an umbrella?”

  “Well, that would certainly help, but how are you going to get it to me?”

  “By car.”

  “So…you’re going to send a car to drop an umbrella off to me?” I question on a snort. “That sounds like a waste of resources.”

  “Not if I’m driving the car.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Huh?”

  “I’m half a block away,” he expands.

  “For real?” I question. “So, you can drive me to the shop to get my dress?”

  “There’s no need. I already picked it up for you after I got my suit.”

  The surprising, downright fan-fucking-tastic news makes me fist-pump the air. “Oh my goodness, Flynn! You’re my hero!” I exclaim so loud it startles the man working security at the entrance doors.

  “Stay put. I’ll be there in a minute,” he says just as I look toward the street to see him pulling his Range Rover to a stop in front of the building. There’s a smile in his voice—an easiness he’s acquired when it comes to dealing with me that steals my breath unexpectedly.

  He’s parked illegally and New York traffic is showing its disdain through obnoxious honks and middle fingers, but Flynn is undeterred. Out of the driver’s side door, he heads my way with an actual umbrella in his hand. Rain soaks his dark hair and his white T-shirt as he jogs toward me.

  Holy hell. An actual hero. My heart feels as if it wants to burst out of my rib cage, and the burning, stinging pain in my jaw gets more and more intense. Tears, it seems, are trying their damnedest to make a showing right now, but there’s no way I’m letting some sappy emotion about all of this coming to an end ruin the moment for me.

  “Hey, babe,” he says with what just might be my favorite Flynn smile. It’s a signature smile of his where just one corner of his lips quirks up, but it always reaches his eyes in a way that makes the blue look bright like a clear, summer sky.

  “Hi, handsome.” I smile up at him. “Was this a coincidental pickup or intentional?”

  “I didn’t want you to have to deal with the rain.” He leans forward to press a soft kiss to my lips, and then he pops open the umbrella and leads me to the Range Rover with it safely hovering over me.

  My heart lurches. Talk about some kind of romantic.

  Almost like what a real-life, married husband would do for his wife.

  Once I’m buckled inside the car and Flynn is pulling away from the building, I glance over my shoulder and spot his suit and my bridesmaid dress for Jude and Sophie’s wedding hanging off one of the hooks by the back passenger doors.

  Only three more days until their big day. And three more days until pickups from my knight in shining armor go up in a fantastic ball of immigration interview smoke.

  Where in the hell did the time go?

  Thursday, May 30th

  Daisy

  I adjust the nonexistent wrinkles on my dress and follow Flynn’s lead across the sidewalk and toward the entrance doors of The Penrose.

  “You ready to deal with my rowdy family?” Flynn asks with a little grin. “Because, you know, if you want to skip the madness and head back to our apartment for a quiet night in with my cock inside you, I doubt anyone will notice.”

  I snort. “We’re both in the wedding, Flynn. I’m pretty sure they’ll notice if they’re short a groomsman and bridesmaid at the rehearsal dinner.”

  He just shrugs. “Hey, later tonight, when my uncle Brad is trying to get you to dance with him, just remember this conversation.”

  I playfully slap a hand to his chest, and he opens the door to usher us inside.

  I don’t know how it happened, but one minute, I felt like I was arriving in New York, and now, I’m stepp
ing inside the Upper East Side gastropub that is hosting Jude and Sophie’s rehearsal dinner.

  And tomorrow, you’ll be interviewed by USCIS.

  I swallow hard against the anxiety that wants to move into my throat. Now is not the time to focus on that. Instantly, I force myself to think about the happy couple we’re celebrating tonight and plaster a smile on my face as I follow Flynn’s lead through the venue.

  The Penrose is packed to the brim with everyone who loves and adores Jude and Sophie. The aesthetic touches my designer heart, fitting perfectly in the middle of vintage and contemporary. It’s cozy, with wood and brick elements throughout, but the light fixtures add this cool, modern vibe.

  If anything, this place is authentic and fun and just suits them perfectly.

  Flynn takes my hand and guides me toward our assigned table, but on the way, we’re stopped by several familiar faces for hugs and greetings. His mom, Aunt Paula and Uncle Brad, Ty and some woman with big boobs and even bigger jade-colored eyes named Mindy, every step we take, it feels as if another person pops up to say hello.

