The knowing look Eleanor sends my way is so annoying.
I don’t leave out a single detail. The argument and him making me feel like a cheap whore for a hot minute and me trying to leave his office when he asked me to accompany him.
“That’s how he phrased it,” I explain to Eleanor, who’s pretty much finished off her salad, what with how long I’ve taken to tell my tale. “He asked me to accompany him.”
“For the entire weekend?”
“Yes. Crazy, right?” I stare at my salad, my appetite having long left me. “I’m not even hungry.”
“Too nervous about your weekend in San Francisco with your mystery man?”
“He isn’t that much of a mystery. I know exactly who he is.”
Sort of.
“Well, I don’t.” Eleanor whips out her phone. “Give me his name.”
“Jared Gaines,” I tell her, pushing the salad bowl away from me and leaning back against the seat. I feel shaky. A little on edge. I believe I’m still in shock that I told Jared I would go with him. “He’s taking me shopping Friday after work.”
“Taking you shopping?” Eleanor’s brows shoot up as she tap, tap, taps away at her phone screen. “For what?”
“Clothes. Jewels. Furs.” I laugh when she sends me a weird look at my mentioning furs. “Mostly clothes. He says I have to look a certain way to play the part.”
“Didn’t Caroline’s boyfriend do that? Took her to Chanel and bought her a bunch of stuff?” Eleanor’s focus remains on her phone as she scrolls.
“I don’t want him to take me to Chanel.” We don’t even have a Chanel store nearby. Unfortunately.
“You already got a pair of Louboutins out of this, so you’re fine.” Eleanor’s brows lift as she reads. Oh no. I hope it isn’t anything awful.
“What did you discover?”
“Well, he’s definitely a ladies’ man.” She turns the phone my way, and the screen is filled with images of Jared with a woman by his side. There’s a different woman in every single photo.
Every. Single. One.
“I already knew that,” I mutter, which I did, but to actually see the evidence is…painful. It would be even more painful to admit my feelings, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Huh.” She resumes looking at her phone, tapping away, scrolling, scrolling. “All of these photos are from a year ago.”
“Really?” Hmm. That’s strange.
“Wait, here’s one from about six months ago—oh.” Eleanor’s face falls. “It’s a photo of him and his sister at some holiday fundraiser.”
I wave my fingers at her. “Let me see it.”
She hands me her phone and my gaze first drinks in Jared, who looks gorgeous in a black suit, his expression impassive as he poses for the camera. His arm is around a tiny woman’s waist, and she has long dark hair and a giant smile curving her lips. I can see the family resemblance, in her eyes and face shape, though of course her features are feminine while his are wholly masculine. She’s short, like me, and her form-fitting dress is covered in green sequins, which I sort of love. Her full lips are slicked a deep ruby red and she’s wearing giant earrings that look like emeralds. Like real ones. The Christmas spirit is strong in this one.
“She looks sweet,” I say as I study the photo.
“She looks like a Christmas tree,” Eleanor says, making me laugh.
I read the caption. Candice Gaines is her name. Hmm. I’m sure I’ll meet her in San Francisco, though from what I can tell, I think she lives here. So why is the party in San Francisco? Does Kevin live there? Or his future wife and her family? Guess I’ll find out soon enough.
After handing Eleanor’s phone back to her, she keeps scrolling, her frown deepening the more she investigates. “Yeah. That’s the last photo of him out on the social circuit around here. Back in late November.” Her gaze lifts to mine, her eyebrows raised. “Interesting.”
“It means nothing.”
“How long has he been shopping with you at Bliss?” she asks.
Oh. Um. Around six months.
“I have nothing to do with him not going out with other women,” I tell Eleanor.
“Don’t be so sure about that. I think you might.” I want to argue, but she keeps talking. “I’m currently checking out his LinkedIn profile. You do know he’s kind of a big deal, right? Like he’s worth a lot of money?”
I assumed he was, but I don’t know much about his career. Like, at all. “What exactly does he do?”
“He acquires failing companies and absorbs them into the family business.” She sends me a pointed look. “In other words, he makes a shit ton of money.”
“Eleanor,” I quietly chastise. She doesn’t curse much, so to hear her say shit is a little shocking.
“What? I’m just being honest.” She shrugs. “He’s also one of those types who negotiates acquisitions of major companies, and he does it all over the western United States. Like, this guy is serious business.”
“Wow.” I mean, I knew he was powerful, but I didn’t realize the extent of his business acumen.
“He’s also thirty-three.” Another pointed look from Eleanor.
“Thirty-four,” I correct.
“That means he’s ten years older than you.”
“I know.” I hesitate, then decide to go for it. “Do you think I might have a daddy complex?”
“I thought you didn’t like him.” The knowing smile twisting Eleanor’s lips is slightly annoying.
“I don’t. Not really. I mean, I’m—attracted to him. Somewhat.” Those last three words were choked out. It was hard, admitting that.
“Oh, so now we’re being a little more honest, huh?” She’s still smirking.
“Come on, just answer my question. Do you think I have some sort of weird daddy issue, since I lost mine so many years ago?” God, it pains me to just think I might feel that way. I miss my father. I loved my dad so much, he was so good to us.
