by Ryan, Emma
I’d given Walker time, had hoped he would make his way back to me. That he’d at least call me so we could end things properly, if that was how it had to be. But weeks had turned to months of unread texts and unreturned calls. The last voicemail he’d left me was a ‘Sorry. I have to focus on work.’
It had hurt. He’d broken my heart and wounded my pride, leaving me to wonder if any of what we’d had was truly real. I mean, I’d gotten over it—or so I’d thought. It stung more than it should’ve to watch him sitting across from me suggesting marriage to get out of a loophole. I almost told him no. It was one thing to reconnect as friends, another thing entirely to have a shoddy, impersonal marriage proposal thrown my way.
I’m saying this would be a huge favor to me, and I would be willing to pay you for helping me…
Eviction loomed over me like a guillotine ready to sever my damn head. I had maybe a few hundred dollars to my name in cash, another thousand or so in savings. Not enough to keep me afloat in New York City on the fly. Maybe, on some level, this was Walker’s way of apologizing to me after all this time, and it was something that would benefit me more than hurt me.
Or maybe I just saw this as a way to get some kind of weird, convoluted closure for a break-up I should have gotten over a long time ago.
Either way, when I opened my mouth the words just tumbled out.
“Alright. Let’s get married.”
* * *
Alone in my apartment after lunch with Walker, I flopped down on the bed, staring up at my ceiling. I couldn’t possibly call Mom and Dad and tell them I was getting married. There would be way too many questions, and I wouldn’t be able to lie to them. They’d probably understand the situation, but there was something about pulling them into the strange little web of weirdness I’d gotten myself stuck in that felt insidious—even if it was something that involved Walker. They had liked him a lot, at one point. After he’d moved and ghosted me, their love for him faded as they cleaned up the emotional mess he’d left behind.
No… I wouldn’t get my parents involved in this, but I needed to call someone. I pulled my phone from my pocket and swiped across the screen, tapping my number one contact.
Alexander picked up after three rings.
“Hey there; what’s up, Big Mac?”
I rolled my eyes. Of all the nicknames to land, that one was easily the most regrettable. It had survived several college semesters with Alex, who was arguably my best friend at this point in my life. He was my advice column, art critic, and brother from another mother, all wrapped up into one. There was no one else quite like Alex in the entire world.
“Hey, Alex. I have some… ah, life updates.”
“Oh, really now? Spill.”
I told him about yesterday at the office first, starting with my shock at seeing Walker and my subsequent bodily attack on my cleaning cart. When I moved on to my ex asking me out to lunch, Alex interrupted.
“Walker? As in, that handsome hunk of man you talked about all through college—”
“I did not talk about him that much,” I protested.
“You did. Until you didn’t, that was. I thought he ghosted you in high school?”
“He did.” I frowned, rolling onto my stomach. “He did. But…”
“But?” Alex prompted.
“But, well… Things are… different now.”
“Different, how?”
Should I tell him the full story? Or gloss over it and hope he didn’t notice the ring on my left hand next time he saw me? If I wasn’t going to tell my parents, would I be able to keep the whole thing to myself?
Nope. Hell no.
“Different in that I need help, and so does he. I’m getting evicted, and he’s trying to claim his inheritance.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“I might be an idiot, but I’m totally not following how these two things are related. But wait—you’re getting evicted? Macken—”
“I’m marrying him,” I blurted out. “I’m marrying him so he can get his inheritance. It’s some weird-ass stipulation his father put in his will. Walker can’t claim controlling share of the company without being married. Once it’s all signed over to him, we get a divorce, I get a cushy settlement…”
I trailed off, running out of steam and needing some kind of feedback from my best friend.
Alex said nothing. I bit my lip, worrying it between my teeth. After saying all this out loud, it was starting to sound a lot more nuts than it had when I’d rationalized it in the café.
Maybe Alex was about to tell me that. To tell me I was making the biggest mistake of my life, that I needed to take it back, that this was wrong—
“Wow, honey,” he said with a laugh. “That is… damn! Are you doing this ’cause I told you my favorite soap is getting canceled? Because you know I can’t wait to see how this turns out.”
4
Walker
“All right. I gotta ask one more time. You’re totally sure you want to do this? Perpetual monogamy? Marriage for workaholic Walker Prince?”
Grant and I sat in my BMW, just outside the run-down apartment complex where Mackenzie lived. It was about a half hour before the ceremony—if that was even the right word for what was about to happen.
When I’d called Grant two weeks ago to tell him about seeing Mackenzie—and then, subsequently asking her to marry me, and her saying yes—he’d been amused beyond belief and hadn’t shut up since. Knowing the ins and outs of our ‘marriage,’ that it was predominantly for show, one would think this fuckhead would have something better to do than relentlessly give me shit about the fact that it was happening. But that would be giving Grant way too much damn credit.
“Maybe you’re not doing it just because you want your inheritance, hmm?” he suggested, his smug grin mocking me.
“It’s just a friend thing. A favor. Between friends,” I finally answered, strumming my fingers against the steering wheel to the low beat of music playing through the speakers.