  And the instant Lexi sees us, she sprints across the hardwood floor and wraps both of her little arms around us. “Hi, Uncle Flynn and Aunt Daisy!”

  Aunt Daisy. Gah. That pulls right at the heartstrings.

  “Hey, Lexi Lou.” Flynn smiles and releases my hand to lift Lexi up and into his arms. “Whoa, did you grow?”

  She rolls her eyes and giggles. “Of course, I grew, Uncle Flynn. That’s part of childhood development.”

  Her reaction makes me smile, but it also spurs an ache to form inside my chest. I rub at the annoying discomfort and try to focus on the big night—Jude and Sophie’s rehearsal dinner. Tomorrow, the happy bride and groom will be happy wife and husband.

  And tomorrow, you could find out that you and Flynn no longer need to keep up the marriage façade.

  “Aunt Daisy?”

  I blink out of my thoughts and find Lexi back on her feet, staring up at me. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

  “My Mathletes competition final is in two weeks.”

  “It is?” I ask, trying like hell to act as excited as I should be. “That sounds like a really big deal, Lexi.”

  “It’s the state championship. Do you want to come?”

  I nod and try to ignore the ball of emotion that has found its way into my throat. “Of course I want to come. I wouldn’t want to miss that for anything.”

  Yeah, but you can’t actually say you’ll be there. Because you’ll probably be back in LA by then.

  Flynn smiles over at me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. He reaches out and rubs the top of Lex’s hair affectionately. “Consider us both there, Lexi Lou.”

  “I’ll let my mom know to save two more seats,” she says. “So, fifteen seats total so far. And if Uncle Ty brings one of his girls, that’ll be sixteen seats.”

  One of his girls? I’d probably laugh if I didn’t feel like the room was closing in on me.

  “Daisy!” Winnie calls from the other side of the room. “Get over here, sis! We’re having a bridesmaids’ powwow in the other room.” When Ty starts to head that way, she quickly points an index finger in his direction. “No boys allowed!”

  He puts a hand to his chest and feigns discomfort. “You wound me, sis.”

  “I swear to everything, Ty, if you try to mess with any of the bridesmaids tonight or tomorrow, I’ll wound you for real.”

  He just grins like the devil. “And what if the single bridesmaids can’t resist me?”

  “Oh, they will,” Winnie adds. “Because I’ve already told them you have an incurable venereal disease.”

  “Jesus, Win.”

  She cackles and then meets my eyes again. “C’mon, Dais!”

  “Looks like you’re being summoned. Have fun, babe,” Flynn whispers into my ear and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “See you in a bit.”

  The kiss is simple, chaste even, but it does nothing to help my emotions. Every cell inside my body loves feeling a sweet gesture like that from Flynn, but it’s all just part of the game we’ve been playing…right?

  A game that will soon be over.

  The pact we made will be complete.

  And like Flynn said from the beginning, no strings will be attached.

  The lie we’ve been living will no longer be needed. Soon, everyone will know the truth. Winnie and Sophie and Flynn’s mom and brothers, Uncle Brad and Aunt Paula, adorable Lexi, everyone will know I’m a fraud.

  Everyone who’s become the family you always wished you’d had.

  Tears threaten to fill my eyes, but I blink them away. I refuse to do anything that will ruin Jude and Sophie’s big night.

  You can’t change the reality of the situation. All you can do is put on a happy face and get through the night without falling to pieces.

  Yeah. I can’t change any of it. All I can do is make the best of it.

  And you definitely can’t change the fact that you’ve fallen in love with your fake husband.

  Frank Sinatra serenades the room, and Flynn pulls me tight against his chest. We float across the dance floor in between the other couples in attendance at Jude and Sophie’s rehearsal dinner.

  “This is just a taste of what’s to come tomorrow night!” Uncle Brad announces and proceeds to dip Paula and plant a smacking kiss to her lips.

  Paula giggles. Ty cheers them on. And Flynn just shakes his head on a low chuckle that makes his chest vibrate against mine.

