by Claire Adams
“I know it’s awful, but you seemed desperate, and I wouldn’t mind giving your mom some peace of mind,” she said. I imagined myself at a fake wedding with her. She was impossibly beautiful, with real ambitions and a sensible head. And maybe it was the whiskey, but there was some sort of a spark in between us throughout dinner. For the first time in years, I actually felt interested in seeing a woman again.
“That’s a nice offer,” I said. “It would make my mom so happy, especially if it was you.” Maddie smiled. “I’ll have to think about it, though. It’s a big decision.”
She nodded and took another deep breath before opening her mouth. “But,” she said, and my heart sunk. “If you want to do this with me, I won’t do it for free.”
My hands clenched beneath the table as a fierce rage boiled inside of me. It took me several moments to force myself to remain calm, but even then, I felt a flush spread over my face and a snarl taking hold over my mouth. Was she only doing this for the money? I had no idea how to respond, or even what to feel. Of course, Maddie knew how much money I had; it was a small town, and her cousin was my best friend after all. And she knew exactly how to get info from him.
I stood abruptly, needing fresh air and distance from such an immoral gold-digger. “I’ll be in touch,” was all I could say and I left the table. I pulled out cash from my wallet and threw it in the direction of our waiter, not caring at all how rude I was.
“Keep the change,” I said and returned to my car. It would surely be more than enough for both of our meals. Maddie had gotten a free dinner out of me, but there was no way I would let the bitch get any more.
I took deep breaths in the driver's seat of my car. Her proposal had sobered me nearly instantly, but I still wanted a clear mind before starting the ignition.
I repeated her words in my head. I’ll pretend to marry you. I couldn’t believe I had even considered it for a moment. I won’t do it for free.
I told her I’d be in touch, but the only thing I had left to say to her was she could go fuck herself.
Chapter Eight
Maddie
My hangover was worse than it ever had been before as I woke in the early morning. I had fallen asleep with the thought of dinner on my mind, and it seemed even a full night’s sleep wasn’t going to erase it. After Gavin rushed out of the restaurant with such speed that even the waiter had to apologize, I spent the rest of the night at the bar in between the young men who had been staring at me throughout the dinner. They paid for the rest of my drinks, and several had asked to continue the night. I managed to sneak in my handle name and asked that they follow me before slipping out of the restaurant unnoticed.
I checked my phone. Three new followers. I groaned; there were at least eight men who had written my name down.
I almost chuckled at the thought of Gavin following my social media accounts. He was clearly out of touch with reality, but I couldn’t blame him. Was what I offered a mistake? It certainly felt dirty, and trashy. It didn’t matter; I convinced myself as I got ready for the gym. Nancie was most likely already there.
Gavin wouldn’t go for it anyways; his red face and dilated pupils had been enough of a tell. It just another bridge burned; in fact, the only thing I had to worry about now was Ron knowing I was an awful person.
But something about the dinner with Gavin made me feel awake, more alive than I’d felt in a long time. I was happy as I spoke about my dreams, and of Hollywood. I was reminded of why I pursued acting in the first place. I realized that until then, thinking about Hollywood left me in a depressed state of mind. But now, my passion almost felt rejuvenated. And somehow I felt that Gavin was to thank for it.
Not that he would ever speak to me again.
I met Nancie at the gym. We exchanged a head nod as she returned her attention to the treadmill beneath her, and I took turns on each of the strengthening spots. I had been weak growing up and hadn’t found a true workout that I appreciated until a boy from college had asked me to lift with him. I had fallen in love with it from the first moment.
Nancie left in the middle of my workout, and I returned home to find her in front of her vanity applying make-up.
“Another product shoot?” I asked. We didn’t ever bother with make-up unless it was to advertise a product. Professional shoots always preferred us to arrive with an empty face.
“My agent just got me into a last-minute ad-shoot for those new shoes we both liked,” she said. “I’ll bring a pair back for you.”
