She received a text: Pick you up at 4pm. Promise won’t oversleep :)
Bastard.
At least, Adele reasoned, it left her with all the time in the world to have a proper breakfast (as he’d pointed out!) and catch some TV. She used to watch a lot of it back in high school, but in the last seven or eight years she rarely had time to do so. Most of the popular stuff was reality, anyway, and she saw no point watching what was going on all around her everyday. She watched movies and some shows when she could, but that too required too much of her time. Books were more her thing. They were always there, ready when you were to let you in and let you imagine the world, as you wanted to. This morning, however, she just needed some quiet time.
Since she was ready to go out, she did just that. There was a fine little French café on the corner down the street, perfect for a light morning. She ordered one of those French baguettes she’d tried once in Paris, back when she was a little girl. They put butter, cheese and ham into those, making the bread into a simple but tasty sandwich. The one served at this café was heated, and contained greens and pepper, neither of which she liked. But once those two ingredients were removed, it was possible to enjoy. Of course, then came coffee, two big cups of Cappuccino in a row. Adele was reading news articles on Red Johnson, trying to understand his character a little bit. There were also pages on various social medias to go through. On the second hour of the Internet stalking she began to question whether it was necessary to go so deep into research, when all they needed was a few fake prescriptions from the man. That was it, right?
She decided so, and enjoyed the rest of the morning in peace, focused instead on the coming days. They would spend them moving in, getting into their roles of a happy couple, getting situated, before the first session with the charlatan. Since the house was a rental, there was no need to worry about making it any more habitable, and the only thing they’d have to work on is their appearance.
Despite having a hard time enduring Dan’s general attitude, Adele did not find him repulsive (she made a mental note of never using that as a compliment). Harsh as the wording was, it would be key when things got physical. Not physical physical, of course, but they’d have to hold hands and possibly hug during the coming weeks, if only for show. They’d have to make it believable. She had no doubt that Dan wouldn’t be shy about it, guys like him could get handsy without anything holding them back, but that wouldn’t be a problem – she had never let a guy closer than she wanted him.
On the other hand, she hadn’t had a boyfriend for a while, not counting Neil. He was fun (and inventive, and hard-working, and insatiable) in bed, but they’d never had a relationship, per se. He had taken her out once, but even then the conversation was about work. It had been just fine, but now she realized how she’d missed the part the whole business was about – everything besides sex. Could she pull it off?
Surely she could, right?
Yet, she wondered.
She got back home at noon, full and a bit down. For the lack of better things to do in the meanwhile, she undressed, washed the makeup off, and lay down. It was amazing having a nap in the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Feeling blessed, she dozed off, waking up two hours later.
Amazing. She’d slept all afternoon, yet there was still plenty of time before work! She lingered underneath the warm blanket, relishing the moment. But then, chances were she’d probably be sleeping all through the afternoon every day in the next few weeks.
It was cool, but terrifying at the same time. She’d worked out a comfortable day-to-day routine at her job, and not doing it, she felt she was slacking off. But the hours counted, and though it was practically a paid vacation, the firm saw it as extra work on the case, and that was a win-win situation.
Adele had a measured lunch on the small balcony, listening to pop music and watching the street, waiting for the blue Camaro, imagining it roar down the street and stop with a squeal in front of the building, Dan would be cocky enough to do just that. When her phone rang at five to four, however, she looked out the window and didn’t see the muscle car.
“I’m downstairs,” Dan said.
“Aren’t you going to help me with the suitcase?”
“I could, but wouldn’t that be demeaning?” He laughed.
“You’re an asshole.”
She hung up, grabbed her bags and headed out of the apartment. Surprisingly, Dan was right there, leaning against the wall next to the elevator doors. He was dressed in a white shirt with a green crew neck over it. His hair was different, too – shorter, brushed to one side and incredibly boring. Well-pressed pants ended with a pair of moccasins. It was a different man altogether, and one she liked less, if that was possible. He pushed off when he saw her and hurried to help, grabbing the suitcase handle.
“There you are,” he said. “Remarkably quick.”
“Who’s this dork?” she asked, amused smile on her face.
“I’m taking this seriously”
“How do you know where I live?” She pressed the button, and heavy doors slid open.
“Um, I’m an investigator, remember?” He followed her inside and pressed 1.
“More like a stalker.”
“Comes with the job. I once had to catch a couple in the act, a wealthy guy and a kindergarten teacher, so I had to hang out at her place of employment for hours. Imagine that. And I wasn’t in the Camaro, either, at the time I had a beat up Accord, dirty-gray.”
Adele laughed in spite of her best efforts. “Were you rocking a ‘stache to go with it?”
“Hey, you actually do have a sense of humor!”
“Way to ruin the moment, Krakowski.”
“Well, I wasn’t. Rocking a ‘stache I mean.”
The doors opened, and they walked out into the hallway, and then out to the street. Parked out front was a white Mercedes sedan, one of the more expensive models, judging by its looks. It was a slick ride, way classier than Dan’s regular ride. It beeped open, and he went to the trunk to put the suitcase away. Adele got comfortable in the front, taking deep breaths through her nose – the leather smell of a new car was arousing. Dan got in next to her and fired up the engine.