He’ll be a hard act to follow, I know that.
“What are you talking about?” Eleanor shakes her head. “If this guy was, like, twenty-five years older than you, then I’d say you have a total daddy complex, but ten years difference? Big deal.”
Relief washes over me and I sag in my chair. “Okay, cool. You made me feel a lot better.”
“I’d say you’re focusing on the wrong things.” She shakes her head and sets her phone on the table. “This guy is big time. Sounds like his family is too. Specifically, his father. Like they’re important, influential people within the community. Well, more his father than him, but you know what I mean.” She grabs her phone again. I swear it’s practically glued to the palm of her hand. “And his sister is kind of a big deal too. She does a lot of charity work in the area. It’s like everyone knows who Candice Gaines is.”
“How do you know?”
“I’m Googling her right now, and all of her images are at various fundraisers, smiling with a bunch of people that I actually recognize.” Eleanor sends me a pointed look.
The salon she works at is pretty high class. As in, lots of people from the area get their hair done there. Specifically, women who live in Carmel with plenty of money.
“What about his mom?” I desperately want to find out more about the woman who raised him. What’s she like? Was she a total witch while he was growing up, and that’s why he’s so awful to me every time I talk to him?
Eleanor changes up her Google search. “His father recently remarried, so they must’ve divorced. Oh, wait. His mother—she died. Fifteen years ago. Cancer.” The sad look on my friend’s face says it all.
She’s thinking of my parents.
“Oh.” So Jared and I have something in common. We’ve lost our parents. What a sad thing to share. “That’s terrible.”
“Yeah.” Eleanor offers me a grim smile. “Maybe that’s something the two of you could—bond over?”
“I don’t plan on doing much bonding with Jared,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s the last per
son I want to bond with.”
“Ooo-kaay.” She draws the word out, and I know she doesn’t believe me.
Which is fine, because I don’t believe myself. I’m full of crap.
We remain quiet for at least a minute—the longest minute of my life—and finally Eleanor says something.
“Then why are you doing this? Going with him to San Francisco for the weekend as his fake date? It makes no sense, especially if you don’t like him. Which, honestly, I don’t believe, but whatever. Oh, wait. He’s not…” Her voice drifts and her expression slowly turns horrified. “He’s not paying you, is he? Are you that hard up for money?”
“I already told you he’s not paying me, I promise.” I shake my head. “This isn’t a Pretty Woman situation.”
Eleanor makes a face. “I always hated that movie.”
I’m seriously shocked. “Are you for real right now?”
“Most definitely. They always try to describe it as the most romantic movie of all time, but please. She was a Hollywood hooker with a heart of gold and blah, blah, blah. And she changes the stiff, wealthy businessman with her magic hoo-ha.”
“Her magic hoo-ha?” I ask slowly, my lips twitching with the need to laugh.
“Yes! One minute he’s telling her don’t kiss me, and the next they’re making out and he’s buying her jewelry and flying her…to San Francisco.” Eleanor pauses. “And he’s in…mergers and acquisitions.” Her smile grows to huge proportions, and she starts to yell, “You are totally in a Pretty Woman situation!”
“I am not!” I yell back at her, horrified at the thought. “No way. I’m not the hooker with a heart of gold with a magical hoo-ha.”
“Thank goodness,” Eleanor mutters, and we both start laughing.
Sixteen
Jared
“So. Are the rumors true?”
Candice’s cheerful voice is going to give me a headache. “Is what true?”
“I hear Kevin convinced you to come to the party.”
My baby sister’s smug tone is almost more than I can bear first thing on a Thursday morning. I’ve only been in the office for a few minutes and I just started scrolling through my inbox when the phone rang.
My gaze snags on A Study in Beige and I turn my back to the horrible painting. “I responded to his invitation, yes,” I tell her, purposely keeping my answer short.
“And you included a plus one.” She doesn’t even bother to hold back. “Who are you bringing? You have to tell me, Jared.”
“Did Kevin put you up to this phone call?” I ask wearily, scrubbing a hand across my face. I’m on my cell phone, and I answered it when I saw her name flash on the screen, despite my reluctance. I figured if I avoided Candice’s calls this morning, she’d march down to my office and bust through the double doors like last time.
Better to just get this over with and carry on with my day.
“No. He wouldn’t do that. I mean, he texted me a few minutes ago to let me know you were coming, and he mentioned you were bringing a date. So I had to call you directly and find out who this mystery woman is.” Candice hesitates for only a moment. My sister is a talker. This is why she’s so good at charity work. She can convince anyone to hand over a huge donation after non-stop chatting them up for fifteen minutes.
“Trust me, you don’t know her.”
“Let me be the judge of that—give me her name. You haven’t been seen out with anyone in months, you know. This is kind of a big deal,” she says, her voice teasing.
“Her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah Morton?”
“No.”
“Sarah Hernandez.”
“Nope.”
“Oh! Sarah Von Wagner? Please tell me it’s not her. She’s the absolute worst,” Candice bemoans.
