Insecurity flares up inside me, but I swallow it back. Hannah and her perky ass walk down the pathway toward the house. Why is she here, anyway? Andrew sighs, and then drags our bags toward the house. Soon, we’re engulfed in the happy chaos of his large family.
The next few minutes are spent with introductions that I struggle to remember just minutes after they’re made. Andrew was right—there are so many nieces and nephews that it’s hard to keep track. Katie and Caitlyn are two little brunette girls of about the same age. Theo and Larry are both infants, and if someone swapped their clothes, I don’t think I’d even notice the switch.
Still, it’s nice to be around everyone. Three pairs of hands grab the bags and set them aside. Drinks are thrust into our hands and there are never-ending hugs and smiles and handshakes to go around. Andrew’s mother glances at him with stars in her eyes.
For a few minutes, I forget that Hannah is here. I’m swallowed up in the intense warmth of Andrew’s family. I see him over a crowd of heads and he smiles at me, shrugging apologetically. I laugh. If only he knew how full my heart feels. He kept warning me about overwhelming chaos, but his family seems so friendly that it fills a hole in my heart that has been there since I was little.
When Hannah appears in front of me with her inspecting eyes, my spine stiffens. The warmth and comfort seep out of my heart like a sieve. I swallow thickly, trying to stand my ground.
“So,” she says slowly, playing with her long black hair with the tips of her fingers. “Did I hear that you managed to snag Andrew as a husband?”
“I wouldn’t call it snagging,” I answer. “But yes, we’re married.”
Suddenly, the tenuousness of our relationship seems so obvious to me. Can she tell that we’ve known each other only a couple weeks? Can she tell that we got married and neither of us really remembers the details? Can she tell that yesterday, we weren’t even sure if we would stay married the full day?
She tosses her long, straight hair behind her shoulder, and I find myself patting down my own slightly frizzy head. Damn this humidity!
“You said your name was Meg?” She asks. I nod. I wish she’d go away. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from Vegas, originally,” I answer. “But I’ve lived in New York for almost ten years now.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. She cocks her hip, placing her manicured hand on it and staring at me. “I spend a lot of time in Vegas for work,” she says. “What’s your last name?”
Alarm bells start ringing in my head, and I don’t know why. I want to lie to her. I want to tell her a false name—but why? Who cares? If I tell her a fake name for no reason, I’m pretty sure that makes me a crazy person. Plus, if this marriage gets out in the news, my name won’t exactly be a secret.
“Ainsworth,” I answer, glancing around for Andrew. I feel like I’m lost at sea without a lifejacket. I need him to get me away from this situation.
“Ainsworth!” She repeats. “Any relation to Bunny and Robert Ainsworth?”
I cringe. The last thing I want is for her to tell my family about me going and getting married to the man that helped me ruin my sister’s wedding.
I manage a nod. “They’re my parents.”
“Well, that is interesting,” she says. “See, when I heard you’d convinced Andrew to marry you, I was afraid that you were some sort of gold digger,” she says with a wave of her hand. “But, I mean, with a name like Ainsworth, I don’t need to worry about that.”
“You seem very concerned with Andrew’s decision to get married.” I hope my eyes aren’t as hard as they feel. Tension is rippling just below the surface of this conversation.
Her smile drops a fraction of an inch and her eyes turn cold. It only lasts a second before the veil of pleasantness is back on her face.
“Well, after seven years together, I could never even manage to get him anywhere near so much as a wedding magazine.” Her laugh is light and false.
Ah, I think. There it is. Seven years together.
I nod. “Maybe it just wasn’t the right time,” I answer through clenched teeth.
“Obviously not.”
She looks as if she’s about to say something else, but Andrew appears beside me. He puts his hand around my waist and it feels like a cool, refreshing breeze. My shoulders relax, and Hannah takes a step back. She swings her eyes from me to Andrew.
“Well, I have another engagement, so I’m going to have to say goodbye,” she says.
“Goodbye,” Andrew answers. He turns to me with concern in his eyes, and then leads me away from her. I resist the temptation to look over my shoulder, but I can feel Hannah’s eyes following us out of the room.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you talking to her until just now. I would have rescued you sooner.”
“Who is she?”
His jaw clenches as his eyes narrow. He shakes his head. “Just an ex-girlfriend,” he answers. “She shouldn’t be here. I’ll talk to my mom.”
I nod, not wanting to push it. The way Hannah was talking, and the way it made Andrew react made it clear that she’s not ‘just’ an ex-girlfriend.
I’ll ask him about it later. With a deep breath, I look down at my wedding ring and feel my heart thump in my chest.
I realize, not for the first time, that I don’t really know anything about Andrew. He squeezes my waist and a wave of comfort passes through me. That touch, that comfort—it means something. It has to! Having such a strong physical reaction to someone doesn’t just happen by chance. We have something. There’s something between us that’s more than just a drunken night in Vegas.
I’ll find out about his exes, and he’ll find out about mine. I haven’t opened up to him about my past yet. Until I do, I can’t expect anything more from him. I just need to give it time, and these awkward encounters won’t happen.