“Is this a rental?” she asked.
“No. Rental cars have stickers all over. Besides, renting this baby for three weeks? You may as well buy a new one. A guy owed me a favor, so call it… a lengthy test drive.”
“Sweet. But don’t you think we’re overdoing it a bit?”
“No. This is perfect. We’re a couple of rich idiots, ready to give strangers money for doing absurd things. Kinda like religion.”
Adele left without a reply, but the way he said it hurt, for some reason. She’d been raised Catholic, and even though she never followed all the various rituals and rules, the spiritual part of faith had always brought her comfort.
They joined 9A and drove along Hudson until they reached Fort Washington Park and got over George Washington Bridge. From there it would be a short drive to Interstate 87, which would take them straight to Lake George and their temporary new house in a matter of a few hours.
Watching the river and the other bank on their left, out of Dan’s window, Adele said, “You don’t believe in God, do you?”
He paused, and it was impossible what he was thinking. He said, “If you wanna make friends, Simpson, don’t talk religion or politics.”
But she wouldn’t drop it: “Seriously though.”
“What gave me away? But you bring up a good point. If anyone asks, we’re Catholic.”
She nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at her. Perhaps, there was some story behind his evasion, and if so, she didn’t want to pursue it. Krakowski was an arrogant bastard, but he had the right to privacy like anyone else.
The drive turned out to be even longer than she anticipated, because Dan was going under the speed limit, already in character.
“Didn’t know you were this method!” Adele said.
He shrugged, “I’m not.” And then
he stepped on the accelerator. The engine purred, but the acceleration wasn’t noticeable, and the time continued to flow slowly.
They listened to some music then, and in an hour and a half stopped at a gas station to grab nasty coffee in small paper cups and some burgers.
“You know what I think would be cool?” he said when they were eating. It was hard to take him seriously when he looked like a United Colors of Benetton model. “I think it would be cool if I were this nice guy, and you were my slutty wife. You know, so that we complete each other. If anyone asks, I mean.”
“Dream on, Krakowski. Who would ask us, anyway?”
“Johnson. I bet he’ll ask us all sorts of personal questions, so we need to be ready. I’m just thinking this through.”
“He’s thinking this through… Get your mind out of the gutter, because I’m losing my appetite.” It wasn’t entirely true. She’d had these fantasies from time to time, too. Not with Dan Krakowski on her mind, obviously, but she could well imagine herself being a slutty wife. They’d tried it with Neil, only their roles were reversed. He had been good that night.
“Okay,” Dan said, “what do you think we should focus on?”
“On the relationship, duh.” She finished her burger and drank coffee.
Dan sighed audibly. “It’s always touchy-feely with you women! Okay, elaborate.”
She wiped her lips, crumpled the napkin and headed back to the car. “Come on, we’ll discuss it on the way.” She stopped beside him while he was finishing the burger, and leaned close to his ear. She whispered, “By the way, I’d play a slutty wife like you wouldn’t believe!”
He nearly choked, and she moved on, happy with the result. She was fighting back and it felt great!
The rest of the way to the countryside they did discuss their pretend relationship, trying to figure out the smallest details. Again Adele had to ask herself whether they weren’t getting carried away. Sure, there would be questions, but they wouldn’t be grilled with lamps in their faces. Hopefully. At some point she noticed they were bouncing ideas off of each other pretty well, not quite completing each other’s sentences, but pushing the story forward.
They left their personal biographies unchanged for the most part – the childhood and teenage years were going to be genuine – but everything about the past seven years would have to go. According to the legend, they’d met back in college back in Jersey, and moved in together. Adele studied law, but dropped out when they got married, assuming the role of a housewife, which she was happy with. In real life, she would’ve never settled down for that. She had nothing against women who enjoyed taking care of their homes, but Adele firmly believed she was meant for bigger things. Still, it made for a believable part of her background and wouldn’t spook Johnson.
The same way, Dan was the head of a security company, as opposed to a PI agency, and dealt in home security systems. Not too suspicious yet important enough to be taken seriously. Dan even had a fake website for his pretend company.
“It’s a template,” he explained. “I rarely use it, but high-profile cases demand attention to detail. This guy knows he’s being sued, and if I were him, I’d run background checks on every dog he meets in the street.”
He was talking smart again, and that grabbed Adele’s attention. When he talked that way, and combined with his new style, he was a changed man, even positively charming, for a change. Again she wanted to keep him talking, but then he said: “Now that I think of it, Simpson, your legend is so unnoteworthy it is of itself noteworthy.”
“Are you doing this on purpose?” she asked.
“What?”
“Being a total asshole to me? Is that on purpose?”
“Sometimes.”
“Got it.”
She turned away, having lost all interest in him, or at least that was what she wanted him to think. She wanted him to feel guilty, to choke on his own inability to think before speaking. It didn’t work.
“Was that all I had to say to keep you quiet? I kind of want to marry you for real now.”
