Big Bad Fake Groom: A Billionaire's Virgin Romance

by Tia Siren

  We left the hotel an hour too early and stopped at the hospital to check on Bill. He refused to see me, but the doctors assured me he was fine—or as fine as one could be in his situation. Just to be safe, Jesse tipped the nurse a fifty-dollar bill to make sure the radio was on the right station and within Bill’s hearing when our broadcast started.

  I really, really hoped he would listen. Being in peace with him would undoubtedly relief some of the stress I was feeling, which was a good thing since I was a bit nervous about the effects it would have on the baby. I prayed that, once the broadcast was over, we would finally find some peace in our lives so I could focus on what I knew I was meant to do: have Jesse’s child.

  As the car parked in front of the radio station, I gulped and reapplied my lipstick for what was probably the eightieth time. I licked my lips when I was nervous, so after only a few minutes, it was like I had not been wearing any at all.

  Jesse sensed my growing frenzy and soothed me with a kiss on the cheek. “It’ll be okay,” he promised, his forehead touching mine. “It’ll all be okay.”

  My God, I love him, I thought. Here he was, giving me strength when his head was the one going up to the chopping block.

  Strangely enough, I found great comfort in that thought.

  “It’s time,” he announced at last. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “And Jess? Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  He gave me a quick peck on the lips and got out of the car. The radio station was crowded when we arrived. Apparently, everyone who worked there, and their families, wanted an opportunity to meet Jesse Valen. I was glad we had taken the time to dress well since before we were ten feet through the front door and into the atrium, at least three little kids rushed up to us with their cell phones and began taking pictures.

  Crazy as it may sound, I, at the moment, felt like a movie star.

  After a couple minutes of pure madness, the broadcaster appeared. He was a big, genial guy who looked like John Goodman in blue jeans and a football jersey—a Jets jersey, of course. He parted the crowd, hollering good-naturedly at everyone, and then ushered us into a smaller, more private room.

  “Hello, hello! I’m Tom Liyfest, your interviewer for today.” He shook our hands vigorously. “And you’re Jesse Valen, of course. Everyone knows who you are.” The man beamed at Jesse and then turned, slightly confused, toward me. “And you…?”

  “My moral support,” Jesse interjected. “Please, Mr. Liyfest—”

  “Oh, Jesse. Call me, Tom.”

  “Okay, Tom. This is Mary, my girlfriend. I would prefer that she be in there with me when I give the interview. Is that okay?”

  The broadcaster laughed and clapped Jesse on the back. “Of course. Of course! Anything you say, my boy. Should I hook her up, too? Is she speaking?”

  Jesse looked at me, and I shook my head in a vigorous “no.” Now that the moment was finally upon us, my nervousness consumed me. It threatened to claw its way up through my stomach and into my throat, choking me like a solid mass.

  On the other hand, Jesse seemed entirely at ease—much more so than he had been in the hotel room. I wondered if this was what he was like during football games: nervous up until the whistle blew, and then flawless.

  Tom led us inside his sound studio. There were microphones everywhere, surrounded by several long, comfortable couches so that whoever was being interviewed could sit comfortably. My heart lightened at the knowledge that I would be able to sit with Jesse and hold his hand.

  Again, even in this terrifying moment for him, he still had strength enough to spare for me.

  When Tom wasn’t looking, I snuck him the quickest of kisses. Jesse squeezed my hand, and we sat. Some technician adjusted the microphone so that it was positioned directly in front of his lips. Every word of his, every breath, would be heard.

  I inhaled and exhaled deeply. Here it goes…

  “You ready?” Tom whispered, giving us the thumbs up. “Three…two…one…and live!”

  A little red light flicked on just above the microphone as the rest of the lamps in the room dimmed. We were alone. Alone with our voices.

  “Good morning, good morning, good morning everyone! This is Tom Liyfest, bringing you the latest news and local gossip on Star 93.8, New York’s number one talk show station. Today we have a very special guest. He is not only a local legend but a celebrity of growing national fame, attracting both the coaches’ and the nation’s eyes in only his second year with the NFL. May I introduce, the one, the only, Jesse Valen!”

