But, though she’d been suspicious on the drive over to his mother’s apartment building, his suit made sense now. Having seen his relationship with his mother, she realized Josh would probably prefer to be having a consultation with his accountant.
For that matter, so would she.
Elizabeth cleared her throat, breaking into Samantha’s thoughts. “Well, I certainly hope you’ll be happy. No matter what you think, Josh, I do actually want what’s best for you.” For the third time, she sniffed. This time, it seemed to indicate she doubted Samantha was up to the job.
If she’d wanted the position, Samantha would have doubted it herself.
This was a false engagement, she reminded herself. That was all. Nothing more and certainly nothing less. There was no reason to read into anything, no need to worry if things were getting out of hand. This was simply about might.
Frank was rich. Josh was richer.
There was no getting around it. The bank balances told a tale of their own. But if there was one thing Jamie’s parents understood it was money and how to wield it. With Josh at her side, she knew she could make a powerful impression on her in-laws, one so unforgettable, they’d never question her right to have full custody over Erin.
She knew this solution wasn’t perfect. It brought with it its own perils, like the fact they were confirming the incorrect belief that she and Josh had been having an affair behind the scenes prior to Jamie’s death. But, in the face of it, if it got her in-laws to back off on the custody front, she could deal with the blow to her self-respect. She’d rupture it entirely if it meant keeping Erin safe.
The smile Elizabeth sent their way was most definitely false. As false as this engagement. Still, people didn’t have to like it for them to believe it. Frank and Janice included.
“I often wondered who would snare my boy,” Elizabeth said, her tone musing, but the gleam in her eyes said Samantha fell far short of her imaginings. “How did he propose?”
Samantha cleared her throat. The question was definitely for her, but it contradicted her wish to leave this conversation mostly in Josh’s hands. It was going to be quite obvious that he’d done most of the talking if she didn’t answer now, though. He squeezed her knee, and she was surprised by her own reaction to the comforting touch.
Or maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised.
After being married to Jamie for far too many years, a tender touch from the man in her life, even if he was only temporary, wasn’t something she was accustomed to.
At that moment, she realized she was like a sponge slurping up water after having been dehydrated. Her throat closed as the need to place her fingers on top of his filled her. She flushed, and wished away the strange need to connect with the man who had never liked her but was going to be her salvation.…
This was a charade, she reminded herself.
A lie.
“We were at dinner and he just dropped to his knee and asked me.” She kept it simple. There was no need to over embellish. The easier a lie was to remember, the fewer mistakes could be made. And she couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. Not with her child’s happiness on the line.
Elizabeth clucked her tongue. “Joshua is a handsome brute but he certainly isn’t a romantic. Still one can’t have everything, I suppose.” Elizabeth shot her a tight smile. “Let me see the ring.”
Swallowing, Samantha curled up her fingers. “I don’t have one yet.”
Elizabeth peered at them both. Quirking a brow, she murmured, “An unusual choice—unlike you to wait for a woman’s approval in anything, dear.”
“Samantha’s an unusual lady,” Josh murmured smoothly. “Why shouldn’t she have a say in what she’ll wear for the rest of her life?”
“How very caveman of you,” Elizabeth retorted. “Not very fashionable, dear.”
Though she was uneasy about what a ring represented, and truly didn’t intend for him to go to any further expense on this charade, she found she had to defend his choice. “I think it’s a beautiful sentiment,” Samantha murmured softly, meaning it.
“Well, you’re the one who has to wear it, I suppose, so your input would be better,” Elizabeth murmured. She pursed her lips before taking a dainty sip of coffee. “It’s short notice for the club.”
“It’s never short notice for me,” Josh said, and though the statement was arrogant, his tone wasn’t. He was stating the truth. No venue in New York, shit, probably the world, would turn down his business. That was just a fact.
Once upon a time, she'd have been in awe of that. Impressed at how he could maneuver through society.
But that would have been a long time ago now. She’d grown desensitized to wealth over her years with Jamie. Having learned what it could do, the doors it opened and closed, as well as the way it had trapped her in her untenable circumstances, she’d begun to view money as an evil.
Josh’s bank balance didn’t interest her, but from the taut tension in Elizabeth’s face, his mother definitely believed Samantha’s motives were centered in his wealth.
Which, though she didn’t particularly like him, was very unfair on his behalf.
Josh was an attractive man. Very attractive. Though she’d always seen that before, it was weird how she was noticing it more now. He had power, could hold a good conversation when he wasn’t being a jerk, had a charitable foundation he was actually interested in and took an active part in, and had a brilliant sense of humor if the laughter she remembered hearing coming from Jamie’s den when the pair hung out together was anything to go by.
Elizabeth was totally selling her son short if she thought a woman could only ever be interested in her son’s money.
Although, knowing the type of woman Elizabeth was, maybe it made sense. As a mother, most of her maternal interest was focused there. Why wouldn’t a potential wife’s be too?
That train of thought definitely saddened her.
