Fake Fiancé for Christmas

by Emily Bow

  Was that how she thought? No family was ideal. So what if Tyler was exploring Europe next year while working at the corporate office before going to law school. So what if he was handsome. And a billionaire. He had the stupidity to choose a life with Madison. I could only pity him. “You’re kidding me?” I spoke strongly so Bitsie would truly hear me. “That family’s no dream come true. Madison won’t be able to graduate in May like she planned. How selfish is that?”

  “But she gets to be with Tyler.”

  “And he chose her.” I made a goggle-eyed face at Bitsie. “Imagine their life.”

  “Poor Tyler.” Bitsie’s eyes took on a different pain.

  Poor Tyler? Tyler was a fool.

  “And that family. Can you believe them? The mom wants Madison to set those boys up, as if they can’t find a date. And this was Chance’s big day, and the parents go onstage and steal his thunder? Was this really the time to announce Tyler and Madison’s engagement?” I wasn’t faking my annoyance to soothe Bitsie. How thoughtless was his family? “You’re better off without them.”

  Bitsie peeled herself from the wall.

  Okay, good first step. Walk away.

  The hallway was empty ahead of us, but noise filtered in from the ballroom. A cough made me glance backwards. I turned and froze there on the concrete floor. Chance was leaning against a doorway not far from where we had stood.

  I realized I might have been a little loud in my enthusiasm as I dissed our hosts. “We really need to go.”

  Chapter 5.

  How much of my insulting his family had he heard?

  My eyes met his. I wanted to linger, to explain, to I don’t know…but this wasn’t about me. Or even him. I turned back and hurried after Bitsie.

  ***

  The next morning, I awakened to a bright pink flashing light. The repeating blush pink glow served as an “all call” for us to rush down to an impromptu sorority meeting. The rules granted us one hour to shower, put on makeup and our GUM chapter t-shirts, and convene in the meeting room. I had a wary feeling that I knew who had called the meeting. When I was ready, I scooted next door to get Bitsie so we could go down together.

  Bitsie joined me, tying a blush pink bow high on her ponytail. We took the main stairway down.

  “What do you think our light would be like if there were a real emergency? You know like a fire or something?” I was talking nonsense to distract her.

  Bitsie shrugged. “Red.” She was understandably deflated. We took seats in the senior section. The priority area. The other girls filled in the rows according to class.

  Madison stood at the front. She had her hands straight out with a shiny new princess cut pink diamond on her ring finger.

  I sucked in a breath. If the sight stung me, Bitsie had to be gutted.

  Bitsie audibly moaned.

  I slapped her in the arm, both in support and to tell her silently to show some restraint.

  Arabella was sitting on Bitsie’s other side. She arched her dark eyebrows.

  I whispered, “Hangover.” Because the embarrassment of drunken excess was a far more acceptable excuse than explaining that Bitsie has the hots for the groom to be.

  “I know the house has most likely seen the social media. But I wanted to tell you in person.” Madison displayed her ring again, wrist bent, hand high. “Yes. It’s true. I’m engaged. To Tyler Kentwell.”

  There were squeals and two of the girls on the front row jumped up and gave Madison a hug.

  After the room calmed, Madison said, “We have house duties to discuss. First up is Christmas Cookie proceeds. Those will go into our semester fundraising pot. If we take all the money we’ve raised since September, we should be able to host spring formal at the beach.”

  A number of squeals and murmurs met her suggestion.

  I liked that idea. I did, but we did something frivolous with the money every year.

  Valentina raised her hand, and Madison acknowledged her. Valentina rose, bit her lip, and cleared her throat. “What if, instead of a spring-away formal, we bought something incredibly awesome like baseball tickets? We could rotate out who gets to go to each game.” She raised her palms as if to generate enthusiasm for her proposal.

  Zoe, our sportiest sorority sister said, “Second.”

