Single Dad's Wife (Fake Marriage Romance)

by Lara Swann

  “Wait, what?!” I interrupt, stopping her. “No, ohh no, Jessica—we’ve worked so damn hard on that presentation.”

  “And it will work fine next year. We’ll even have more data.” She shakes her head as she looks at me, understanding mixed with disappointment in her gaze. “This is more important, Nathan, I know that.”

  “But…” I stand there for a moment, stunned. I was expecting an argument, with no small amount of apologizing on my part, but instead…this is how she’s reacting?

  I breathe out deeply and walk over to her, some of the tension draining from me as a warm feeling takes its place. I take her face in my hands and kiss her softly, enjoying everything about her - her taste, her touch, the fire and strength in her. The willingness to support me. It’s hard to let go of a stomach still twisted in knots, still half-anticipating a confrontation that I’m slowly realizing isn’t going to come.

  Jessica just isn’t like that.

  Not that it makes what I’m asking of her any better.

  “I’m sorry, Jessica—”

  “It’s fine, Nathan. Really.”

  Looking in her eyes, she really seems to mean it.

  “We don’t have to cancel it, you know.” I say. “I never meant to suggest that.”

  “But—”

  “You could do it.” I say, before she can object. “You know the presentation just as well as me—and this is your thing. You told me you were going to do it yourself, whether I was interested in being involved or not—”

  “That was about next year.” She says, her eyes widening as she shakes her head. “You were the one that suggested I go for it this year—and whatever I said, it’s a hell of a lot easier with you—”

  “I know, and I’m sorry about that. Really sorry. But that doesn’t mean you can’t do it alone. You could go, represent our practice, talk to people, bring new ideas back…you’ve got this just as much as I have.” I kiss her again, my mouth hovering over hers partly because I can’t resist it, and partly so that she’s distracted long enough that she actually thinks about it instead of just objecting.

  “Go for it, Jessica.” I murmur. “As you say, they’re not expecting much. The pressure’s off—and we’ve already done all the work. You don’t need me. You never have.”

  She looks up at me, doubt clouding her expression—but I see the spark of excitement behind it, too. The determination that I know will surface if she just gives it enough time.

  “You really think so?”

  “Of course I do. You’re brilliant, Jessica. You always have been. You don’t need to wait a year to do this—you can do it now.”

  She takes a deep breath, really thinking it through and I smile, knowing I’ve won.

  “I’ll help you for the rest of the week.” I say, encouraging her further. “I’ll brainstorm questions, help you edit it down a little for just one person to pilot—and it’s going to be great.”

  She pauses for just a moment longer, then finally sags against me, the protests disappearing

  “Okay.” She says, and I can hear the tremor of excitement in her voice—see it in her eyes as she looks at me. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  I kiss her again, teasing and tempting her lips as I enjoy the sudden passion in her responses, her body shifting into mine as she lets me distract her from all the fears and doubts that will be crowding into her mind the instant after the decision.

  “I fucking do need you, by the way.” She adds, her voice slightly deeper as lust flares within it. “So much.”

  I chuckle. “Well, I’m not going to object to that. Not when I need you too. Damn it, Jessica, I’d never have thought you’d be okay with…”

  “Shh…” She says, quietening me with another kiss, one that she leans into just a little bit more, her hands trailing over my hips and sending a flare of desire through me. “It’s fine. Spend the weekend with Emma—and then when I come back, you can tell me all about it.”

  I smile, deepening the kiss. I already can’t wait for that, and she’s not even gone, yet.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jessica

  I look out at the people filtering into the room I’ve been given for my presentation, my body tingling with nerves as I mentally curse Nathan and his uncanny skill with pep talks.

  So far, coming out to Baltimore, Maryland and staying overnight in preparation for the conference has only been exciting, but now that I’m faced with a room full of people…who I’m going to have to start talking to in just a few minutes…that excitement is quickly fading to nervousness.

  It’s a much bigger room than I was expecting, too, with far more attendees - and most of them appear far older and more experienced than me. They’re probably all firmly established in their fields, have attended this conference for years and…and…what business do I have presenting anything to them?!

  I force myself to take a few deep breaths and calm down, but the sight is still unnerving. I would have thought they’d assign a much smaller slot to someone with no experience, but apparently the topic of my talk was popular.

  Just what I wanted.

  I mean, it was. But also…I could have done without the pressure, too.

  Everyone gradually takes their seats and the hubbub slowly dies down, as I fiddle with the computer and go through my slides one more time - mostly so I don’t have to stand and look at all the people who are expecting me to do this.

  What was I thinking? Why did I ever agree to do this?

  When the clock finally ticks onto the start time, I take a deep breath and make myself stand up anyway - and I’m surprised when the room quietens in response. Someone at the back - I don’t see who - dims the lights slightly, so that the slides appear more clearly and I suddenly feel like I’m in a far more impressive-looking position than I have any right to be.

  I clear my throat and flick onto the first slide - my title - and try to make myself do this anyway, pushing down the slight panic in the pit of my stomach.