Her father had been a jerk, but Samantha’s mother was a darling. Given a choice between any number of dollars and her mother, Samantha would always choose her mama. Because of her, she knew how to be a good parent. Knew her own worth too. And knew that her mother had always had her back—God rest her soul. Unlike Josh, who had several hundred millions padding his accounts, but an absent mom.
The rest of the conversation, and the meeting itself, was nothing more than a series of shots lobbed at one another. By the end, Samantha had a neck strain from moving her head from side to side. It was like watching a tennis match.
Samantha had always hated tennis.
When she thought about her relationship with her own mother she was relieved hers was nothing like Josh’s. When she had been with her mom, she could relax. Could find a strange sense of peace that came from being half-child again in the presence of adults.
God, she missed her.
Here, though, there was no peace for Josh.
He and Elizabeth were adversaries, fighting a war on a battlefield that had been established a long time ago. Probably long before Jamie and Josh had become such close friends.
When they finally escaped Elizabeth’s sleek penthouse, Samantha found herself split in two. She was relieved to be out of there, happy to be over that first hurdle, but she also felt sorry and saddened on Josh’s behalf.
That had not been a pleasant way to pass a few hours.
When they made it out of the apartments, entering the elevator that would take them to the garage floor, Josh didn’t say a word, just pulled out his phone and began texting somebody. In the mirrored box, she didn’t have to turn her head to study him, and though he’d never interested her before, she found herself watching the minutiae of his expression.
With his head bowed, the lights enhanced the gleam in his hair. He also looked more tanned, an impossibility considering how much time he spent indoors in his office building. A man like Josh didn’t get rich by sunbathing by the side of the pool. He just owned the pool, paid somebody to clean it, but probably barely used it.
As Josh read from his phone, she was quite charmed to see his lips move. The tell surprised her. She wondered what that meant.
Was he nervous?
Angry?
She supposed it didn’t really matter. Samantha intended to be around him long enough to fool her in-laws, but not long enough to learn such facts.
The elevator lights revealed other startling truths. Like how well his suit clung to his frame, lovingly sitting atop his body, without obscenely revealing his muscles. Save for now. His posture, and the lighting, helped her to see his belly beneath the cotton/silk blend of his shirt. Not only that, but she saw the faint lines either side of his eyes, as well as on his brow. He was only thirty-two, six years older than she was, but they were quite deep.
From stress?
He didn’t have a particularly mobile face, so she assumed so.
As the doors opened, his head shot up. She managed to avert her glance before he caught her staring, but when he saw his car idling outside the elevator, he murmured, “Ladies first.”
The chauffeur was there, waiting, and he opened the door for her. Josh rounded the back of the vehicle to climb in the other side.
As she settled into the plush interior, she felt it shrink with Josh’s presence. It grew even smaller when the driver sat behind the wheel.
Jamie had always gone without a driver. But then, he’d not driven sedate sedans. He preferred sports cars. Low, fast. Expensive.
“Thank you for this,” she said softly before his attention could fully revert to his phone, and as the chauffeur drove them out of the parking lot underneath his mother’s building.
“It’s the least I can do.”
And that was that.
He didn’t want her thanks. Didn’t need her gratitude.
Why? Because he felt guilty?
Because he felt like Jamie had deceived him?
Did the answers matter? She guessed not. Still, she truly appreciated what he was doing for her. Knew how much of his time they were taking up with this game they were playing.
She guessed she shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth though. Should just be thankful for small mercies…
So why was she irked by his lack of grace?
Samantha didn’t have the answer to that either, and wasn’t sure she’d ever find a response that would satisfy her. Because why she needed to feel satisfied was beyond explanation.
Chapter 6
Samantha
“You didn’t.”
“I had to.” Samantha covered her face with her palm, then peeped through her fingers at her still-gawking friend. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I had to.”
Jessica shook her head like a poodle post-bath. Her fluffy curls bobbed and swayed with the motion, dancing over her features, partially hiding her expression—not enough. Her astonishment was evident for all to see.
All being the swanky coffee house Jessica managed. It was all boho chic and organic Fairtrade coffee beans with vegan options on the predominantly vegetarian menu.
“I go away for a week and I come back to this!”
“It’s not that bad,” she whispered. “And keep your voice down. This has to look real.”
Jessica squinted at her. “How can it look real? You’re terrified of the man!”
“No, I’m not,” she immediately grumbled, folding her arms across her chest.
She’d waited to tell her friend about the news of her ‘engagement’ while Jessica was making them coffee. Of course, that hadn’t gone well—Jess had managed to spill half the frothy almond milk all over the counter.
With the sodden dishrag in hand, Jessica waggled it at her. “You totally are. And I don’t blame you. The man’s a beast.”
“Hardly,” Samantha countered. “Look at what he’s doing for us.”
“You know what I mean. Everyone talks about him. Even here. He’s like the real life Christian Grey.” Jessica’s eyes opened wide. “You don’t think he has a Red Room of Pain too?”