“Thanks,” I said and started on breakfast. Nancie was particular about what she ate on days with jobs, so I made her an egg-white omelet with tomato and spinach, and sprinkled a teaspoon of feta on it as I delivered it to her room. My breakfast was similar, but with a side of turkey bacon and a cup of steaming coffee.
I ate on her bed as she balanced an eyelash curler in one hand and a fork in the other.
“How was your dinner?” she asked. I had only mentioned that I had a business dinner. I was too afraid to admit what I did to anyone.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” I said and told her the truth. “He promised his dying mom that he would get married before she dies, and I offered to fake marry him in exchange for money.” I summed it up at the end, and Nancie sat down her make-up brush and turned toward me. For a moment, I expected her to chide me until I remembered who I was speaking with.
“That’s evil,” she said. “Super devious, something you’d hear on one of those reality housewives shows. I love it.”
“Really?” I asked. “You don’t think I made a mistake?”
“A mistake?” Nancie frowned. “Maddie, you need money, he needs a fake a wife. He just so happens to be the richest asshole in town, and you happen to be beautiful. I think it’s the perfect deal.”
“It might not matter anyways,” I said. “He got super pissed after the offer and ran away.”
“He just needs time to process it,” she said. “Unless he wants to break a promise to his dying mommy.”
The entire thing was so inappropriate that I just had to chuckle. “I’m such a shit person,” I said and fell back on her bed. “Karma is going to get me.”
“Karma works third shift at the stripper joint downtown,” Nancie said. “Trust me, ain't no one worrying about karma.”
I watched as Nancie finished her make-up and dressed in stylish clothes and accentuated her calves. She looked perfect, and I told her as much as she left for her job.
At least Nancie recognized the potential in my offer, but it didn’t make me feel any better. Gavin’s mother was dying, and I had monetized it. But there was so much more than just that tiny little detail, right? I could only hope that Gavin could see the potential, and maybe he really would be in touch.
I closed my eyes and drifted into a light sleep. I had dreamt of our exchange at dinner the entire night, reliving the humiliation of being left alone at a table for two. But in my nap, I only dreamt of Gavin, of his blue eyes, the gray highlights in his dark hair, his muscles and hard body. In my dream, I wondered how taut his body was, and tried touching him. But he pulled away with a nasty smirk and told me to go fuck myself.
I woke up just in time for an early lunch and wondered if that really was how Gavin felt.
I had nearly forgotten about my plans for dinner until my mom called me in the late afternoon, reminding me that I had agreed to come over. I promised her I would arrive early and spent the rest of the afternoon active on my social media accounts.
It was a never-ending cycle, the constant liking and reposting and commenting and liking. But the more you did it, the bigger the presence you had. And that was how Nancie had gotten her million followers.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I looked up Gavin Hayward on the search bar. His profile popped up almost instantly, and I clicked on it. His profile picture was an older one, nearly 10 years old, it seemed, and he looked slightly chubbier with a full head of hair and a shirt that was pulled down to show off a tattoo on his lef
t shoulder. I had completely forgotten that Gavin had tattoos covering nearly his entire body, with the only exceptions of hands, neck, and face. His shoulder tattoo was a lizard that looked as if it were perched, like a little friend always beside his ear.
He only had two other pictures on his profile. One with Ron, which most likely was because Ron had created the profile, and the other a 20-year-old Gavin in between his mother and father. It was remarkable how similar he looked to his father now. Same hard jawline, bright blue eyes between thick, dark eyelashes, and a straight nose with a slight bump on the bridge. His hair was from his mother, and smile as well.
I locked my phone and threw it on my bed. Why was I creeping on his profile anyways? He wasn’t interested in me, or my idea, and he probably wouldn’t want to ever see me again.
I glanced at my clock. I had 30 minutes before I said I would arrive at my parents, and the drive itself was 25 minutes.