  “I…um, I…” I stare out at the sea of faces, losing my train of thought almost instantly, and hope the darkness covers my flush as I try to get it back. “I wanted to talk to you about…”

  No, crap, that sounds pathetic. That’s not what I was supposed to say.

  C’mon, Jessica. You’ve got this. You’ve practiced for weeks. Just ignore them—present it to Nathan, like you have a dozen times before.

  I take a deep breath and step forward, deliberately ignoring how my weak start might look to everyone watching me, and use the motion to propel me back into some form of control.

  “I came here today from Blake’s Family Practice, based in Connecticut,” I start again, my voice much stronger as it stretches out over the room, “to talk to you about an initiative that we’ve launched over the last couple of years to improve access to health-care and early diagnostics among our patients—and, despite common assumptions, the remarkably positive effects it has had on our business. Including our bottom-line.”

  I flick onto the next slide and the cold, hard facts on it are immediately reassuring as I continue, getting into the rhythm I’ve practiced over and over again. I know this off by heart and I barely need to glance at the slides, instead facing out and talking to my audience. I’m almost surprised to find them actually listening. No one is standing up and asking what the hell I’m doing here—just who am I, anyway—and no one is talking or muttering among themselves. Somehow, I seem to be holding their attention.

  As I continue, the content becomes easier - almost automatic - and I even find myself adding a few things on the fly, a couple of thoughts I’ve had recently that haven’t made it into the presentation, or the recent comments from a patient who came in last Friday. The people watching me slowly become a little less intimidating, and though my nerves are still jangling all over my body at being up here in front of them, the adrenaline behind it almost starts to feel good. Like a kind of buzz.

  I get through the presentation without any missteps and
when the part I’d feared most comes at the end - the questions - I find it far easier than I expected. Everyone is so much nicer and more respectful than I’d anticipated, with most making a point to thank me for the presentation and comment on how interesting they found it, and answering most of the questions feels natural—almost like simply talking to someone.

  That’s the advice Nathan gave me when I asked how he managed to sound so natural whenever I fired questions at him - just to think of it as a one-on-one discussion - and I’m surprised that I don’t even have to think about it to start responding that way.

  The questions aren’t as challenging as I’d assumed, either. Several are to clarify small points of detail, and with how intensively I’ve been working on this presentation and all the source material, the answers are come immediately purely from the top of my head, which I think comes across more impressive than it actually is. A few ask interesting things about data we haven’t explored, and I mentally try to make a note to look into those when I get home, and a couple ask my opinion on wider trends in the industry.

  Those I have to think a little longer for, since I haven’t prepared for them in the same way, but I find myself talking naturally anyway - giving my actual opinion and being slightly surprised when it’s accepted thoughtfully.

  There are only two slightly adversarial questions, challenging what I’m saying and trying to insist that what we’ve done isn’t working the way we think it is - and I surprise myself by finding those some of the most interesting ones to answer. I’ve prepared well for them and each time manage to engage in a quick debate that probably doesn’t appease either of those individuals, but at least gives them something to think over.

  When I get a more open-ended question about how well I think this would work in another environment and about whether I’ve ever seen anyone else do something similar, I turn it back out to the whole group and encourage a general discussion about it, asking people to speak up with their experiences. That devolves into a fascinating discussion that I almost wish I could be taking notes on as well, but I contribute where I can and try to remember to look into some of the initiatives that are mentioned in passing.

  This was the kind of format we’d hoped to get to at the end anyway - splitting the group into smaller segments and having a few discussion points - but this is far too many people for that approach and with all the questions, we’re running slightly over anyway, so when that discussion is done I finally wrap things up.

  It only occurs to me when the lights come back up and I take a deep breath, shaking slightly with the after-effect of nerves, that I managed to handle running the more complicated parts at the end so much more confidently than I did at the start.

  “Damn.” I murmur to myself, holding my hands out in front of me and watching them shake slightly. “That was definitely…an experience.”

  “It certainly was.”

  I jump at the voice behind me, turning to see the conference organizer who had shown me to the room and trying not to blush to be overheard talking to myself.

  “Thank you so much for agreeing to step in at the last minute, Dr. Rivers.” He says, clearly not bothered about that. “That was a fascinating presentation, and I think the audience got a lot out of it.”

  I smile, some of the warmth of satisfaction and achievement starting to seep into me and calm the remaining nerves. I don’t know how much he’s just saying that because it’s his job, but right now I’ll take it. I do feel like I did a good job.

  “I hope so. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “I wanted to come over to thank you properly - and to leave you my business card. If you still want to present again next year, as you said you might, then please just give me a call. We’d be glad to have you back.”

  “Oh, I…thank you.” I say, more than a little surprised. I take the business card and he smiles back at me.

  “Enjoy the conference, Dr. Rivers.” He nods and then turns to go. No doubt his job is one of those where you have to be in a dozen different places at once.

  When he’s gone I finally take a moment to sit down in front of the podium. There’s a half-hour break to allow for changeover of presentations, so no one is going to try to kick me out immediately—and right now, I need a moment. I’m still a little shell-shocked that it’s already over.