“It’s definitely not Sarah Von Wagner.” What a pretentious name. Not that it’s her fault, since she was born with it. But the Von Wagners are a pretentious lot, so…
“Are you really saying I don’t know this woman?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since you’ve started guessing.”
“What’s her last name?”
“Harrison.”
“Sarah Harrison.” She’s quiet for a moment, and I hope she isn’t trying to Google Sarah on her iPad. “I don’t know her.”
That’s what I’ve been telling her. “Are you looking her up?”
“Of course I am,” she retorts. “But I don’t see much information about her.”
“She’s not part of our social circle.” I almost don’t want to admit where she works. If I did, Candice would probably go there.
There’s no probably about it. She would definitely go there.
“Plus, she’s a very private person,” I tack on, hoping my sister gets the hint.
“Uh huh.” I can tell Candice isn’t listening to me. She makes a low humming noise before saying, “Interesting. Her address is listed in Seaside.”
“You can actually see her address?” God, the internet is a wonderful and terrible thing all at once.
“No, not her full address, though I could find that out if I wanted to. Would only cost me a total of nineteen-ninety-five through one of those spy sites,” Candice says with a laugh.
“Please don’t spy on her.” A notification pings on my phone and I pull it away from my face to see I have a voicemail. I didn’t even hear the other line ring. “I have to go. There’s a call I need to take.” Not really, but I do want to know who the voicemail is from. And I do need to actually work, unlike my sister. “Talk to you later.”
“Wait! I want to meet Sarah Harrison before we go to San Francisco! Reassure her that the Gaines family isn’t so bad.”
“No.” I’m shaking my head even though she can’t see me. “No way. I don’t want you two to meet.”
“And why the hell not?”
My sister doesn’t say bad words very often, so I know I just pissed her off.
Worse? I can’t come up with a good enough reason for them not to meet.
When I remain quiet for longer than approximately thirty seconds, Candice just dives in. “Let’s go to dinner together this weekend. The three of us. Hopefully I won’t be crashing a romantic weekend or whatever.”
I almost laugh. “I don’t know if we’ll have time for dinner.”
“Why? You have an action planned weekend or what…oh.” She swallows so hard I hear it. “Please don’t tell me what your weekend plans are. I don’t think I want to know.”
She’s implying that Sarah and I are going to have a sex-filled weekend. And that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Unfortunately. “I will spare you the details.”
“Thank God. Though I mean it, Jared. I would love to meet her, especially if you have serious feelings for her. You wouldn’t take just any woman to Kevin’s engagement party, am I right?”
She has no idea.
“Well, I am taking her shopping tomorrow evening…” I let my voice drift, knowing this will tempt Candice.
“Ooooh, really? Shopping? For what?”
“She needs a dress for the party, and she wanted me to go with her so I can give her my opinion while she tries stuff on.” That sounds good, right? Something a couple who’s steadily dating might actually do.
“I love shopping! You know this! I want to come.” Her voice turns a little whiny, and I know I’m going to give in. My sister is a difficult person to resist. “Please, please, Jar? I want to get to know this girl. And I feel like you’re holding something back. Are you two serious? Is she your actual girlfriend? How long have you been seeing each other?”
“Calm down, Jesus,” I mutter, feeling like a shit for talking to her that way. But hey, she calms down, so it worked. “We haven’t been dating that long, so no. It’s not serious. And I don’t want you making a big deal about us, or ask her a bunch of questions, okay? You need to be relaxed when you meet her. Like this is no big deal.”
“I know how to be relaxed.”
&nbs
p; No, she really doesn’t, but that’s fine. This is actually perfect. Maybe Candice can be the distraction Sarah and I need when we go shopping tomorrow. A buffer of sorts, so we don’t have awkward silences or spiteful arguments.
Having my sister around will also prevent me from dragging Sarah into a dressing room and stripping her naked. Right?
Right.
Seventeen
Sarah
Plans have changed.
The moment my phone dings, I grab it, frowning when I see the unfamiliar number and the text. But then I remember that I didn’t put Jared’s name into my phone yet and this is from him.
My breaths become short and I tell myself to not freak out. Has he changed his mind? Is he trying to back out of our plan? Did he realize I’m the last person he wants to take to his brother’s engagement party and he’s canceling on me?
I should be glad he’s canceling on me. The more I think about it, the more I wonder what the hell am I doing, going to San Francisco with this man. I threw all my old cautious ways right out the window and decided to be daring for once in my life.
Totally unlike me.
Realizing I need to answer him, I send a quick text.
What do you mean the plans have changed?
He doesn’t respond for an agonizing four minutes. Like, what in the world is he doing during those four minutes? I don’t understand.
Finally, I receive a text.
My sister is going to accompany us during our shopping excursion tomorrow evening. Candice has fantastic taste, and rest assured she’ll help you find clothing appropriate for next weekend’s trip.
I stare at his response, frowning. Is he so used to composing business emails regarding all of the corporations he’s going to take over that he ends up texting so formally?
You sound like an old man.
Well, I am ten years older than you.
Touché, Mr. Gaines.
Are we grabbing dinner too?
Would you like to?
I may as well get a meal out of this.
Usually I’m starving when I get off work.
Fake Date Page 11