  Madison shrugged and with a confident smile said, “That can be on the ballot. We’ll vote when we know the final fundraising totals.” She wrinkled her nose. “But I’m sure the girls, especially the seniors, would prefer a spectacular blowout formal to remember as they move on to other things in their life. Seems obvious? Right, girls? A ballgown slash bikini beach party blow out?”

  Excited chatter started up.

  I had my own idea that I’d been toying with and yesterday’s convention center ceremony had driven it home for me. I raised my hand.

  “Holly.” Madison acknowledged me without enthusiasm.

  “Let’s network and find someone who knows someone with a beach house. That way we can still party on the sand while directing the money elsewhere. Because I’d like to use the money to cover the dues for several of our members. Like a scholarship they could apply for.”

  Madison shook her head.

  “I second the idea.” Arabella jumped in before Madison could shut down my proposal. “I’ll match whatever funds we move in that direction.”

  Several girls murmured in appreciation.

  “I third it,” Valentina said.

  Madison rolled her eyes. “Valentina. You’re voting against your own idea.”

  Valentina tightened the bow on her high dark ponytail and shrugged. “I’m the broke sister, and Holly’s idea was better.”

  Madison took a deep breath and moved to the wall. She turned a knob and changed the room’s lighting from normal white incandescent to blush pink, our sorority’s signature color.

  The room grew silent.

  “I have a big secret to share with you girls. Sisterhood secrecy required. Freshman, recite what that means.”

  “Reveal the secret. Pack your bags. Sister no more.” They chanted in unison. Sisterhood secrecy under pink light wasn’t called at every meeting, but when the vow was evoked, each sister took the words seriously.

  Madison centered herself in front of us. “My future mother-in-law has tasked me to set up her sons. Some may know them as the billionaire brothers. Though I would never call them that.”

  She had totally called them that all semester.

  Gasps and straightened postures met her announcement.

  Madison strode to our bouquet stand. She cupped the base and leaned her dark head against the fresh pink roses. “Obviously, I said yes.” She straightened from her pose. “There are four of them now that Tyler is taken.” Madison did the bridal bent wrist display again, waving her hand from left to right. “That leaves Easton, Nathan, Chance, and Logan.”

  My mind balked as she said Chance’s name.

  “Baller, manipulator, bad-boy, and Brainiac,” one freshman squealed.

  “A quadrangle of billionaires,” another said.

  One sophomore rose and did the floss dance with extra hip thrusts. “Oh yeah.”

  Madison gave them a reproving expression as if she were in charge of Santa’s naughty list. “As if money matters. But yes, if you must know, they are very well off. Very, very well off. My future mother-in-law, Mrs. Kentwell, has entrusted me with this task. And I feel the job is even more important given the fact that my very own Christmas wedding is just around the corner. Think of the wedding photos. The reception photos. Those images will live on for posterity in the press and on my mantel. My future brothers-in-law are not bringing wanks if we can help them bring GUM girls. My wedding will serve as a permanent reminder of how my sorority sisters either came through and had my back or failed their president her senior year.” Her voice took on a Grinch-like note of doom.

  Tension wound through the room, adding a rough edge to the intrigue.


  My mind rebelled against her plan. My feelings weren’t personal. I mean, sure, I knew Madison wouldn’t pick me to go out with Chance, but that wasn’t what was driving my rejection of Madison’s idea or my pinging oncoming headache. Any girl in here who’d been the recipient of unwelcome matchmaking had to feel the same.

  “Let’s brainstorm.” Madison looked around the room. “Freshmen, sophomores, you may leave us. We’ll let you know if we have events for you to coordinate.”

  “They can date freshmen and sophomores.” One of the spunkier freshmen protested.

  “I will call a separate meeting when you are needed.” Madison turned and focused fully on the seated girls, ignoring the slow walking stragglers who were attempting to hear more.