I glance toward the front door and I see Hannah disappear right before it closes. My whole body relaxes into Andrew’s touch, and I shake the stress of that interaction away.
She’s just an ex-girlfriend. I’m his wife. I’ve never been the type to be insecure, and I’m definitely not going to start now.
29
Andrew
After Hannah leaves, I immediately feel more comfortable. I try to ignore the nagging feeling at the base of my skull that something isn’t right. I always get that feeling when Hannah is around, so I just take a deep breath and try to ignore it.
The chaos of the family reunion becomes familiar, and I even find myself enjoying it. What I thought would be a full day of torture turns out to be pretty nice. Glancing through a window at the back of the house, I catch a glimpse of Meghan with a flock of nieces and nephews.
With a few quick words, she organizes them into lines and gets them to start running. The kids laugh and jump as Meghan directs them to play a game that I don’t understand.
Meg laughs, her golden hair like spun gold in the sunlight. Katie, my little seven-year-old niece, plucks a dandelion from the grass and presents it to Meg. I watch Meg crouch down and take the flower before giving Katie a hug. She tucks the dandelion behind her ear and Katie beams.
“She’s lovely, Andrew,” my mother says as she appears beside me. I watch Meg for a few more moments and then I nod.
“She is.”
“When were you going to tell me you were engaged?”
She glances at me with one eyebrow arched. I know that look, and I know I need to tread carefully. My lip tugs at the corner and I find myself grinning as I shrug.
“I thought you liked surprises, Mom.”
My mother’s eyes narrow, and I feel like squirming. This is exactly how I felt when I was a kid and I’d done something wrong. Somehow, Mom can always tell. She stares at me for a few more seconds as sweat starts forming under my arms.
“Well, I would have liked an invitation to the wedding, that’s all.”
“We’ll have a ceremony for everyone next year,” I say, glancing at Meg as she plays with the kids. I’m not entirely
sure if that’s true, but it seems to put my mom’s mind at ease.
“Hey, Mom,” I say as she starts to turn away. “Why did you ask Hannah to come to the reunion?”
Her eyebrows shoot up and she shakes her head. “I thought you’d invited her. That’s why I was so surprised when I saw you with Meghan.”
“She told me she called you and you told her to come along.”
“Well isn’t that strange,” Mom says, tilting her head. “She must miss you.”
“Mmm.”
My uncle Matthew walks up to us and my mother busies herself finding him a drink. I glance back at Meg, and the prickly feeling at the base of my neck returns.
Was Hannah just trying to check up on me? Did she know about Meg?
My thoughts are interrupted when Meghan appears in the doorway. Her hair is mussed and her cheeks are rosy. She grins at me, shaking her head.
“Those kids have so much energy. I don’t know how parents do it!”
“You find ways to wear them out,” Uncle Matt says as he walks toward us. His fresh beer bottle is beading with condensation. “Yesterday, I told Jared and Caitlyn that the first one to do fifty laps of the backyard would win a cheese stick.”
Meg starts laughing, shaking her head. “Did they do it?”
Uncle Matt chuckles. “Caitlyn won by a mile. She doesn’t even like cheese.”
We laugh and Meg threads her fingers through mine. Uncle Matt glances at us. He points his beer bottle between me and Meg.
“You guys want kids?”
“Don’t know—”
“Eventually—”
Meg and I stare at each other and start laughing. Meghan squeezes my hand and then shrugs at Uncle Matt.
“I guess we hadn’t really talked about it.” Matt’s eyebrows shoot up, and Meg continues. “I’d like kids eventually, but…”
She looks at me, her eyes full of questions. I can tell she’s wondering what I want, who I am, what I think… we really don’t know each other at all.
“I’d like to wait a little while—a couple years,” I say. At least I can answer one of her unsaid questions. “But I guess these are things we’ll have to talk about.”
Matt grunts. “Usually people talk about this stuff before they get hitched.” He snorts, shaking his head. “Things sure have changed. How long have you guys been dating, anyways?”
“Long enough,” Meg smiles. “Excuse me.”
Without looking back, she extracts herself from this increasingly difficult conversation and heads for the bathroom. I doubt she had any actual urge to go, but I don’t blame her for running away.
Uncle Matt drops his large palm on my shoulder.
“She seems like a good one,” he says.
“Glad you approve.”
“Now, tell me about next season. You gonna win the Super Bowl this year?”
I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, safe conversation territory.
I grin at my uncle and nod. “That’s the plan. The team has been through a lot these past couple years with our quarterback and all, so I’m looking forward to a more stable team this year.”
Matt sips his beer and nods. “That was all over the news, the whole wedding business—didn’t your QB’s brother marry his ex-fiancée?”
I chuckle. “Yep.”
“Fuck,” he sighs. “That’s rough. No wonder he went off the deep end.”
“Elijah was in bad shape before all that happened,” I say, shaking my head. “Drinking a lot and getting more aggressive. It’s kind of a relief not to have him around anymore.”
Ever since Elijah left the team, everything has been more relaxed. That’s one of the reasons I don’t want to create more tension with an annulment or a messy tabloid headline. As a team, we’re finally recovering. Being the one to mess that up again would kill me.
