Make-Believe Marriage

by CA Quigg

  "Got that right," Darcy agreed, appearing by my side. "If he does, he'll have me to answer to. Got that?" She jabbed a finger into his stomach for emphasis.

  "I'm glad she has you looking out for her," he said and grinned. "The wrath of Darcy isn't something I want to face."

  "Good. Now," she said turning her attention to me, "Does this mean I get to plan a proper wedding? I'm thinking next summer after the baby comes. We can have it at the club."

  I smiled and stroked my stomach. "I can't think of anything I'd like more."

  Caden snaked an arm around my waist. "I meant what I said. The club is yours if you want it. Do you want it?"

  "Right now, the only thing I want is you and our baby. The rest will work itself out."

  "Anything for you," he said pressing a kiss to my head. "Let's get out of here."

  "Let's." I squeezed his hand. "We have a lot of making up to do."

  We steered around the crowd, but before we reached the front door, Doris stood in our way. Her face serious.

  "Where do you two love birds think you're going?"

  "We can explain," I said in a rush. "We really do love each other. We weren't lying. Are you going to report us?"

  Doris arched an eyebrow toward Caden. "You haven't told her?"

  "Told me what?" I asked looking from one to the other.

  "Your handsome husband came into my office a few days ago and explained everything. He told me his story from beginning to end."

  "You weren't angry?" I held my hands against my stomach and sucked in a breath.

  "Angry doesn't come close. But I gave him a chance to plead his case." She firmed her lips. "If any of my coworkers had this case, you can bet the both of you would be in a shit load of trouble." She jerked her thumb toward Caden. "Mr. Gallagher persuaded me he loved you. I told him if he could prove it, I wouldn't report either of you for fraud."

  "Thank you," I gushed.

  "Thanks for listening, Doris," Caden said. "It means more than you'll ever know. If I'd lost the chance to spend my life with Lizzie and the baby, I don't know what I would have done."

  "You have a lifetime supply of products and spa treatments. Anything you need." I said.

  Doris laughed. "You might regret saying that."

  I hauled her into a hug and squeezed tight. "Your daughter is lucky to have someone as awesome as you for a mom."

  "Speaking of which." She looked over her shoulder and beckoned to her daughter. When the teenager stood by her side, she said, "This is Vanessa. Your biggest fan."

  "Thank you for giving my products a chance, Vanessa. From now on, I'm going to have you test out everything."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Gallagher," she said and blushed.

  Doris chuckled and squeezed my hand. "Get out of here. We can talk more tomorrow."

  Outside, a misty wind blowing in from the Atlantic slapped my cheeks, and I buried my chin in Caden's shoulder. "Let's walk the beach."

  "As my lady requests."

  With hands joined, we made our way over damp sand to the edge of the ocean. "It seems years ago since we first talked on the beach. Since you first asked me to marry you," I said.

  "A lifetime. I think, over the past few months, I've grown up more than I have over the last ten years. I should never have put you through what I did. Almost losing you showed me what a selfish prick I was being. You didn't deserve any of it." He circled his thumb around the back of my hand, and said, "I promise, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

  I caught his hand and kissed his palm. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch at the hospital. I've lost so much in my life. I thought losing you was more that I could stand, but if anything had happened to the baby, I don't know what I would have done."

  "If our baby is anything like you, she's strong and isn't going anywhere. If I have to carry you for the next eight months, I will."

  I laughed. "I think I'll manage. What happens now?"

  "I'm going to take you home and make love to you. After that, we'll take it as it comes."

  I wrapped my arms around my husband's neck. "Take me home. To our home."

  He picked me up and carried me over the sand. A month and a half ago my life was on the verge of disaster. Now, I had a man who loved me, and a baby on the way.

  My life couldn't be any more amazing.

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  Firstly, thank you to you reading Make-Believe Marriage. I hope you laughed and cried and felt tingly in all the right places. Having gone through the green card process, I know how stressful it can be. Although, I've always found the immigration officers to be sweet, and I've never had any trouble. Well, apart from the time I left my green card in Ireland during a family vacation. I cried when they escorted me to the cubicles at the side of the immigration hall. But, after warning me how serious not carrying my green card was, they let me into the country with a slap on the wrists. I haven't forgotten it since.

  My husband, I'll call him Elvis, (one day I'll include why in one of my books) has held my hand and encouraged me from day one. I certainly found my prince charming, my knight in shining armor, my soul mate and one true love in him. Love you, my hunka burnin' love.