  All in all, it’s been a pretty good night.

  Dinner was delicious. Jude and Sophie appear so damn happy it makes my heart twist against my ribs. And I managed to pull myself together enough to help celebrate the soon-to-be husband and wife.

  Flynn presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and I have to shut my eyes for a brief moment to not let it affect me. But hell, it’s affecting me.

  Every innocent touch, kiss, caress from him feels so right that it’s wrong.

  Wrong because he’s not my real husband. He’s not the type of guy who does relationships. He made that fact clear from the get-go. Flynn is just a kind, genuine man who helped me in my time of need. And it’s highly likely that, as of tomorrow, my time of need will be a thing of the past.

  “You know what I think?” Winnie’s voice grabs my attention, and I glance to my right to find her and her husband Wes slow dancing together. “I think the two of you should plan a wedding.”

  Flynn smirks. “Sorry to break it to you again, Win, but we already did that.”

  “Yeah, I’m aware. But I’d like you to plan a wedding that I can actually attend.”

  Wes smirks. “Like you should talk, baby. We got married on a beach in the Bahamas. And only you, me, and Lexi were in attendance.”

  “Shut up, Wes!” Winnie squeals and smacks a hand over his mouth. He just laughs and playfully bites at her fingers in a way that makes her giggle and yank her hand away from his face.

  Flynn is amused by the whole scene. I know this because a genuine smile kisses his perfect mouth. But me, on the other hand? Well, I’m overwhelmed. Confused. And my heart is starting to take up a breath-stealing rhythm inside my chest.

  I’m a fraud. A liar. A phony. A fake.

  And even though I never anticipated the aftermath of Flynn’s and my marriage, I’m starting to comprehend just how many people our web of lies has ensnared.

  Not to mention, your heart.

  Guilt pitches a tent inside my stomach, and I have to remove myself from the dance floor, away from Flynn and his family, and just…away from everyone I feel like I’m going to disappoint far too soon.

  I step back and out of Flynn’s arms, and he looks down at me with a quirk of his brow.

  “I…uh… I think I need to…uh…” I pause, searching for a reasonable reason to leave. Sure, most of the guests have already left, but I doubt me springing out of the restaurant like my ass is on fire is going to occur unnoticed.

  “I’m tired,” I explain lamely. “I
think I’m ready to call it a night.”

  “Okay, babe.” Flynn doesn’t ask any questions. He just…places a gentle hand to my back and guides us off the dance floor and toward our table where I left my purse.

  But this isn’t what I want him to do at all. The more time I spend with him, the harder this whole thing is getting. The more he treats me like a fucking princess, the more I realize I’m far past the point of having just some feelings for him.

  I have all the feelings for him.

  I just need space. Away from him. Away from his family. Away from my lies.

  Far away from tomorrow’s fate…and the inevitability of a broken heart.

  Flynn

  “You guys heading out?” Rem asks, giving me a slap on the shoulder and a shake of my hand.

  “Yeah, man.” I look right beside me to where Daisy should be, anticipating her smile and ramble, but she’s nowhere to be found. I grace Rem with a return slap on the shoulder and glance around the room for my favorite bouncy head of curls. It’s only when I look all the way across the restaurant, at the double doors that lead out the front, that I spot that very hair making an abrupt departure.

  “Everything okay?” Rem asks, observing me so closely that I can feel it without even having to look.

  Honestly, I don’t know. One minute, Daisy was with me, and in the span of two minutes when I was grabbing money out of my wallet to tip the waitstaff, she was gone.

  Maybe she’s sick?

  That possibility doesn’t sit well with me, and I don’t offer Rem any explanation. Instead, I excuse myself with an “I’ll see you tomorrow” and head for the exit. I don’t even bother saying goodbye to Jude or Sophie when I pass them at the bar, despite their being the guests of honor, and I don’t seek out anyone else from my family to let them know we’re leaving.

  I’ll see them at the wedding tomorrow anyway, and after forty-one years of silent goodbyes, there’s no need to start announcing my departure now.

  The instant I step outside, I’m hit with a cool night breeze and the vision of Daisy hauling ass in the opposite direction of our apartment.

  What the hell is going on?