“Does she know that?”
“She only agreed once I explained the details. Once I told her it wouldn’t be anything more than a business arrangement.”
“Hm. And do you know that?”
I cut a look to him, making him laugh as he pulled out a cigar and started to smoke. At least he gave my window a courtesy roll down. Of course I knew there was nothing romantic about the situation but I hadn’t been able to shake the too-warm feeling in my gut since Mackenzie told me she’d help me out with this.
It had stayed with me even as Mackenzie and I had finished out our lunch, bubbled and boiled low as we set in motion the process of moving her things to my place.
This was really fucking happening.
The movers would pack up the contents of her apartment and cart everything across the city while we were at the courthouse. Over the past few days, I’d told a few people at the company about my impending nuptials, usually to the tune of “No way!” and “I didn’t even know you were dating!”
Let’s just say that my history of keeping my personal life separate from my professional life had served me well in this situation. No one was incredibly shocked to hear that I’d been dating someone in secret for months.
“Yes. I know what this is about,” I said, shaking myself out of my thoughts. “Don’t worry about it—or me.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see how long that lasts when all is said and done. And—speak of the devil.” Grant whistled, peering out the window. “Damn. Okay, I’m officially jealous. MacKenzie cleans up nice…”
My eyes followed the trail of Grant’s gaze. The breath left my lungs in an astonished gasp as I saw Mackenzie descend the stairs, leaving her apartment for the last time for the next few months. She was all in white, a dress that hugged her bodice, followed the gentle curve of her waist, and flared out at the bottom just above her knees. She wasn’t in heels, but the little white flats she wore were so perfectly her that it didn’t really matter
to me either way.
What got me most, however, was her face. Subtle makeup let her beauty shine through and was just ever so slightly enhanced with a dark, thin liner and deep red lipstick. Her hair was curled, falling down in springy coils at her shoulders.
“You’re staring, lover-boy,” Grant teased before he got out of the car and wrapped her in a tight hug. “MacKenzie! It’s been way too damn long. You look beautiful. Damn, Walker doesn’t deserve to have you as his bride. I hope you remind him of that—often.”
Mackenzie’s laugh tinkled in the air; I could have sworn it was fucking music.
“Oh, I’m sure Walker already knows that,” she teased right back. I saw her peer over Grant’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling. My heart stopped again, and it was only by some miracle that I managed to pull myself from my stupor and get out of the car to join Grant and Macks. They pulled apart and Mackenzie stood back, gesturing to her dress.
“I know it’s not much,” she said sheepishly. “But I figured the white was a good touch. Right?”
“No… no, it’s good,” I said. “Really good. You look beautiful.”
Her face instantly colored, her gaze averted, and had I not seen the tiniest smirk peeking out, I’d have thought she was properly embarrassed.
“Thanks… I’m glad you like it.”
Before I could say something else that I’d probably regret, Grant tossed his arms around our shoulders. “Come on, kiddies,” he said, giving me one of his goofy, mischievous smirks. “We have some trouble to make.”
He wouldn’t let me drive, insisting that I get in the back with Mackenzie since we were the ‘two blushing love birds.’ I gave him a stern raised brow; the fucker had no damn tact, whatsoever.
Still, I slid into the back with Macks as Grant got into the front. We pulled out, and the two of them made small talk. Grant started bragging about a film role he’d recently landed, a part he was certain would finally earn him some respect as a serious actor. I was grateful that, aside from an occasional affirmation, I didn’t really have to pay attention to them.
Which was good. Because I couldn’t keep my focus off Mackenzie. I didn’t stare—no, that would be too out of line, even for me. But I could feel her heat almost too close to me. Every inhale brought the scent of the same fruity perfume she’d worn that day in the office into my nostrils. Each little laugh poured into my ears, its melodious tune imprinting on my brain.
It’s just a conditional marriage. A sham, I reminded myself. There’s no need to get in your head about it.
I caught sight of Mackenzie out of the corner of my eyes, her eyes twinkling as she grinned at something Grant said.
Shit.
Was it possible to start falling in love all over again?
5
Mackenzie
My mom and dad used to talk about how wonderful their wedding day had been. They’d gotten married in their church, with a small congregation of family and friends… and a tiny little me growing inside my mom. They were hardly conventional—but then again, this union of mine was the literal definition of unconventional.
Riding in the car with Walker and Grant—who’d volunteered to be our required witness—felt like the good old days again. Our old friend chattered away about himself at a pace and frequency that may have been concerning had it not been Grant; he’d always been charmingly self-indulgent.
It was a good distraction, which I absolutely needed. Try as I might to ignore it, I was way too aware of Walker sitting beside me. I’d gone a modest nine yards to put together a white outfit to make this look authentic, but Walker had reacted in a way I hadn’t expected. Damn near slack-jawed and wide-eyed.
Had my own expression mimicked his when I saw him get out of the car? He looked too good in the perfectly tailored coal-black suit, his copper hair slicked back. He was breathtakingly handsome, and I cursed myself for being so taken with how he looked. I was distracted in the confines of the car where the scent of his expensive aftershave filled my senses.