Despite herself, Samantha suppressed a chuckle. Jess’s expression was a mixture of loathing and wonder. Like she was angry at herself for being excited about the notion of the Joshua Lewis having a room full of whips and nipple rings.
Considering Jessica considered herself a definite feminist, and was really very verbal about her political stance, the former made sense. The latter reaction, wonder, surprised Samantha enough to let out the giggle she’d been withholding.
Jess could be so militant sometimes that for her to flounder was very amusing.
“If he does, I won’t be the one to tell you, will I? This is purely platonic.”
Was it a mental slip that she wanted to tack on the word, unfortunately.
Shit, what was going on with her at the moment?
She really did not find Josh attractive. Well, okay, that was kind of a lie. Any woman with ovaries would find her fake fiancé attractive. It was impossible not to. With that silky hair, stern expression, the panty-melting suits that covered a body every XX chromosome responded to, there was no way any woman could hide from the visceral response he triggered.
The man was a walking catalyst for lust, and the proof of that was in Jess’ wide-eyed glance.
“Purely platonic,” she scoffed. “A guy like him never does anything to be nice.”
“You’d be surprised.” Samantha had never shared the truth of her relationship with Jamie. How could she?
Jessica was so outspoken, and so unafraid of voicing her opinions. If Samantha had told her the truth, she had no doubt Jess would have shown up at their penthouse one day just to ream Jamie a new one.
Considering the precariousness of her relationship with her then-husband, that was something she hadn’t been able to abide by.
Though she knew Jamie’s possessiveness would never have allowed him to let her go, she was well aware that marriages like hers could end badly.
And as his family was very, very rich, and hers wasn’t… well, badly took on another kind of edge.
Her throat felt thick at the thought, because Samantha knew just what a Godsend Jamie’s death had been. A thought that triggered the most guilt she’d ever felt, because what a thing to think!
There was no avoiding the truth though.
In the midst of his cocaine-soaked rages, he’d been unstoppable. When he’d slapped her sober, it had hurt. Enough to whip her head around, to make it feel like it could spin off her damn neck. But when he was high, it had turbocharged everything.
She’d gone from him being careful at the start of their marriage; hiding his nasty work by hitting her torso, grabbing her arms and shaking her so she could wear long sleeves to cover the bruises, but as he’d grown more addicted, that had changed.
She probably had more experience with a makeup brush than some professional make-up artists did; a notion that had any light-heartedness disappearing from her mood. There was no way she could laugh about her past, not when it was so recent. And not when it could have continued just as bad or ended even worse.
Gnawing at her bottom lip, she whispered, “Josh can be nice.”
“How do you know? Whenever he and Jamie hung out, you always complained about Josh. You said he was mean to you.”
She winced. “Mean, that sounds so juvenile. Are we at school or something?”
Jess snorted. “Well, I don’t know, Sam, you’re the one involved in a fake relationship. You tell me.”
Pouting, Samantha retorted, “You’re supposed to be nice to me.”
“Says who?” Jessica demanded, sounding so outraged that Samantha, despite her tumble into her recent history and the downer it
had caused, had to laugh. “If anything, I’m the one who’s supposed to keep you on solid ground!”
“Well, there’s definitely no risk of me taking off on a flight with you around,” Sam groused. “Anyways, you know why I’m doing this. You know I don’t really have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
“Says you. You know that Frank and Janice live in a whole other sphere to the likes of me and you. If they want custody, then there’s no way any judge is going to back me. They’re going to support their custody plea, and I can’t have that. I won’t have it.”
“You’re rich too,” Jessica countered. “You have no need to rely on a man like Joshua Lewis.”
“Says who? The terms of Erin’s inheritance and trust are very specific. I can’t use any of the money to fight someone in court over his guardianship. I’m allowed to pay for his housing, food, bills, his care, things like that. Not a lawyer to ensure he can stay with me. And can you even imagine the kind of attorney Frank and Janice will hire? It would cost a fortune to fight!”
Jessica pulled a face. “I still don’t like it.”
“You think I do?”
“No, but… I don’t get what’s changed. They were fine with the way things were. What’s happened?”
“They don’t like how I’m raising him.” It was a half-truth. Awkward, and stilted, she wasn’t sure if Jessica would hear the falsity behind the words. “You know what they’re like. Ultra conservative.” Even down to the alcoholic wife and the husband who really didn’t give a fuck about anything other than himself, his money, and his politics.
“How can they disapprove? Erin is loved, and he’s happy. In fact, every time I see him, I’m surprised at how happy the kid is. Considering his dad just died, you know?” She shook her head. “Surely that’s proof of how good a job you’re doing.”
Samantha cleared her throat, uneasy with how close to the truth they were running with this conversation. “Where’s that coffee?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
It worked, but Jess’s narrowed eyes told her that this chat wasn’t over.
Believing Her: An Enemies to Lovers Fake Fiancé Romance Page 4