by Elias Taylor
Three things were certain. First, this fake fiancée was doing more for Tristen’s career than even landing a huge account. Second, his boss and co-workers were willing to believe whatever Tristen told them; they trusted him.
And third, if David ever found out the truth, Tristen was going to get fired.
David was a good guy. He had a strong moral compass. And in his book, the only thing worse than a single guy without a family was a guy who lied about having a family.
Chapter Three: Jump
As Kayla had suspected, her bright blue earrings were not doing much to satisfy her mother.
She had only been with her parents, George and Helen Carpenter, for fifteen minutes, and already her mom has asked if she had been on any dates lately. Kayla had to wonder if Cleo and Helen were in cahoots. Were they secretly having weekly phone calls about Kayla’s lack of a social life?
At least she had her dad. George was grilling Kayla over their chicken pasta about the big account she had at work.
“So you have full control?” he asked. “Baby, that’s amazing.”
“Yeah, it’s going to be a lot of work, but I’m excited,” Kayla said.
Kayla’s dad had always been supportive, even when Kayla was talking about her big 10 Year Plan when she was sixteen. Other fathers might have ignored it or laughed it off, but never George. He took his daughter’s goals and ambitions seriously. He was her biggest cheerleader, and he had researched both her college and her firm with meticulous care. He almost overdid it, but Kayla appreciated it.
Her mother, on the other hand, could be a trial. She barely seemed to listen to Kayla as she described the new account and how big of a deal it was.
When Kayla was finished explaining all the details, her dad grinned, but her mother just heaved a sigh.
“I was reading an article about how unhealthy it is for young women to be too focused on careers,” her mother said.
Kayla pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. It was all she could do not to scream in frustration.
“Really, mom?” Kayla asked. “Where was that article?”
“Well, let’s settle down,” her dad said. “Kayla looks very healthy.”
He gave his wife a pointed look, and Helen just shrugged.
After dinner, Kayla’s dad took over the dishes. Kayla wandered into the living room and plopped down in an armchair. Not much got under her skin, but as soon as she was back in her parent’s house, she felt like she turned back into a teenager.
She could remember, sitting in this very red floral armchair at fifteen, frowning up at the painting of a field and bemoaning how her mother just didn’t get how important it was that Kayla have SAT Prep. Her mother didn’t understand how if Kayla didn’t ace the SAT’s, she would never get into a good college or a good accounting course, and then she would never get the job she wanted, and then her entire plan would blow up in a poof of smoke.
Ten years later, and Kayla was still slouched in the armchair and wondering why her mother just didn’t get her.
Kayla tried to straighten up as her mother entered the room and sat down next to her.
“I don’t mean to nitpick, honey,” Helen said. “I know this new account is very impressive.”
Her mother ran her hand over the fabric of her yellow couch. Kayla knew that Helen had spent ages selecting that shade to match the living room.
“Your dad tells me it’s impressive anyway,” her mother said.
Kayla could imagine her dad giving his wife a pep talk about how Kayla deserved a little more recognition.
“I just see how Beau always has these fun plans every week, and I worry about you,” Helen said.
The truth of the matter was that Kayla was her dad’s favorite, and her older brother Beau would always be her mom’s favorite. Kayla never got mad over that, it was only fair.
“Beau doesn’t have a job,” Kayla said.
She didn’t want to put down her brother, but it was true. Beau had been temping for a while, then he was a bartender, then he swore he wanted to be an entrepreneur, but lately no one could figure out what he was doing. He spent his days just having a good time. His whole existence was so devoid of structure, the very thought of it made Kayla shiver.
“What I mean is,” Kayla said. “I’m not like Beau.”
“I always thought you two were more similar than you realized,” her mother said.
Kayla let an undignified snort escape. Her mother was crazy.
“No, really, I remember when you were young,” her mother said.
Helen leaned back against the couch, and her eyes became glazed over as she looked back on years long past.
“You were such a playful kid,” Helen said. “You weren’t serious about anything, and even in middle school, they all said girls struggle or become cautious at that time, but you were as wild as ever.”
Kayla blinked. She tried to remember herself in middle school. It was so long ago, but she could definitely recall a few crazy sleepovers with her friends. They had thought it was so fun to pull all-nighters.
“You were always running from one thing to another, like a demon, without ever worrying or thinking about the consequences,” her mother said. “You were impulsive.”
No one had ever called Kayla impulsive. At least not in a very long time.
“Everyone is impulsive when they’re kids,” Kayla said.
“I don’t know,” her mother said. “I even tried to get you to be a little more serious or cautious, especially after you jumped off that bridge when we were on vacation in Colorado, remember?”
Kayla remembered a hot summer day and the lurch in her gut when she saw the bridge over the river. She had jumped off it without even thinking. She had been so young. And a little impulsive, she supposed.
“Then you went to that college prep course in the ninth grade,” her mother said.
Kayla allowed herself a small smile. Only her mother could make the words “college prep course” sound so ominous.
“You came out of that a totally different person,” her mother said. “You had a five-year plan and a ten-year plan and a list of statistics proving that you just had to be an accountant.”