  “I did it.” I murmur to myself, as that starts to sink in. “I really, actually did it.”

  A thrill races through me as that sinks in - as well as a huge helping of relief - and I almost feel like jumping up and whooping. Instead I glance around again just to make sure no one heard me that time.

  Then I laugh a little to myself, and take out my cell phone to see several messages waiting. I smile immediately as I see who it is, opening them up.

  Nathan: Good luck, Jess. You’ve got this!

  Nathan: Love you xx

  Nathan: Bet you’re rocking those old-timers socks’ off right now.

  Nathan: Can’t wait to hear all about it.

  Nathan: Missing you xx

  I almost laugh out loud, a warm flush running through me as I see the timestamps all throughout my presentation. He knew exactly when it was and that I wouldn’t be able to reply, but he sent the messages anyway—and clearly, he was thinking of little else the whole time. I smile, tingling all over from my success and the obvious love in those messages.

  Me: It went really well. People really seemed interested - and some great discussions, too.

  I’m about to put my phone away and pack up the laptop, but his response comes almost immediately and I smile to see it. I guess he was waiting for my message.

  Nathan: I knew it! Well done, Jess! I’m sure you were amazing. Wish I could have seen it :)

  Nathan: What questions did you get? Were people dismissive?

  Nathan: What sort of discussions? Has anyone else done anything similar?

  I laugh again, shaking my head. The temptation to type everything out and tell him all about it is almost irresistible, but if I do that I know I’ll never get out of here before the next session needs to start setting up.

  Me: I’ll tell you all about it when I get home, promise xx

  Nathan: Okayyyy fine. Can’t wait to see you xx

  Me: How are you? How’s Emma?

  This time there’s a pause before the message comes through, and I start disconnecting the laptop and shutting it down.

  Nathan: She’s good, actually. Seems happy to be staying over here tonight. Not sure how she’ll deal with leaving tomorrow, but for the moment I’m just trying to make the most of it.

  Me: That’s great, Nathan. So glad you can be there for her.

  I mean it, too. Every word. Emma needs him right now.

  Nathan: Me too. Miss you though.

  Me: Miss you too. Love you xx

  Me: Going to go look around the conference now.

  Nathan: Have fun xx

  I finally put the phone away, knowing that if I keep it within reach I won’t stop messaging him. I finish packing everything up and go to store it in the cloakroom, feeling momentarily dazed as I stand up.

  It’s really done. Already. All that prep and now…it’s done.

  It’s a weird feeling, but I feel much lighter than when I arrived as I walk into the lobby and give all my presentation materials over to the clerk at the checkroom. After that, and with nothing else to worry about for the rest of the weekend, I’m free to enjoy myself and make the most of the conference.

  And I do.

  I look through the list of presentations, people attending and discussion groups going on and quickly find the ones I’m most interested in. I’d been a little worried that I might feel out of place or uncomfortable here by myself - I’ve never been the best at making conversation with people I don’t know - but I soon find that I’m interested enough in the discussions going on that it’s easier than I think. It helps that a few people recognize me from my presentation too, and by the afternoon I find myself attending semin
ars with a group of people, and seeing familiar faces throughout the conference.

  That gives me enough confidence to simply relax and enjoy the conference, and it makes me wonder why I never put more effort into coming to these things before.

  By the end of the day, I already know I want to come back next year - and possibly look into a few other events that doctors and health-care professionals here have recommended - and I can’t wait to bring Nathan, too. I’m sure he’d enjoy it far more than he initially thought.

  I have dinner that night with a few people at the conference and we exchange numbers, already making plans to keep in contact and get updates on each others’ various initiatives as they progress further.

  The next day goes just as well as the first, and partway through I’m on my way to a session on ‘Primary Care within Hospitals’ that I’d had on my list from the beginning, when I walk past another presentation just starting up, the title catching my eye and making me stop in my tracks.

  Mental Health Prevention and Treatment in Primary Care Environments.

  “You okay?” Katie, one of the doctors I’d been walking with from lunch, pauses and looks back to me.

  “Ah…yeah. You go ahead. I’m—I might just see what this one is about.”

  She glances at it, then shrugs with a smile. “Sure - if you decide to miss out on ‘Primary Care in Hospitals’ I can always talk you through how that went later.”

  “Thanks.” I smile in appreciation and she turns to go, not wanting to miss the start of that session.

  I hesitate. I did want to go and see that too, but…I glance inside the room, where everyone is starting to settle down for the talk, curiosity getting the better of me. I haven’t seen many seminars on mental health here—and as they start closing the doors, I give into temptation and take a seat at the back.

  The woman at the front - Dr. Reynolds - starts a few moments later, and within moments I’m wrapped up in what she’s saying. She’s got the kind of commanding, impressive presence that immediately draws you in - something I would have wished for this morning - and she’s clearly articulate and knowledgeable about her subject, showing far more evidence than I’ve ever seen about the impact Primary Care can have on patients with mental health disorders.