Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series

by Lilian Monroe

  But this—my brother, Farrah—this is more than a drunken night, or the typical controversies that come out about the team. This could be a big story. And it would be bad for the entire organization.

  We’re ushered into an office at the back of the building. There’s an oval conference table with old, rickety office chairs around it. I gingerly take a seat. You never trust a rickety chair when you’re six foot four and made of muscle. It creaks under my weight, but it seems to hold.

  When a tall brunette woman walks in, Williams stands. He kisses her cheek and introduces us. The woman is wearing thick-framed glasses and her hair is tied in a no-nonsense ponytail. She looks at me with a discerning eye, and then waves us to sit.

  “So,” she starts. “I’m assuming you’ve seen the photos?”

  I nod. “It’s not what you think. The story you have—none of it is true.” I stop talking when a man walks past the conference room doorway. “Who’s that?”

  I recognize him. I frown, staring after the man as he turns into a corner office. His greying hair, his barrel chest, the way his eyes sweep around the room. Where do I know him from?

  “That? That’s Thomas Harding, the group CEO. He owns half the newspapers in the North Eastern United States. He’s visiting the offices this week.”

  My eyes widen. I know who he is—Farrah saved his life last night! He was the choking man. I jump up, rushing to the door and ripping it open.

  “I need to talk to him,” I say. “He can help me.”

  “Wait, Jesse—” the woman jumps up, but I ignore her. “You can’t just—”

  I don’t hear another word over the rushing of my heartbeat in my ears. I march straight to the office I pull open the door.

  “Mr. Harding,” I start. “My name is Jesse Matthews.”

  33

  Farrah

  “I don’t know what to do, Rach,” I say as I sip my coffee. “Jesse just ran off to go to football. I don’t know how Elijah got a hold of my address. I don’t know if he’s watching me. I don’t… I just don’t know what to do.”

  “Calm down,” Rachael says. “Come on, just calm down. We’ll figure it out. Record everything—phone calls, this visit, texts—we might be able to get a restraining order against Elijah.”

  My eyes fill with tears. That seems so extreme. “Imagine if I showed up to Christmas dinner on Jesse’s arm this year instead of Elijah’s, and I took out a restraining order. I would tear their family apart, Rachael,” I say, shaking my head. “I can’t do that.”

  “Stop blaming yourself. Elijah is the one who cheated. He’s the one who ruined your relationship. He’s the one who’s stalking you, or whatever. He’s the one who punched Jesse, and he’s the one who is in the wrong. Not you.”

  I take a deep breath, nodding.

  A waitress drops a plate of eggs in front of me and I smile in thanks. I grab my fork and stab at the food, but I can’t eat. I’ve got no appetite.

  Rachael notices. She tucks into her food and nods to me. “Eat.”

  I sigh, scooping a forkful of scrambled eggs into my mouth and chewing. Food just doesn’t taste good when your whole body feels like a big ball of nerves.

  I jump when my phone rings.

  “Jesse?” I answer. Rachael’s eyebrows rise. She stops chewing, leaning forward over the table.

  “Farrah,” he sounds breathless. “Where are you? Can you come to the Globe’s offices?”

  “The newspaper?”

  “Yes, yes. Look, we have a bit of a situation, but I think we can fix it.”

  “A situation? What do you mean?”

  Jesse sighs. I can hear some shuffling behind him, and then he starts talking again. “I didn’t want to explain everything over the phone, but Coach Williams got a call this morning from his contact at the newspaper. They told him they had a story about me, and you, and Elijah. They had pictures—and Farrah, none of it is true. Or it’s skewed. But I think we can make it right. Will you just come here, please?”

  “Okay, okay, yes. I’ll come. I’m not too far, I should be there in 15 minutes.”

  I hang up the phone and look at Rachael. “I gotta go.”

  “You’re not leaving me here on my own after a phone call like that,” she grins. “I’m coming.” She shovels a bit more food in her mouth and then drops some money on the table.

  I grin. “Thanks. Let’s go.” Mr. Moose is tied to his leash outside. I unhook him and head to the Globe offices.

  We make it to the offices in just over ten minutes. As soon as we walk in, Jesse comes forward at takes my hand. He glances at Rachael, and his eyebrows go up.

  “Hey, Rach,” he says. He looks at my feet. “You brought the dog, too?”

  “I was out,” I grin. “I came straight here.”

  Jesse shrugs. “Alright.” He nods to the offices at the back of the room. “In here.”

  I can see the whites of his eyes and I know he’s nervous. He squeezes my hand and whispers in my ear. “Thanks for coming.”

  When we walk in to the office, my eyes widen. “I.. you!” I say. “Are you okay?”

  The man behind the desk grins. He stands up and extends his hand. “Thomas Harding,” he says. “And yes, thanks to you, I’m great. I’m alive.”

  I blush. He waves at us to sit down. Moose jumps onto my lap and I nod to Coach Williams. I’ve only seen him from afar, and he looks at me with sharp eyes. Now I understand why Jesse left right away when he called. I wouldn’t want to keep a man like that waiting, either.