  If you haven't read Twist of Fate, keep swiping for your bonus copy. Twist of Fate if one of my all time favorites. Even now, it still gives me a case of the warm and fuzzies. Happy reading. xxx

  Twist of Fate

  Fun and Steamy Feel-Good Romance

  Callie Quigg

  Copyright © Callie Quigg

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Cover Design and formatting: Callie Quigg

  Cover image photos: Deposit Photos

  Twist of Fate

  After Quinn Marshall’s ex drains her bank account and spreads vicious lies about her business, the penniless wedding planner needs a big event to help salvage her ruined reputation. And she gets just that chance when megastar Ella Harper announces her plans to marry in Ireland. Quinn’s pitch about the fated love she shares with her perfect fiancé wins over Ella and scores Quinn the contract. It’s a shame Mr. Perfect is nothing more than a figment of Quinn’s imagination.

  But no one will ever discover her one little white lie...right?

  Ronan Donovan despises liars and cheats. He discovers Quinn Marshall lied to win the contract that should have been his and forces his way into her fabricated life posing as her fated fiancé. When their counterfeit kisses turn real and Ronan’s feelings begin to cloud his judgment, he must to choose between exposing Quinn as a fraud or trusting his traitorous heart…and her.

  This book is dedicated to Suz.

  Without your constant cheerleading and support, I would never have had the courage to stay on this road.

  When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew. —Arrigo Boito

  Chapter One

  Jesus. What a complete waste of time. Ronan Donovan’s head pounded as if he’d spent all day throwing back double shots of Jameson. He wished. He’d spent the last few hours scanning inane gossip blogs digging for information. Movie star Ella Harper planned to marry pop brat Kai Parks somewhere in Ireland on Christmas Eve—only a week away. If all had gone to plan, Donovan Events would’ve won the contract. But things hadn’t gone to plan. Far from it. And he wanted to know why.

  He rubbed his gritty eyes and glanced out of
his office windows. Rays from the setting sun flickered behind Manhattan’s dimming skyline. The fiery view suited his mood.

  How had his company lost one of the biggest celebrity contracts of the year, and how had Making Memories, an insignificant Irish company, won it?

  Nothing about how he lost the contract made sense. Per Google Quinn Marshall, the owner of Making Memories, had no offices or employees. No way could she pull off such a high profile event.

  Why had two international stars hired her to coordinate their wedding when she had no more than a few z-list events to her name? It didn’t add up. One way or another, he’d discover how she’d succeeded where he’d failed. All bids for the job were supposed to be anonymous. He’d found out he’d lost the contract when lowlife Brady Gibson emailed saying they should chat about Quinn Marshall winning the Harper-Parks wedding.

  Ronan grinned. Had the bastard’s nose healed from the last time they’d met?

  If Brady said the sky was blue, Ronan would check to make sure he wasn’t lying. But when a quick online search showed social media photos of Brady’s hand groping a sexy brunette named Quinn, Ronan decided he’d give him ten seconds.

  For the twentieth time in five minutes, he checked his cell to make sure he hadn’t missed Brady’s call. He hadn’t. If his family knew he was in contact with Brady without killing him, they’d kick him into next week.

  Caden, Ronan’s younger brother, wearing his usual construction site uniform of worn jeans and a torn red flannel shirt, strode into the office and dropped onto a chair on the opposite side of Ronan’s pristine desk.

  “Fancy a few beers at Kiernan’s?” Despite living in Brooklyn Heights for over fourteen years, Caden’s Northern Irish lilt was as strong as ever. It was as if he’d never left Derry’s narrow streets. “He’s expecting a few Christmas parties at the bar tonight. You know what that means?” Caden wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Can’t play wingman this evening. Too busy.” Ronan minimized the gossip sites cluttering his browser. Any other night, he’d have jumped at the chance to toss back a few beers at Kiernan’s. Their brother’s bar was always good for a laugh and for picking up women, but he wanted to figure out how he’d fucked up before doing anything, or anyone.

  “What’s up, sad arse?” Caden asked. “It’s not like you to refuse a few pints.”

  “Nothing.” Ronan tapped his fingers against his phone. “I’m thinking.”

  “Thinking? Don’t go giving yourself an aneurysm.”

  “The Ella Harper wedding. I still don’t know how I lost the job.”

  “Would you ever wise up and catch yourself on?” Caden leaned back in the leather chair and swung his steel-toed boots on top of Ronan’s desk, sending dried flakes of mud crumbling onto the polished surface. “You’re not going to have to close the doors over one lost event.”

  Ronan reached over and shoved his brother’s feet off his desk. “I don’t understand how a Mickey Mouse company won the contract. Something about Quinn Marshall doesn’t add up.”

  “Christ. You don’t even know her. You can’t—” Caden ran impatient fingers through his dark crew cut. “She’s not Abbey. Get over it.”

  “I did. I have. A long time ago.” Ronan eyed his brother, daring him to bring up Abbey’s name again. Three years had passed, and while memories of their time together no longer sucker punched his solar plexus, they still touched a nerve. “I have to find out how I lost the contract.”