  Through the headphones, I could hear a fanfare playing as if Jesse was walking onto the soundstage and being greeted by an entire orchestra. In reality, it was just him and a small, sad smile on his face.

  “Good morning, everyone,” Jesse said, seeming entirely at home in this celebrity atmosphere. “This is Jesse Valen, folks, and I’m thrilled to be back in my hometown to celebrate with you before the preseason starts.”

  “And we are honored to have you, Jesse,” Tom exclaimed. “You certainly have a lot to celebrate. Twenty-five years old, and you are already being fought over by three different NFL coaches—”

  “Thank you very much, Tom,” Jesse interrupted, “Yeah, all of that is great, but I am actually not here to talk about football.”

  Tom blinked at us, opening and closing his mouth several times, looking like a goldfish, before he put his hand over the microphone, leaned toward us, and whispered, “Um…what?”

  “You heard me right, Tom,” Jesse said. “I’m actually here to talk about something much more important than football.” There was a baffled silence, after which Jesse laughed and said, “Yes, Tom, believe it or not, there are things more important to me than football.”

  His voice suddenly lost its playful tone. He became serious and, after a reassuring squeeze from my hand, Jesse leaned into the microphone as if confiding a great secret.

  “You see, folks,” he started, “I am here to talk about two people who are very near and dear to me. Everybody treats me like I’m some sort of hero. They think that because I’m pretty good at football, I’m better, or stronger, than everyone else. But I’m here to tell you that these two friends of mine are the strongest and bravest people I know.”

  He paused and looked at me. Unbidden, I felt my eyes start to water.

  Still holding my gaze, he continued, “The first one is Bill Taft. He was a local legend here as well, a star running back on my high school team and the only guy I know who could outrun me. Some of you may remember the scandal he was caught in about five years ago. He was arrested for a DUI after crashing his car. A girl was injured, but nobody was severely hurt—except for Bill.

  “Although he wasn’t physically hurt, the damage to his future seemed irreparable. He lost his scholarship, was booted off the team and waved goodbye to whatever chance he had of playing the NFL —and the trust me, his chances were greater than mine. His whole future was ruined by a single, stupid, young man’s mistake and everyone, everywhere, thought he was a loser. However, because I lacked Bill Taft’s bravery, there is one part of the story nobody else knows, no one except for me. It’s time that stops. It’s time people know the truth.”

  Jesse took a short pause and several deep breaths. His hand squeezed mine until it was cold and white, but I didn’t pull away. I decided to be brave as well and give him the comfort he always gave me.

  After a few seconds of dead silence, Jesse continued, “The truth is, ladies and gentlemen, that I was in the car, too. I was as drunk as Bill was and begged him to drive because I was not up to the responsibility of dealing with the consequences of doing so myself. I was in the car when he crashed it, and I saw…”

  For a moment, his voice wavered. I could see silent tears forming in his closed eyes, and they broke my heart.

  Jesse cleared his throat and continued, “I saw that Bill was trapped and that the girl was hurt—not terribly, but still … I also saw the police arriving and that out of th
e three of us, I had a way out. I could run. And so I did.

  “As a result of that night, Bill’s future was ruined, and mine skyrocketed to fame and fortune. Once the initial terror had passed, I returned to Bill and begged him to let me give myself up, but he wouldn’t let me. He was stronger, and more selfless, than I ever have been.

  “Though my career might suggest otherwise, that night, I felt as if my life ended just as thoroughly as Bill’s did.”

  He paused. My hand stayed in his because I knew he was not finished. Tom gazed at us, his mouth hanging slightly open, completely forgetting about the microphone in front of his face. After at least a full minute, so that the severity of the situation could sink in, Jesse resumed his public confession.