  My eyes swing back to Mr. Harding. I gulp.

  “So… Jesse told me there were photos?”

  Coach Williams hands me a stack of paper, and my cheeks redden when I see the photos. Jesse explains to me the story that Elijah told, and the anger blooms in my chest.

  “What! None of that is true! You have to believe us!” I turn to Mr. Harding, and he nods.

  “I do believe you. And I want to help you.”

  I open my mouth and then close it again. I nod. “You do?”

  “I do. I was kicking myself last night for leaving without learning your name. I called the restaurant this morning, but they wouldn’t tell me who you were. I guess an NFL player’s privacy is more important than a wrinkly old media mogul,” he grins.

  “You’re not wrinkly,” I blurt out, and Mr. Harding laughs.

  “Well, now that you’re here, I wanted to thank you properly. You saved my life yesterday, and I was able to walk home with my wife like any other night. I can make this go away.” He waves his hand at the photos. “But I want something from you.”

  I frown. This doesn’t sound good. What could this man—who’s obviously rich, and powerful, and connected—what could he want from me?

  I gulp, and nod. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  “I want you to convince this man,” he points to Jesse, “to retire after this season, so he can take his Football School nation-wide.”

  “What?” Both Jesse and I speak at the same time. Mr. Harding starts laughing.

  He nods. “I heard about the project when I was down in New York. I checked out the facility yesterday, and I think it’s a fantastic idea. I meant to get in touch with you next week to offer you my support, and to propose a partnership.”

  My eyes widen and I glance at Jesse. He looks at me, and then at Williams, and finally back at Harding.

  “You’re asking me to retire?”

  “I’m asking you to expand your company. I think we could build one of these in each major city in the United States. And with your face on them, they would take off. But I’d need your full commitment.”

  “We don’t even know how the school will do this year,” Jesse says quietly. “It just opened.”

  “It’s fully booked with a waiting list, no?”

  Jesse nods. He glances at me again, and I slide my hand over his thigh.

  “Think about it.” Harding nods. “I’ll make this story go away as a show of goodwill. I’ll be in touch in a few weeks
.”

  And with that, we walk out the door. We’re dazed. Even Coach Williams looks shocked, and Moose is quiet. Coach Williams shakes his head when we get outside.

  “We’d weather the storm, if this story broke, Jesse,” he says. “I know you’ve been thinking about retiring, but no one should force you into it.”

  “He’s not forcing me,” Jesse says. “He’s offering me an opportunity. And plus, if he could make this story go away, it would mean that Farrah’s name didn’t get dragged through the mud.”

  My heart skips a beat. Jesse would give up the last years of his career for me? I shake my head.

  “Don’t worry about me, Jesse. You need to weigh your options for the future without thinking about me.”

  He chuckles, shaking his head. “When are you going to understand that thinking about my future without thinking about you is impossible? You are my future, Farrah.”

  My knees turn to jelly, and my heart melts in my chest. Jesse catches me in his arms and crushes his lips to mine.

  In that moment, in that kiss, I finally understand that he truly loves me.

  34

  Jesse

  True to his word, Harding makes the story go away. I don’t hear anything more about it. In fact, a couple weeks later, I get a phone call from him. It’s Tuesday morning, and I’m laying on the couch after a particularly physical game last night.

  His phone call isn’t about the Football School or the investment, it’s about my brother.

  “I had an interesting video slide across my desk today, Mr. Matthews,” he says when I pick up. My heart starts thumping. “It’s your brother getting in a fairly violent, drunken fight at a bar last night.”

  I sigh.

  Harding goes on: “One word from you, and this will be plastered on all the major news outlets. Show him that you’re not one to be fucked with.”

  I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t want to do that to my brother.”

  “Even after what he tried to do to you?”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I can’t do that to family.”

  Harding starts chuckling, and I wonder if that was a test. “You’re a good man, Jesse. Have you given any more thought to what we talked about?”

  “I need more time,” I tell him, and then we say our goodbyes and hang up the phone.

  I stare at the screen for a few moments. I don’t know what to do. I know that I have another season or two in me. And the team is in top shape—we could even win another Super Bowl!

  But… then what?

  I groan as I get off the couch. Every bone in my body aches. I’m definitely not recovering like I used to. Farrah is at work, and I’m in my house on my own, again.

  How much longer can I live like this? And there’s always the threat that Elijah will take his bullshit story to the press somewhere else. If I was retired, the story wouldn’t have nearly as much weight and Farrah would be safe from scrutiny.

  Plus, my Football School could go nation-wide! I’ve thought of that many, many times over the past couple weeks. Maybe it’s time to just hang up the helmet and move on?

  Farrah comes over to my place in the evening, and we cook dinner together. These are my favorite times with her, when it’s just her and me, living our life like normal people. There’s no football, or jealous exes, or anything except her smile and our love.

  “You’re very quiet today,” she says as we wash our plates. I get a dish towel out and start drying. I sigh.

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s going on?” She looks over at me, and her sharp eyes aren’t missing anything. I put a plate away, and I can still feel her eyes on me.