I got ready in a rush and was out the door in record time. The drive thankfully had no traffic, and I was knocking on the door just as it turned six.
“I didn’t actually think you’d get here early,” mom said. “Dinner should be ready in 30 minutes.”
“I got all my work done for the day,” I said. Mom rolled her eyes, but she didn’t ask if I was looking for a real job, at least.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Dad said as he hugged me. “How’s your weekend so far?”
“Uneventful,” I said and took a seat on the couch. It was rough, with cushioned backs that were sunk low. No wonder dad always complained about back problems. “Don’t forget, if you guys want a new couch, I can get a good discount at that giant furniture warehouse downtown.”
I had starred in a commercial for them a few years ago and had received a lifetime of half-off discounts in compensation.
“This one’s still good,” dad said and joined me on the couch. “I think we’ll keep it until the legs break.”
I shifted my weight as the couch rocked beneath us.
“Doesn’t sound like it’ll be that long,” I said. “Just promise me you’ll let me know?”
“Promise,” dad said as he changed the TV channel. I couldn’t believe they were still wasting their money on cable.
We watched an episode of House Hunters as mom finished up dinner. I knew one day she was going to ask me to help, but the last thing I needed was her constant judgment as we circled the tiny kitchen together.
“Food’s ready,” she said. I helped her set the table and prep the plates. It was taco night, and we each took turns piling meat, cheese, onions, sour cream, and avocado in corn shells.
“The food smells great, honey,” dad said as we took our seats. They glanced at each other with such loving eyes that I had to turn away.
“Are you guys ever going to stop acting like teenagers with a crush?” I asked and took a bite of my taco. Pieces of crunchy shells fell onto my plate, and I used them to scoop up rice and beans.
“You’ll understand when you find the right person,” mom said.
“As if the right person exists,” I mumbled and ignored mom’s glare.
“How’s Nancie?” dad asked. He always did have a soft spot for her.
“She’s good, still deciding on California.” I mentioned Nancie’s dilemma to them over the phone. “Oh, I saw Gavin and his mom at their house a few days ago.”
“Gavin?” Mom narrowed her eyes.
“Ron’s best friend? From like, birth?” I offered. My parents both nodded.
“I haven’t seen him in forever! And his mother, Mona, right? I think the last time we spoke with her was the month after Charlie passed,” dad said. He was already on his fifth taco.
“We had brunch with them when Mona was first diagnosed with cancer,” mom said. “But I haven’t kept in touch. How are they?”
“Actually, not so well,” I said. “Mona’s cancer is terminal. She accounted that she has six months.”
They both gasped, and pushed away their half-eaten plates.
“The poor thing,” mom said. “That poor family. I couldn’t imagine. Just one tragedy after another.”
“It makes you realize what’s important.” Dad grabbed mom’s hand and shook his head sadly.
“How’s Gavin doing?” Mom asked.
“He seems strong,” I said. There was no way I was going to tell them about my offer. “I’m sure he’s devastated, but I think he’s just trying to be strong for his mom.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” mom said. “Mona and Charlie both raised an incredible kid. Charlie fell into quite a bit of money before Gavin was even born, but you would never have realized it. That kid was always so grateful for everything, and so well-behaved. He could have been a spoiled brat, but Ron was the spoiled half of their friendship.” Mom smiled. “I remember taking them both out for ice cream one time, I guess you could say I was the cool aunt, but my credit card was declined at the register. Gavin pulled out a $50 bill, paid for the three of us, tipped $20 to the poor girl working on a hot summer day, and then gave her the remaining $20 to pay for everyone else who came after us. He was only 10 years old.”
Dad chuckled. “When Ron was 10 years old he was a little Scrooge. He wouldn’t even spend money on pencil erasers. He just crossed everything out on paper.”
“Gavin really was a special kid. It’s no wonder he turned into a catch,” mom said. “Oh, poor thing. Losing both his mother and father in such tragic ways.”