  “Unfortunately, it’s my responsibility to narrow down the pool. To play favorites, but in a fair way.” Madison didn’t sound reluctant. I already knew I wasn’t her favorite. We’d crossed roses one too many times for that, especially when I’d ran for president last semester against her. “Obviously, no one with an active demerit will be considered.” Madison tilted her head, letting her dark braid brush her shoulder. She tapped her pink index finger against her lips, using her left hand so her diamond twinkled in the light. “Oh, and the newest on the demerit list are Bitsie and Holly. Last night they were working as champagne girls. I don’t even want to know more. I assume this was a temporary gig.”

  Bitsie and I nodded.

  “Right then. I don’t even need other details. So demerit girls.” Madison pulled up a list of names on our smart board. “You are dismissed. For the rest of my sisters who remain in good standing, let us strategize.”

  “I don’t think that’s fair,” Arabella said even though she wasn’t on the demerit list.

  Madison tilted her head at Arabella. “And when you run for sorority chapter president, and you win, then your opinion will matter.”

  Arabella stiffened. “Right. Guess that will be in January instead of May.” She turned to the group. “I announce my candidacy. Love all, trust a few, vote for me,” she said, mangling Shakespeare on purpose.

  “Second,” I said, supporting her.

  “January?” Madison shook her head. Then she paused as if remembering her whole senior year had changed. She frowned and tapped her fingertips against her thigh. “Yes, I suppose that’s right. Though I could argue that I could run the chapter from abroad. Right? But candidacy so noted. But is this really the time to discuss that, Arabella?” Madison shook her head firmly. “No, it is not.”

  Arabella shrugged. “Now is the winter of our discontent.”

  Madison bugged her brown eyes at her. “You know I hate quotes.” Madison clapped. “Okay, ladies, we’ll start with the ABCs.”

  The remaining girls chanted, “Availability. Blowouts. Cleavage.”

  “Exactly. I’ll lead with Regan, Zoe, and Portia. Backups will be Madeline and Ursula. Now let us discuss male weaknesses.”

  Once Bitsie and I were in the foyer, I pointed to the front door. “Breakfast?”

  “Absolutely.” Bitsie headed straight to the coat closet. “I’m dying to get out of here.”

  Yeah, the next month of wedding prep was not going to be Bitsie’s favorite time in the house.

  Bitsie and I reached the sidewalk when our phones beeped with incoming text messages. “The Spot. Tomorrow night. 8PM. Mandatory. We’re celebrating the engagement. Full sister turn out to show your support.”

  Bitsie groaned.

  “Doesn’t her ex still work there?”

  Bitsie perked up. “Maybe she’ll take one look at him and all his dark hotness, and she will end this ridiculous whirlwind engagement.”

  “Sure.” I had to make her face reality. “Who will Madison choose? A guy pouring a beer for a customer waving a five-dollar bill while hustling to stock more cups? Or a billionaire winging her to a European castle on his jet? However will she decide?”

  “Shut up.”

  I grinned.

  ***

  Music boomed through the open bar door. The Spot was one of our favorites because the building was within walking distance of our house and had a fun vibe. Bitsie and I got our hands stamped over twenty-one and went in.

  Dancers packed one corner. The bar was located against the back wall, and the rest of the room held tabletops for drinking and socializing.

  Madison sat in a demure winter white dress at a center table with Tyler by her side.

  A white dress. No judgment. So I knew she had done the bartender on a backroom billiard’s table only last month. She’d bragged about the encounter. But that was before she’d put on a pink princess cut diamond engagement ring.

  I was here being a supportive friend to Bitsie. And as this was a mandatory event, I didn’t need another demerit before the semester’s end.

  I greeted our hosts, tossed back our pink signature lemonade-vodka shot, and joined my friends dancing. Because, despite Madison, this was a group of girls who were really fun.

  A lot of guys from Tyler’s fraternity were here, but I didn’t see his biological brothers, nor would I acknowledge that any disappointment sank through me over that fact.

  I partied with my friends until well after the witching hour. I wanted to get out before the evening morphed into the sloppy, hook up stage, usually about thirty minutes before closeout. Tyler and Madison would be all over each other, and Bitsie didn’t need to see that.

  I couldn’t find Bitsie, so I texted her. “Ready?”