“That’s what the career quiz said,” Kayla said. “And that course was really useful.”
Her mother was right. The college prep course had changed Kayla. Or rather, it had woken Kayla up. She could still remember the prickling sensation she got on the back of her neck when the instructor started talking about how everything they did now would affect who they were going to be in ten years, twenty years. They were laying the foundations for the rest of their lives, so they had better start making sure the foundation was strong because they wouldn’t be able to redo it.
That had all made so much sense. Kayla had believed in that instructor’s philosophy with all her heart from that moment onwards. She was bummed that her mother thought she had been brainwashed, but Kayla still did believe in the importance of laying a good foundation and creating plans to reach goals.
Kayla glanced over at her mom. She looked so sad. Kayla supposed it could be tough to watch your kids grow up.
“Mom, I’m still the same person I’ve always been,” Kayla said. “I just have all these goals, and I know myself. If I let myself get a little off course, I’ll never be able to stop getting distracted.”
Helen let out another sigh and shrugged. It was as if she wanted Kayla to get distracted. Well, Kayla was not about to apologize.
“Mom, I’ve come really far,” Kayla said. “I like what I do, and I’m good at what I do, and I don’t want to lose momentum.”
Her mother smiled and leaned closer.
“Of course, honey, and I am proud of you,” her mom said. “I just want you to have a well-rounded life, that’s all.”
Kayla was getting extremely tired of all the deep talks about how she needed more of a life. She had a life. She had a good life that she had made for herself.
“Ok, mom,” Kayla said.
“I’d better head out.”
She stood up and headed back into the kitchen to say good night to her dad. Her mother could worry all she wanted; Kayla was not going to stop what she was doing.
“Leaving already?” her dad asked.
“Yeah, it’s been a long week,” Kayla said. “But I’ll see you at the biker social tomorrow.”
She hugged both her parents and dashed to her car.
Even as she sped away and left her parent’s house behind her, Kayla kept thinking about that long ago jump from the bridge. She could remember the event, but not all the details. How cold had the water been? Had her feet touched the bottom? What had it been like to tumble through the air without knowing how or when she could land? If only she could do it again, just to remember the thrill of it all.
Kayla shook her head. She was actually daydreaming about jumping off a bridge. Her mother was getting to her.
The buzz of her phone offered something else to think about. Kayla scooped it up when she was stopped at a red light and read a text from Cleo.
According to her friend, “everyone” was down at Tate’s Bar. Cleo insisted Kayla come join. She texted that “even accountants can have fun on a Friday!”
Kayla felt a rush of excitement. Something to do, if just to prove her mother wrong. She aimed the car in the direction of the bar. Cleo would be so surprised; she was always inviting Kayla to these things, but Kayla never showed. Kayla grinned as she imagined Cleo’s expression of shock when she saw Kayla walk right into the bar and accept a drink from the first guy who offered.
About two blocks from the bar, Kayla pulled over.
This was stupid. She had the bike thing next Friday, and that was her big social event of the month. Kayla tried to only have one social event each month, for the sake of time management.
Besides, Kayla didn’t even like drinking. It didn’t matter how cute or nice the guy was, Kayla probably wouldn’t accept alcohol.
She almost always stuck to seltzer water or the occasional glass of wine with dinner. The few times Kayla had gotten very drunk – once with Cleo on her twenty-first birthday, and once in college – had been enough to put Kayla off drinking hard alcohol forever. she hated the way drinks blurred her senses and made her head feel all fuzzy and unfocused. She detested the lack of control.
So was Kayla really going to go to the bar, on a stupid whim based on a desire to prove something to her mother and friend? She would just end up awkward and alone, standing in the corner in her work slacks and gripping a glass of seltzer water. As if a guy would even offer to buy her a drink. Everything about Kayla, from her serious facial expressions (or her Resting Bitch Face as Cleo called it) to her practical grey blazer to her non-alcoholic preferences, screamed No Fun. She was not the type of girl that guys approached in bars. Not by a long shot.
Not that she wanted to attract guys at all. That was the bottom line. She had no real reason to go out tonight. She didn’t want what her mother and her friend thought she should want. She just didn’t.
With quick movements, Kayla turned her engine back on and whirled the car around.
She was going home, and she was going to get to bed early. Just like she had planned.
Chapter Four: Bonfire
Tristen had only been at the bike event for an hour, but he was already on his second plate of food. He figured he deserved it after the weeks he had.
Tomorrow morning, Tristen was going to have to figure out his excuse for showing up to the work dinner solo. Tomorrow, he was going to have to field a bevy of questions about his mysterious fiancée. The whole charade was going to get a whole lot more complicated the next day, no matter how airtight Tristen’s excuses were.
So he might as well let loose with the bikers.
As far as a biker social event went, it was a pretty standard affair. Since the weather was mild, they had all gathered at a local Lyndon park. The bikes were lined up in rows of shimmering metal, and the bikers were mingling around the picnic tables. One of the social heads had taken care of barbecuing burgers and hot dogs, and pretty much everyone had brought snacks or drinks of some sort. Early in the night, the older guard was still around, but Tristen knew from experience that soon the older generation would retire and leave the young crowd to their raucous ways and late nights.