I fidgeted in my seat. Their praising Gavin really wasn’t helping my conscience.
“You let him know that if he needs absolutely anything, he can come to us,” mom said.
“Although I don’t think there’s anything he needs that he couldn’t get,” dad said and finished his dinner. “His dad’s company sold for several billion, if I remember correctly.”
“You can’t get love from money,” mom said. “If he ever needs a family, you let him know he has one right here.”
I promised her I would, and we finished the rest of our dinner with a happier subject. But as I said goodbye, and promised again that I would let Gavin know, I couldn’t help but think that I had done exactly the opposite of what she wanted.
Gavin knew there was nothing from me he would ever want.
Chapter Nine
Gavin
I was on my third beer for the night by the time Ron met me at the local bar we frequented. It was still early in the afternoon, and Ron had just gotten back from a morning of fishing when I messaged him letting him know that I would be at the bar. He hadn’t wasted any time in meeting me, and soon we both were enjoying our drinks and exchanging stories of our uneventful morning. It wasn’t particularly surprising, I supposed, when the conversation turned toward my mom, and her diagnosis.
“You could have told me,” Ron said. The bartender filled my glass of whiskey and nodded in Ron’s direction. “When you first found out, you could have told me instead of waiting for a public dinner.”
“She wanted it done that way,” I said.
“I know, but I know how stress fucks you up, and I could have been there to help deal with it all,” he said. “You and I both know that Mona would have wanted you to share your burden.”
A group of college-aged women arrived and sat on the other end of the cherry oak bar. They giggled as they each glanced at me and exchanged hushed whispers with one another. I turned from them.
“You only waited like a day,” I said. “Plus, I had a lot of other shit on my mind.”
“I don’t blame you,” Ron said. His attention was slowly moving between the group of women and me. “Fuck, we both have been through this already. When is life ever going to give us a break?”
We both lost our fathers at a relatively young age, is what he meant. I knew Ron’s sympathy was honest, but it still rubbed me the wrong way.
I was already drinking far too much for a Monday afternoon, but I knew no one would question a man with a dying mother. Maybe that was the problem with this town; ev
eryone knew who I was, and that my mom was dying.
“You could tell me anything,” Ron said as I paid little attention to him and more on my glass. “We’ve been best friends since grade school; fuck, that’s over 20 years, isn’t it?” Ron chuckled as he nursed his beer. “You ever need anything, Gavin, and I got it.”
“Thanks,” I said, and meant it. I expected to hear those words from a lot of people, but it meant the most coming from Ron. Still, his voice was beginning to scratch the inside of my head, and not in a good way. I realized all I wanted was to be alone, but between mom and Ron and the rest of this goddamn town, that wasn’t ever going to happen.
“I got a call earlier from Maddie,” Ron said. “Her roommate might be moving to California soon, so she might have to move in with me.”
My fists clenched. I decided against telling Ron that his cousin was a heartless gold-digging bitch, but it still didn’t lessen the sting. I didn’t want to create any family drama, especially when I had a million other problems to deal with. Still, just hearing her name caused a headache.
“Oh?” I swallowed a gulp of my drink.
“I don’t know how I feel about it. I probably would have to stop bringing home women on the weekends,” he said. “It might be a deal breaker.”
Ron didn’t often bring women home as much as he claimed, not since his fiancée broke up with him the week before their wedding. But he definitely loved talking about it. His entire body was facing the women on the other side of the bar, and he had gotten the attention of a few of them. He told the bartender he’d pay for each of their drinks, and the women gave almost shy grins. Something told me they weren’t too shy at all
“So tell her to fuck off,” I said, my voice a little more tense than normal. Ron noticed, and he glanced at me with a frown. His skin was darker than usual after several hours in the morning sun, and his clothes had been crinkled and dampened from the lake. The women seemed to appreciate the look of a day laborer, and the bartender had returned with three of their numbers.