  “Did you ever stop to think that maybe this Marshall woman is decent at her job?” Caden, not hiding his annoyance, pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “I doubt it.” Ronan straightened the pens beside his ink blotter and blew out a breath. “There’s no way she can organize this wedding in a week. Even I’d find it tough, and I’m the best at what I do.”

  “Chill, Ro. Weddings aren’t what you’re about. Forget it and move on. Stop with the whole Magnum P.I. thing.”

  Ronan gripped a pen and clicked it repeatedly. “If I’d won the contract, do you know how many high profile events would’ve come my way? How many new clients and connections I’d have made? How much money?”

  “There’ll be others. You’re not hurting for business. If you want my advice—”

  Ronan gritted his teeth. “I don’t.”

  “Too bad. Stick to corporate conferences. That’s where your bread-and-butter is and it’s what you know. I can’t see you arm deep in frilly dresses and cakes.”

  “I’d hire someone. It’s called delegation.”

  Caden jumped to his feet and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk. “Enough of this depressing crap. I’m off to the bar. If you decide to pull the stick out of your arse, stop by.”

  “Say hello to Kiernan for me.” Ronan’s cell rang, and an international number flashed on the screen. He accepted the call, and said, “Be with you in a second.”

  “Who’s that?” Caden nodded toward the phone in Ronan’s hand.

  “It’s personal.” Ronan pressed mute. If Caden knew he was talking to the man who’d left their sister Ashlen at the altar and then wiped her bank account, they’d end up in a brawl. Betraying his family this way was unforgivable, but he needed answers, and he’d get them any way he could. He swallowed back the guilt gnawing his throat. Sometimes business won over family.

  “Secrets?” Caden raised an eyebrow.

  “If there’s anything you need to know, I’ll tell you.”

  Caden shrugged and walked toward the door. “Stop obsessing.”

  “I’m not obsessing. Just keeping an eye out for my business.”

  “Don’t do anything stupid.” Giving a terse wave, Caden left the office.

  Ronan unmuted the call. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yeah, it has.” Brady’s rough Southside Dublin accent hurt Ronan’s ear. “How’s ya sista?”

  Ronan’s jaw clenched. If the piece of scum were in front of him, he’d break more than his nose. More like every bone in his scrawny body. “You said you wanted to discuss Quinn Marshall.”

  “The lovely Ms. Marshall is as devious as she is beautiful. Isn’t afraid to use her face, tits, or her ass to get what she wants. One of the best swindlers I’ve come across.”

  “Is that so?” Satisfaction rolled through Ronan. Quinn had won the contract by being devious and underhanded. He should have known.

  “Compared to her, I’m a pickpocket. She’s an extortionist. Knows every con in the book. Lies fall from her lips like crap from a cow with food poisoning.”

  Ronan leaned back in his chair. “Why should I believe a word you say? You and the truth aren’t exactly friends.”

  “After we hang up, check your inbox for a video of her pitch. Everything she says is bull. All researched and planned to build trust, confidence. She doesn’t have a fiancé. No great love story.”

  “Why not go to Ella and Kai yourself? The police?”

  “The police? No way, man. Honor among thieves and all that. Besides, need to lay low for a few months. Biding my time is what I’m doing.” He gave a bitter sounding laugh. “She’s not as smart as she thinks she is. I can still get into her emails. When I read them and saw your name, thought you’d appreciate knowing she pulled one over on you.”

  “All perspective vendors were anonymous. Why was my name in her emails?” Irritation chewed at his stomach, growing stronger by the second.

  “Not as anonymous as you thought.” Brady gave a slow laugh as if he loved every second of knowing something Ronan didn’t. “I already told you, she’s good at what she does. She has a way of getting every piece of information she needs.”

  “How does she think she’s going to get away with conning two international stars?” Ronan asked.

  “Hidden cameras in the bedroom and bathroom. Moles planted as wait staff. I’ve never met anyone like her in my life.”

  Ronan had. He knew her kind intimately. Money meant more to her
than morals, and she’d do anything she could to get her hands on it. She saw people as stepping-stones, as things she could throw away when they’d fulfilled their use.

  “What’s in this for you?” Ronan woke up his computer and clicked into his inbox.

  “Think of this as an apology of sorts.”

  Ronan resisted the urge to snort. Brady wouldn’t know an apology if it pulled down his trousers and kicked him up the arse. “Save the bullshit, Gibson. What do you want?”

  “All in good time. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up.

  Owing a favor to Brady was worse than owing a favor to the Russian mafia, but it might be worth it. A few seconds later, an email with a video attachment appeared in Ronan’s inbox. He pressed play and leaned back to watch.