As Tristen grabbed another beer from the cooler, he spotted Kayla Carpenter a few yards away.
“Hey,” he said.
She smiled in greeting and walked over to him.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Tristen said.
Kayla was one of the best bikers in the club, as she should be given it ran in her blood. Both her parents were long-time members. Despite this, she rarely made an appearance at events or rides. She and Tristen were acquaintances through the club, and Tristen liked her because she usually laughed at his dumb jokes.
And the fact that she was gorgeous didn’t hurt. He noted that she was looking especially good in a fitted black jeans that hugged her curves and a leather jacket. Her bright red lipstick was the perfect pop of color.
“I’ve been busy with work,” Kayla said.
“At that accounting firm, right?” Tristen asked.
“Yeah,” Kayla said. “Brentwood.”
“I actually saw a favorable article about Brentwood in a projections report,” Tristen said.
“We’ve been doing well,” Kayla said.
She smiled with obvious pride. Tristen admired how intense she was about her career.
“I guess this makes me the only guy in this biker club to utter the phrase ‘projections report,’” Tristen said.
Kayla tipped back her head and laughed. She had a nice laugh, Tristen mused. It was deep and husky.
“Then congratulations are in order,” Kayla said. “This is a momentous occasion.”
“Thank you, thank you so much,” Tristen said. “I’m overwhelmed.”
He put one hand over his heart and mimed accepting an award. Kayla pressed her fingers to her lips as if to stop the giggles from pouring out.
Yes. Kayla Carpenter definitely had an amazing laugh.
“You here alone tonight?” Tristen asked.
“My parents are around,” Kayla said. “I should probably go find them once I track down something to drink as well, I’m parched.”
“There’s beer over here,” Tristen said.
“Nah, I’m not really a beer person,” Kayla said.
“A biker chick who doesn’t like beer?” Tristen said with an over-dramatic gasp. “How scandalous.”
Kayla burst into another peel of laughter that sent rivers of warmth cascading through Tristen’s stomach. He was ready to tell as many corny jokes as possible, as long as he could keep witnessing the way her nose scrunched up and her dark eyes glimmered when she laughed.
“I know, I’m an eternal disappointment to the biker community,” Kayla said.
She started to move towards the crowd after giving Tristen one last smile.
“Maybe I’ll see you later,” Tristen said.
“Maybe,” Kayla said.
Tristen doubted it. He watched Kayla’s slim figure weave between the other bikers as she made her way towards a table laden with drink options. She made a beeline right for the spiked punch bowl. Not a beer girl, she was going for something stronger.
She wouldn’t stay long at the event though. Kayla never did. She usually left with her parents and the other older members. Kayla was nice and smart and had a great sense of humor, but something was always holding her back from throwing herself into a party.
“Yo, Tristen!”
Tristen turned to see Brady, a fellow biker, along with a few other guys.
“Hey,” Tristen said.
“We’re about to get the bonfire started, wanna help?” Brady asked.
“Sure,” Tristen said.
He spent the next half hour arranging a pile of sticks and logs while Brady cursed over how he couldn’t get anything to catch on fire. The sun hadn’t
even fully set, but Brady liked to get a headstart on the bonfire.
Every few minutes, Tristen kept glancing over at Kayla. She was clutching a cup of punch in her hand and chatting away, and Tristen couldn’t say for certain, but he was pretty sure it had been refilled.
By the time the bonfire was roaring, the older members had all gone, including Kayla’s parents. She was still in a crowd of guys, talking a mile a minute and drinking that punch like it was water.
It was a strange sight. In all the years he had crossed paths with Kayla Carpenter, he had never seen her do anything fun. She didn’t even go on the overnight rides.
And while she was attractive, Tristen had never heard of her ever dating a guy, biker or otherwise. There was no ill-will or tension, but rumor had it she was a bit of a workaholic. A biker chick by blood, but not the biker type when it came down to her personality.
As Tristen watched Kayla stumble a bit and grab onto the arm of the closest biker, a niggling thought pricked the back of his mind.
Did she even know that the punch was spiked? It was a potent blend, perfected over many biker events, and its danger was that the insane amounts of hard alcohol was nearly impossible to detect. The punch mostly just tasted like fruit juice.
Tristen shook his head. He was overthinking things. Everyone knew that punch was spiked. Or at least, everyone who stayed late at a party before knew.
Tristen sighed and turned back towards the fire. Kayla was entitled to let loose. She was an adult. Besides this wasn’t a random bar. This was a tight-knit biker club, and everyone knew Kayla and knew to watch out for their own. She might have to endure a bit of teasing for getting too drunk, but that was it.
For the next few hours, Tristen nursed a few beers and chatted with some old friends. When anyone asked about how work was going, Tristen gave vague answers. He didn’t want to see the looks of judgment if he were to confess to a friend the lengths he had gone to just to get a promotion. Some of the guys might pity him, but most of them would tease him forever if they found out that Tristen had invented a fake fiancée.