  “You may be wondering why I am sharing this with of all of you,” he said in a much steadier voice. “It is because I am tired of running. As you may remember, at the beginning of this speech I mentioned I would talk about two people I love. The first was Bill. The second is his sister, Mary Taft.”

  Jesse glanced at me, and I smiled at him. “The life of an NFL star is filled with parties and celebrities and beautiful women, but I felt incomplete and empty until Mary Taft came back into my life. She filled a void that I thought was unfillable and brought comfort to my soul, which I thought had been permanently damaged. She is sitting here beside me, and I just wanted to say, for all to hear, that I love her more than I’ve loved anyone in my entire life. I want her to be my wife so I can be with her every moment until the day I die.

  “But even this, ladies and gentlemen, is not the most fantastic news I have to share.” Finally, the tension in his face slipped away, and he smiled. “It is with great joy and utmost dedication that I tell you that Mary and I are having a baby. We’re bringing a new life into this world, and I want him or her to be born into a family of love and acceptance, not of guilt and secrets. So I’m setting the record straight. No more lies and no more cowardice. It is time for me to grow up and be the man my child needs me to be.”

  Across from us, Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Jesse wasn’t done. He raised a hand to stop the man and continued, “And Bill—I pray that you are listening—it’s time for you to become the man you were always meant to be. I’m so sorry for what happened, but it is not too late. That is what Mary has taught me. That is what this baby has taught me. That there is always hope for the future and, if you allow it, I would like to be part of your future.

  “Thank you, everybody. This is Jesse Valen, wishing you a great day.”

  With that, he reached up with perfect precision and switched off his microphone. He smiled, pushed it away from his face, and offered me his hand as he stood. I expected to be unsteady when I rose, perhaps even to fall over, but I was as sturdy and vigorous as he was. It was evident to me: together, we made each other stronger.

  Seeing that we were about to leave, Tom gestured wildly for us to return to our seats, but we only smiled, bowed in unison, and then left the room. Just as the door was closing behind us, I heard Tom say, almost shakily, “Well, folks, that was certainly exciting news, but we turn to our callers now. Let’s get some reactions to this fantastic bit of insight into the life of our local hero—”

  Then the door closed and everything, all of it, disappeared in an instant.

  Outside, the crowd of well-wishers was still waiting. When they saw us, they erupted into cheers.

  “What a man you’ve landed, huh? What a man!” some lady cried as she dashed up to me and shook my hand.

  Another person, this time an old man, marched straight up to Jesse and clapped him on the shoulder. “I think what you did was very brave, son,” he said. “I’m sure Bill will forgive you now.”

  “Thank you,” Jesse murmured, so humbled and quiet that one would never have guessed he was a national celebrity.

  Together, and after many congratulations and well-wishes—including some that featured strangers touching my stomach—we made our way out of the radio station and back to the car. It was only there, in the privacy of its hooded interior, that I gave Jesse a long, deep, and passionate kiss. I felt a warmth blooming in between my legs, and sensed his kissing growing urgent.

  “Back to the hotel?” he asked, coming up for air after a minute.

  “Back to the hotel,” I replied.

  In a Freaky Friday moment, he asked, “But what about Bill?”

  “I think, for now, we wait,” I said, a little amazed that he was bringing up my brother now. “You gave your apology. The ball is in his court now.”

  He nodded, kissed me again, and slid his hands between my legs as a promise of what was to come. “Okay, time to get my balls in your court, then.’

  “Agreed. Now drive, you bastard! Drive!” I cried, throwing my hand into the air and laughing wildly.

  With a cocky grin and a chuckle, Jesse threw the car into drive and floored it. We burst from the driveway and careened as fast as that hundred-grant car would go back to the hotel.

  Chapter 12

  For a solid week, we were all anybody was talking about. People stopped us on the street to ask about our relationship, the baby, and how we planned to deal with Jesse’s crazy NFL schedule. All these queries, however, were nothing more than soothing raindrops on a warm summer’s day. We answered all of them with humor, earnestness, and without anything to hide.