I glanced to the side quickly, hoping one more peek would go unnoticed. His hand rested in the space between us as his long, strong fingers—which could belong to a pianist if I didn’t know Walker hated playing piano and was far more fond of sax—strummed against the leather.
“All right, we’re here!” Grant called, pulling me from my reverie.
Drawing in a deep breath, I reminded myself why I was doing this—I needed the money and a roof over my head.
And maybe this whole strange ordeal would give me some kind of closure with Walker, who’d lived up to his name in the worst way by literally walking out of my life all those years ago.
Getting out of the car, I straightened out my dress and tried to will away the flutter in my stomach. Was it nerves? Excitement? I couldn’t tell, but the feeling settled as soon as Walker took my hand and looked down to me.
“Let’s do this,” he said. His smile was wide and reassuring, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.
“Let’s.”
We took the stairs leading up to the courthouse with a confident stride that was only interrupted with a stumble up them as I tripped over my own feet.
“Bag of dicks! I’m not even wearing heels—”
“Little eager there, are you?” Grant teased as Walker held me steady. “Better watch out Walker, she might be a keeper.”
Grant winked at us as he bounded up the stairs. I shook my head and looked to Walker. He grinned and squeezed my hand.
“We’ve got this.”
The inside of the courthouse was as close to what I would call regal as a boring old courthouse could get. Everything was mahogany and gold trimmed, with red and deep navy-blue carpets and drapes. It was impressive, but it was still a far cry from the stained glass lined walls of a wedding chapel that I’d had in my head as a teen. There was no organ playing as we were led politely into the modest room where we would exchange vows—and rings. Walker had ordered a set after asking me my size.
It was all very, very romantic. Sarcasm alert.
Our officiant was a stout woman with greying hair and a kind face. Her bright smile took me by surprise, since I’d expected judgement. After all, the stereotype was that the only people who’d have a shotgun wedding at a courthouse were the ones that were ‘in trouble.’
But Walker and I weren’t ‘in trouble.’ Not in the traditional sense, anyway.
We took our places opposite each other, hands outstretched over a small centerpiece that stood between us. It was something of a blur for me, as the officiant spoke about love, about lifelong commitment, about the joy of giving yourself completely to another person. It was elaborate, for a courthouse wedding.
And then… it was time for the vows.
I hadn’t prepared any, because I didn’t think I’d have to say anything. I didn’t know if the officiant caught my panic or not, but Walker squeezed my hands in his and gave me a reassuring look.
My gaze met his, and my nerves settled enough for me to unlock my jaw. I wasn’t a writer, so I knew that my ‘vows’ wouldn’t be all that great. But what did come out was short, natural, and so very reminiscent of us.
“I remember when you took me to the pier for the first time,” I said. “You got me a Nathan’s, and the most romantic thing about that day was how you cleaned all the mustard off my face that you had smeared there, claiming you were making a painting out of me.” I smiled. “I knew then that I loved you. It was the first time I realized I could only see my future with you in it. No other guy could make mustard seem romantic. Cheesy, but romantic.”
Walker laughed. “Cheesy was the chili cheese dogs you wouldn’t eat…”
The officiant smiled between us, turning to Walker. It was his turn for vows. I braced myself, not quite sure what to expect. Would he be stiff and formal, the buttoned-up version of Walker Prince that he’d grown into? Or would he make something up just to get the officiant to move on?
But when he spoke, my breath seemed to hang in my
lungs as my heart thudded hard in my chest.
“I loved you from the first moment I saw you,” he said. “Hunched over a sketch book, scribbling away—but to hear you tell it, they weren’t scribbles. I could never get the difference between sketches and scribbles down. I just knew that whatever they were, I liked yours. I wanted more. I wanted to see what else you could come up with. It was more captivating than anything I’d ever seen in my life… I can honestly say no one’s ever captured my mind and heart the way you have, Macks.”
Fake. It’s all fake, I told myself as I struggled to make my lungs function again. Of course, he was just saying that to make the wedding real in the eyes of the law.
The thing was, where was the line in authenticity? Where were we supposed to draw it?
Because one moment, I was staring into those impossibly gorgeous, sky-blue eyes of Walker’s, and the next, my eyes closed as my lips pressed against his. I felt his solidness against my body, his frame stiff at first with shock before his arms wound around my frame and pulled me tight against him.
Had I started this? Had he? Who had closed the distance between us?
Our lips parted, his tongue greeting mine as the kiss deepened.
I didn’t think I’d ever been kissed like that before in my life.
6
Walker
Her taste was perfect, like strawberries and cream and a dream I hadn’t had in years. Mackenzie’s mouth molded to mine like there wasn’t nearly a decade between this moment and our last kiss. She felt like she belonged in my arms, like—
A wolf whistle pulled me to my senses.
I stepped back, blinking dazedly, as Grant whistled again. The cocksucker was having the time of his damn life, but at least his teasing had brought me back to my senses. That kiss had been too much for a fake wedding—and it was fake, no matter how legal the documents were.