  Bitsie texted back. “Sorry, I left a bit ago. Tyler and Madison linked arms to do shots. Couldn’t take it.” She inserted a vomiting emoji. “I’m back at the house.”

  I grabbed my stuff and edged toward the front door pulling on my navy peacoat.

  Chance Kentwell came through the entrance.

  Chapter 6.

  Chance was coming into The Spot and I was leaving. This was just like the last time, when I saw him in the hallway of the conference center.

  Sort of.

  Heat flushed my face and I didn’t want to go anymore. If I had seen him arriving one minute earlier, I would have stayed. But now I couldn’t, because I was obviously departing. Any girl who turned around at this point gave away her power.

  Chance unwound his green tartan scarf from his neck and wrapped the fabric around his wrist. “Champagne Girl,” he said in a low voice.

  “I prefer Human Candy Cane, if you please.”

  Chance grinned. “It’s Holly, right?”

  “It is. The champagne girl act was a favor for a friend.”

  Chance’s brown bomber jacket set off his broad shoulders; his dark green polo set off his eyes, his dark jeans his long legs. His black boots showed an edgy style. He was all kinds of right. If Tyler was considered blond, boy-band handsome, Chance was dark, silky-haired rock star. “Yeah? What’d your friend think of your champagne spray tactics? Unique way to pour.”

  “Meh. We all have our talents.” I threaded the belt on my peacoat. “I’m headed out.” Ask me to stay. Pretend you heard nothing of me trashing your family. I needed to apologize for that, but I’d proceed carefully in case he hadn’t overheard me… “About the last time I saw you.” I could tell from his face that he knew where I was going with this.

  “So you don’t think my family is ideal?”

  He went there.

  “I’m sure they’re always delightful.” I was sure they weren’t. No one was.

  His Christmas green gaze flicked to the table that held Madison and Tyler. “What do you think of the happy couple?”

  “I’m happy for them.”

  “What do you think of Madison?”

  My eyes widened, and my eyebrows arched. “Madison’s the president of my sorority.” I said nothing more out of sisterhood loyalty. Our chapter had a policy of not trashing each other behind each other’s backs.

  “Okay. What am I walking into tonight? Is she going to listen to my mom�
��s matchmaking demands?”

  He’d overheard that too. My face flushed hard. Blush pink lights flashed through my brain. Sisterhood secrecy. I moved closer. “I need a favor.” I lowered my voice. “If you know about the err…”

  “My mom’s an incessant matchmaker. Give it to me straight.” A playful expression crossed his face, and he gestured to the room. “Are they coming for me one at a time or in groups?”

  “Groups. As if you were a Black Friday sale on prime leather snow boots.” I blew out a breath. “Can you not mention that you heard that from me? It’s a really big deal. You have no idea.” I held up my pinky.

  Chance grinned but hooked my little finger with his, shook them, and nodded. “My first pinky swear at twenty-two. Who knew?”

  I enjoyed the warmth of his fingers but slid mine away and put my gloves on. “It’s important.”

  “I know how to keep a promise.” Beautiful words from a guy.

  “Do you?” I arched my eyebrows. “I mean, this was your first pinky swear and all.”

  Chance pushed his dark hair back. The tousled strands gave him just enough of a bedhead look to send my mind to silken sheets and pillows. “I’m currently not promised, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I wasn’t. I guess I was making a judgment call based on a few bad boy rumors I’d heard. Of course, he was single. His mama had tasked our sorority president with setting him up. When my sorority house got a goal in their minds, they succeeded. “They’ll have you engaged by New Year’s.”

  Chance jerked back and shook his head with the appalled fear of a commitment-phobe.

  “My mom’s a matchmaker too. But she doesn’t want me married at twenty-one. Do you need taming that badly?” Bad habits flickered through my mind. “What is it? Are you skipping class?” He had transferred schools. “Did you show up at your brother’s engagement bar celebration late?” I indicated the room. “Oh, yeah, you did that one.”