  Finally, I look at her. “I’m going to take Harding’s deal. I’m going to retire at the end of this season.”

  Her eyes widen. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Yep. My body can’t take this kind of damage anymore. And plus, I have an opportunity to make a real difference with the school. It would be on a scale that I never even could have imagined.”

  Farrah’s eyes gleam. “So, this has nothing to do with me? With Elijah and all that?”

  I shake my head, and then wrap my arms around her waist. Her hands are still wet from the dishes, but I don’t care. I touch my nose to hers and smile.

  “It has nothing to do with Elijah, and everything to do with you. I want to have time for you, to build a life together. I want to move on from my time in the NFL and do good things. You’ve shown me that there’s more to life than just football.”

  “Well, technically, your life will still be all about football,” she laughs.

  “You know what I mean, smart ass.”

  She laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck. “I know what you mean. And I’m proud of you.”

  And with that, it’s decided. I’ll retire at the end of the season, and I’ll partner with Harding to expand the Football School on a scale I could have only dreamed of. Farrah’s support means more than I could possibly say. It feels almost like a relief—like I’ve been dragging out the idea of retiring, but now I have something to retire for. I have a life beyond the NFL, and I have something to look forward to.

  I put my heart and soul into my last season. I tell Coach Williams right away, and a couple weeks later I tell Jordan, Rigley, and Boots. They understand. Jordan grins and shakes my hand.

  “Congrats, old boy. Exciting times ahead. When are you going to marry that woman?”

  “Soon, I hope,” I say. He grins, and I nod. I hadn’t realized it until he said it, but it’s true. I’m going to marry Farrah.

  Halfway through the season, Elijah is caught in a string of scandals. Drugs, alcohol, prostitutes—it gets ugly. I don’t follow the news too closely, because I don’t want to see his spiral. I try to call him, but he doesn’t answer. He’s suspended for the rest of the season and fined heavily for his infractions.

  I want to help him, but I don’t know how. Part of me thinks he doesn’t deserve my help for how he treated Farrah, and what he did to me.

  Still, this isn’t how I wanted it to end. Maybe I was naive to think that we’d be a big happy family together. That was never in the cards for us.

  By the time Christmas rolls around again, my parents invite us to the cabin-mansion. Elijah opts not to come, so Farrah and I make our way there. Farrah is nervous.

  “Don’t worry,” I say as we drive to the cabin. “They already know we’re together. They’re fine about it.”

  “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s just awkward to go from one brother to the other.”

  “If anyone has a problem with it, I’ll just punch them in the face and break a lamp over their head.”

  That makes her laugh, and she relaxes. She puts her hand on my thigh and chuckles. “Even though I’m nervous, this drive is a lot more pleasant than it was last year.”

  “What happened last year?”

  She smiles sadly at me, and shakes her head. “You’re just a much better driver than Elijah is. Better than him in every way.”

  Mom and Dad welcome her with open arms. I know that they love her, and they were sad to see her and Elijah break up. Dad raises his eyebrow at me.

  “Stealing your brother’s woman is not what I meant when I said you should find someone like her.”

  “I was not his brother’s ‘woman’,” Farrah interjects. “I’m not some helpless damsel in distress who needs a man to save me.”

  My father grins, and nods. “No, I guess you aren’t. Glad to have you back here.”

  Mom leans in toward Farrah. “I always thought the two of you would make a better couple. Don’t tell Elijah I said that.”

  My eyebrows shoot up and Mom just shrugs. Maria appears and wraps me in a big hug in the living room.

  “Congratulations, Jesse,” she says. Then she hugs Farrah, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe we are one big happy family, after all.

  There’s a bit of awkwardness, but that’s to be expected. There’s no going back when you start dating your b
rother’s ex-fiancée. But all in all, I think when they see Farrah and I together, they get it. They see how I feel about her, and how she feels about me. No one can deny the depth of our love, and so everything else just becomes irrelevant.

  It’s her, and me, until the end.

  Epilogue

  Farrah

  Five years later…

  The applause is thunderous. I’ve been to many, many ribbon cutting ceremonies for new Matthews Football Schools over the years, but it never fails to give me chills.

  This one is particularly special. We’ve upgraded the Boston facility and found a new place that can accommodate double the students. The scholarship program has grown as well, and there are so many happy faces in the audience.

  Jesse puts his arm around me and kisses the side of my face. He squeezes me, then looks deep in my eyes.

  “Couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, touching his nose to mine.

  “I know,” I grin.

  He laughs and kisses me. A shiver of warmth spreads through my stomach, as it always does when Jesse brushes his lips against mine.

  Now, I work full-time for the Football School. I left Angel Investments after three great years, and moved on to be the Chief Financial Officer for the Football Schools. It was a natural step for me, and I’m proud to be part of the organization.

  It helps to be able to be close to Jesse all day, as well. We didn’t see much of each other when I worked at Angel Investments.

  He takes me by the hand and leads me to the edge of the field. With his arm around me, we watch the kids practice. There’s so much laughter and joy in the air. A few parents come shake our hands. I steal a glance at Jesse and have to smile.