She turned up the volume of the radio, and they drove for another hour in silence – that’s how long it took her to calm down, to push away all negative thought. Adele rationalized Dan’s behavior to the best of her ability. He was a big child, an insecure bully who found it easy to go after girls. Or it was his way of flirting. Had they been in second grade he’d be pulling at her ponytail (even though she wore her hair short back then). It was as if Dan had split personality disorder. One persona was a silly teenager, while the other was a grown man, analytical and planning, thinking two steps ahead, except when it came to controlling his juvenile self.
It was an unspoken rule to wait for the man to talk first in this situation, but Adele wanted to be the smart one, since Dan clearly wouldn’t be. The sun was going down when she said, “Shall we pick up some food for the night?”
“Good idea. The fridge was empty when I last visited.”
“You’ve been at the house before?”
“Yeah, when I rented it. Look at it as a reconnaissance mission. Apparently, Johnson is a big part of the local community. Why do you think I worry so much about our appearance? We’ll have to blend in.” He shook his head subtly, as if he wasn’t a fan of the idea.
“Don’t you like this kind of thing?”
“Play pretend with some rich assholes? No. Do you?”
“I’m getting into it. I feel like we’re in a play, and we can be whatever we want.”
“While we’re on the topic, can we get back to the slutty wife idea?”
And there he was again by reducing it to sex. Seemed like every time they began to have a normal conversation he got cold feet and had to cut it off. Well, if that were his way, so be it, Adele wouldn’t lose sleep over it.
They stopped at a Publix and spent another hour walking around, Dan pushing the cart, and Adele throwing in food. The only two times Dan took part in choosing was when they walked past the meat section (he picked a filet and some ribs) and at the wine aisle (five bottles of red and five of white). Were Adele his wife for real, she’d have probably scolded him for it, demanding to put the alcohol back before then eventually settling for three bottles instead of ten, but she wasn’t, and was only looking forward to getting her cut of it.
“I guess you’ll be cooking then?” Dan asked in the checkout line.
“Huh. I can’t tell if you’re having a conversation or making a sexist remark.”
“I just can’t win, can I? No, I’m serious. I can do ribs, but not so much the steaks. I can do salads though.”
“Can you open wine?” she said.
“Sure.”
“You’re hired.”
There was no comeback from Dan. He paid with the company credit card and carried plastic bags to the car. There wasn’t much space left, since both of their suitcases had taken up most of it, and Adele had to put one in her foot well. They drove out of the parking lot and on to their destination.
It was already dark, and if Adele’s calculations were correct, they still had about an hour and a half on the road. The trip had turned out to be long, but not entirely unpleasant. Despite some head-butting she felt they’d made some progress regarding their back story together, and even that wouldn’t come into play until the next day or two, so there would be time.
They finally made it to Bolton at ten after ten in the evening, after driving along the lake for some time. It was to dark to see anything except the light trail on the ruffled water and a few distant mountain peaks against the sky, but it was enough to know they were truly a long way from the city, away from its rumble and noise. Adele buzzed the window down and smelled the air. It was cool and sweet.
They got off the highway turning onto a narrow road covered with gravel, and Dan slowed down. They were passing rare cottages on both sides of the road, but most were hidden behind trees with only a path leading up to their driveways. Still, there were clearly people living here, because lights could
be seen. Dan turned into one of such driveways at the very end of the rural street, and lights came to life along the path, all the way to the garage, where a few dim lamps now shone. He stopped the car close to the front door and killed the engine. He passed her the key.
“If you’ll do the honors.”
There wasn’t much to see as she walked to the door, as the world seemed to have gone completely dark. It was a new feeling after having lived most of her life in the city, and her eyes couldn’t quite adjust to the dark yet. She did find the keyhole and unlocked the door, and Dan was right behind her, carrying plastic bags in each hand.
Chapter 4
“Honey, we’re home.”
He flicked the lights on, and Adele saw a room a lot smaller than she imagined. Inside it was all wood, with walls consisting of logs stacked one on another. The floor was hardwood and creaked at her every step as she steeped deeper. The smell was present, as well, as if the house had been built only a few months ago. There weren’t any personal items, and in that regard the house felt exactly like a well-kept rental.
“So what do you think?” Dan asked. He had put the groceries on the kitchen floor and was now standing beside her. “Not too shabby?”
“A bit… small.”
“Wow. You’re making it too easy. Because it’s cold? That’s what she said?”
Adele groaned. “Grow up.”
“Right, I’m a married man now!” He put a hand around her shoulder, and she pushed it off.
“Just… put the groceries in the fridge, Dan.”
“Yep. Definitely married.”
She was annoyed, but also excited! The house was small, but sweet, the kind of place where you could easily feel like home without being afraid to touch anything. She checked it out more and found a toilet and a bedroom on the first floor, and two more bedrooms on the second. There was also a balcony that allowed a great view of the lake. Again there wasn’t much to see, but the mirror of the lake was enough. Perhaps it would turn out to be a vacation, after all, if the weather got a bit warmer.
Our Happily Ever After: BWWM Interracial Romance Black Women White Men (That Forbidden Love Book 3) Page 17