  The only questions that made us feel perturbed at all were the questions about Bill. We still hadn’t heard from him. True to our agreement in the car, we had stayed away from the hospital knowing that if he wanted to see us, he would come find us.

  As nice as the attention was, we soon grew tired of it and decided to have a small, low-key wedding. To make up for all my missed days of work and the fact that I was quitting, we asked Mr. Davis if we could have it at the restaurant and he obviously said yes. It was a beautiful, comfortable and familiar place that would fit all our friends and loved ones—hopefully, as we were still waiting on Bill’s confirmation.

  I bought my dress at a local seamstress’s shop. Jesse gave me no price limit and told I could buy my dress anywhere, even at the most expensive boutiques, but I liked giving the old lady my business. She did an excellent job, and her little shop boomed when word got out that she had made the wedding dress of Mary Taft, soon-to-be wife of Jesse Valen. Knowing that I was sharing my newly found happiness with good people, made me feel splendid and put another layer of happiness into our wedding.

  Though I was super busy, I continued to go to my nursing classes. It was still my dream, and it was a heck of a lot easier to focus on my studies when I wasn’t consumed by working overtime. However, when it came time for my wedding, I made sure to take the week off to enjoy the festivities.

  The days leading up to the wedding were frenzied, but at the same time extremely enjoyable. My life before Jesse had been so stressful that even something as toilsome as planning a wedding was as easy as a walk in the park. Contrary to custom, Jesse and I spent most of the time together, laughing and joking as we usually did.

  When the day of the wedding finally arrived, I was calm and ready to start my new life with my husband. I stood in the kitchen, having the other waitresses fuss with my hair and makeup, and looked through the pass-through window.

  There weren’t too many people present, just my close friends from the restaurant and college, as well as some of Jesse’s teammates and family. The restaurant was almost unrecognizable with flowers and ribbons everywhere giving it a fairytale grotto feel to the usual plain honey-colored walls. However, as beautiful as the room was, nothing compared to the sight of Jesse waiting for me between two long rows of tables.

  My lips curled up into a smile as our wedding song blasted through the sound system of the restaurant announcing my arrival. As the girls wished me luck and disappeared through the kitchen doors, I took a deep breath, saddened only by the thought that there was no one to walk me down the aisle.

  Just then, however, I heard a scuffle outside. There were
a few gasps, a man shouting curses, and then the sound of China being knocked aside. Fearfully, I poked my head out of the kitchen door only to nearly collide with—

  “Bill!” I cried, leaping to embrace him.

  He looked incredibly handsome in his suit and, for the first time in years, I felt so happy and proud to be his sister.

  “Did I miss it? Did I miss it?” he asked frantically, clearly out of breath.

  “No,” I said. “You’re just in time. Want to walk me down the aisle?”

  “It would be my pleasure,” he said with a proud smile as he took me by the arm. At the bar, someone reset the music announcing, once again, my arrival.

  Bill and I walked towards the makeshift altar where Jesse waited for me with our arms interlocked. We strutted in a slow and steady pace, both relishing the precious moment of joy. I finally had my beloved brother back and the man I had always loved. My heart swelled with a joy I never thought I could experience in my lifetime.

  My gaze focused on Jesse and I couldn’t help but return the silly grin on his face. Although my eyes were too watery and blurry to see anything properly, I could have sworn that actual tears were brimming in his eyes. Bill must have noticed how overcome with emotion the two of us were because I heard him chuckling quietly to himself.

  When we finally arrived in front of Jesse, Bill surprised everyone by folding his arms around his friend in a backbreaking embrace. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Me too,” Jesse replied, and now I was sure there were tears in his peepers.

  When their embrace reached an awkward length of time, someone in the audience cried, “Hey, buddy. Leave it to the bride, why don’t ya?”

  Everybody laughed. Bill, blushed slightly, pulled away and took a seat at the closest table.

  Now it was just Jesse standing at the altar along with me.