When Meg reappears in the doorway and smiles at me, my worries ease. When I look at her, I don’t see a messy tabloid headline. I don’t see controversy.
I just see a beautiful woman. I see my wife.
The back door opens and half a dozen kids run inside, flowing around my legs like a stream around tree roots. They head straight to Meg, who scoops one of them up and leads them over toward the living room.
Watching her with them makes my chest stir in a way that I’ve never felt before. What if we did have kids? Would it be possible for this to work out? Could we make a family out of one messy night in Vegas?
Uncle Matt chuckles beside me, slapping me on the back.
“I’ve seen that look before,” he says. “It’s the look of a man who’s head over heels. It’s a good thing she’s already agreed to marry you, because otherwise you’d be in trouble.”
He chuckles, and then turns and heads toward the snack table. I watch him go as my heart start to thump. I glance at Meg again, and I know it’s true.
I’m head over heels. Uncle Matt is wrong about one thing, though: we may be married, but I’m still in trouble.
30
Meghan
When we land in New York, I finally turn my phone back on. Within a few seconds, missed calls and texts start buzzing in. I inhale. Tension ripples through my body as the missed calls continue to pour into my phone.
I flick the screen off and drop my phone back into my bag. I can’t deal with that right now.
Andrew asks me if I want to come over to his place, but I shake my head.
“I have to work tomorrow,” I say, smiling sadly. “I should probably just go home, but I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner?”
“Sounds good,” he smiles.
With one long, lingering kiss, Andrew puts me in a cab and I head home. I lean my head against the headrest and let out a big sigh.
I’m married.
I’m also pretty much disowned from my family all over again, but that’s only a slight change in my social standing with them. Now that the initial shock has worn off, I think of Nadine’s face when the dove pooped on her head and a grin starts spreading across my face.
My purse vibrates, and with a sigh I pull out my phone. Relieved at the name on the screen, I slide the bar to answer it.
“You’re alive!” Naomi exclaims. “I’ve tried texting you a million times!”
“Sorry. I, uh… there was a bit of a mishap at the wedding.”
“Okay…”
I start laughing. “I don’t even know how to begin.”
“What happened?”
“Killer pink doves happened.”
“Killer pink what?”
“Doves. Birds. They tried to include me in the wedding, and my job was to release this flock of doves as my sister made her grand entrance to the reception. It, uh… it didn’t go according to plan. A bird shat on my sister’s head.”
“Oh my God,” Naomi says. “You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
She giggles for a few seconds and then sighs. “You’re lucky you got out of there alive. I’ve met your sister, and she is scary.”
“You’re telling me! They were throwing glasses at us as we were driving out of the venue.”
“No,” Naomi laughs. The tension in my body eases. It feels good to talk to her. I bite my lip when she asks me about the rest of my weekend. She asks me about the family reunion at Andrew’s mom’s house, and I give her a vague answer.
I glance at the ring on my finger. When we landed in New York, Andrew said he’d buy me a nicer diamond, and the reality of the situation started to sink in. I don’t need a nicer diamond. The more I wear this one, the more it feels like it belongs on my finger.
And that in itself scares me.
I open my mouth and try to tell Naomi about the wedding, but the words just won’t come out.
“I’ll tell you everything at work tomorrow, yeah?”
“Sounds good,” she says. “Take care.”
I let out a sigh as I hang up. The cab makes a final turn and I look at my apartment building. I pay the driver and haul my suitcase up to my apartmen
t. When I step inside, I let out a sigh.
I’m home.
After the craziness of the weekend—from the wedding to my wedding to the reunion, it feels good to be here. It’s quiet, and comfortable, and it’s home.
I flop down onto the couch and flick the TV on. There’s an old rom-com on, and I lay my legs across the sofa and get comfortable.
I’m dozing off when my phone dings. Glancing at the screen, I see an email from an address I don’t recognize. I frown as I take a closer look.
SUBJECT: You should know about Andrew Davis’s history
I swipe the screen as my heart starts hammering in my chest. When the email loads, I frown again. The email address is gibberish—it was probably created just to send me this email.
My jaw drops as I start reading.
Andrew Davis is not who you think he is. His whole career is based on a lie. He should never have been able to play college football. He accepted a large sum of money from Gerrard Montague in exchange for him to play football at Penn State. The money came with an agreement to marry his daughter, Hannah Montague.
Andrew was supposed to get to the NFL and marry the Montague girl, and then he would be paid the rest of the money.
By marrying you, he’s destroyed any chance of making good on his arrangement. He’ll be punished and shamed publicly.
I suggest you get out while you can, or else you’ll be caught in the crossfire.
This isn’t just incriminating—it’s damning. If this is true, it means that Andrew never should have been allowed to play college football in the first place. There are strict rules in place for players accepting any monetary compensation to avoid bribery—which is exactly what this was.
The deal to marry Hannah is just weird. Who marries off their daughter like that? Did Hannah know about the deal? Is that why she was so bitter at the family reunion?
I read the email over and over.
How did they get my email? How did they know we were married?
Mr. Right: The Complete Fake Engagement Series Page 46