Fake It For Me_A Fake Fiance Romance

by Kira Blakely

  “What?” she shot back through a half-grin. “You’re the only one who gets to be full of himself?”

  I chuckled, making a mental note to keep in mind the fact that the last time Alice had seen me I was a cocky, rowdy-as-hell high-schooler, as full of piss and vinegar as they come.

  “Don’t let me stop you,” I said. “I mean, I can see that you’ve developed quite a bit of poise since we last saw one another.”

  And a few other “developments” as well, I thought, my eyes drifting down to her cleavage for a brief moment before I checked myself.

  Before any more words could be exchanged, the waiter sidled up to the table and began listing off the specials.

  “Porterhouse for me, very rare,” I said. “And the salmon for the lady.”

  The waiter nodded and headed off.

  “‘And the salmon for the lady’?” asked Alice, her eyebrows raised slightly. “You know this isn’t 1962, right? Women order for themselves now.”

  “You’ll like it,” I said, not letting her sass get the better of me. “Best fish in Brooklyn.”

  She crossed her arms over her breasts, which made her cleavage pop out just a bit.

  “How do you know I even eat fish?” she asked. “I could be a vegan.”

  “You do live in Williamsburg, I suppose,” I said. “You’d be in good company.”

  She let out a little snort that I think was intended to be dismissive, but instead came off as cute. I considered giving a little “you’re cute when you’re mad” poke, but thought better of it. After all, I was going to make the offer of all offers, and I needed her on board.

  I watched as Alice took a sip of her wine, her gorgeous eyes locked onto me.

  “What?” I asked, sitting back in my seat. “You look like you’re not prepared to let your guard down for a second.”

  “Just thinking about how weird this all is.”

  “I know,” I said. “Been so long since we’ve seen each other.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, setting down her glass. “You were dismissive of an interview at first. And then, all of a sudden, you warmed up to the idea. Now we’re here at some fancy restaurant when we could’ve easily met for drinks in some dive.”

  “And?” I asked.

  She was a reporter, I considered. Getting right to the bottom of things.

  “I want to know what it is you’ve got in mind. I’d like to think it’s because you’ve got a little bit of a soft spot for me, but I think there’s something else going on in that head of yours.”

  I raised my hands in mock-defeat.

  “OK,” I said. “You’ve got me.”

  I didn’t want to get to it so soon, but it appeared that Alice wasn’t the type to enjoy a little wining and dining before discussing business matters.

  “There is something I want to discuss. And you’re right: Normally, some little puff-piece write-up for a gossip magazine isn’t something I would bother with. But I had a meeting earlier in the day that put me in somewhat of a difficult situation.”

  “A ‘difficult situation’?” she asked, raising one of her thick, dark eyebrows.

  “Yes,” I said. “I met with the hospital board earlier in the day, and they let me know that they were considering me for the chief cardiac surgeon position that had recently opened up.”

  A small, impressed expression flashed on Alice’s face for the briefest of moments.

  “Congrats,” she said, taking another sip of her wine.

  “Thank you. But here’s the thing—One of the members of the board is a little old-fashioned, the type of man who doesn’t believe that a bachelor is the right person to be in a position of such authority and responsibility.”

  She said nothing, her expression one of close consideration.

  “So, he told me that until I decide to let a woman make an honest man out of me, the position’s going to be closed off.”

  Alice’s eyebrows raised again, this time in an even more shocked expression.

  “Can they do that?”

  “There’s nothing on paper about it, of course, but when you’re the head of the board you can make calls of that sort. The official reason would be that the other candidate was found to be a better fit, but I’d know the true reason why.”

  “Sounds rough,” she said. “Better get that OKCupid account set up.”

  “No need,” I said. “Because I’m thinking I’ve found the perfect fiancée right here.”

  It took a moment for just what I was implying to register. And once it did, Alice’s emerald-green eyes went as wide as it gets.

  “Surely you’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”

  “I am,” I said. “Think about it: You need me for your article. And I’m more than willing to give you whatever you need to write a career-making piece. All access. And, in exchange, you have to play a little role for me.”

  “That’s insane,” she said.

  “Think about it,” I said. “It’s the perfect cover. You and I have history, so it won’t be a question of how you and I made this decision so quickly. And you can interview me in the meantime.”

  “But…that means we’d have to, you know, actually get married!”

  “Nope,” I said. “We can play the role for just as long as it takes for the board to make a decision. Shouldn’t be more than a month. Then, once I’m picked and settled into the position, we can go our separate ways. Then the board will know that I’m the type to be serious about getting married, and I’ll already have the job.”

  Alice stared at me incredulously for a moment, her arms crossed again.

  “Is this a joke?” she asked. “Tell me this is a joke.”

  “I’m serious as it gets,” I said.

  “I...” she started.

  Then I could see the gears turning in her head. Just like I’d anticipated, she was dismissive at first, but once it dawned on her that she was going to get exactly what she needed out of this, she was warming up to the idea.

  “You have to give me some time to think about this,” she said. “It’s insane, but it could work. You have to give me a few days, at least.”

  I placed my hand on the shape of the small box in my pocket.

  “No time for that,” I said. “Here—let me make the decision easier for you.”

  Taking the box out of my pocket, I turned toward the rest of the restaurant.

  “Everyone!” I said, my voice projecting across the din of the dining room floor. “Sorry to interrupt your dinners, but I’d like your attention for just a moment.”

  The eyes of the nearby diners turned to Alice and me. I took the box out of my pocket, held it over the table, and popped it open.

  Inside was a beautiful diamond ring, the facets of the stone catching the lights around us.

  “Alice Holiday, you’ve made me the happiest man in New York City. And there’s nothing more I would love than to have the honor of spending the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

  The restaurant was so still and quiet that I could hear Alice’s shocked breath from across the table. I formed a big smile on my face as I held the ring, my expression a total contrast to the look of shock on Alice’s features.

  “What do you say, darling? Will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

  Alice then opened her mouth, and gave her response.

  Chapter 4

  Alice

  Part of me wanted to spin that ring right around on my finger and slap Connor right across that face of his and give him a scar that he’d remember forever. Once out of the restaurant and back into the cool of the evening air, the frustration and anger that I’d been keeping bottled up during the rest of the dinner felt like it was on the verge of blowing up and leveling about six blocks around us.

  “Ring looks good on you,” said Connor, his steps lively as he walked at my side.

  “You’re something else,” I said, my voice edged with anger. “Putting me on the spot like t
hat.”

  My heels clicked on the sidewalk as I made a beeline to the nearest bar, its purple and red neon lights like a beacon.

  “You didn’t have to say ‘yes,’ you know,” said Connor. “It was a proposal, not a demand.”

  I stopped in place and whipped around to face Connor, my hands balled into fists.

  “Are you serious?” I asked. “Did you see how many camera phones were on us? If I would’ve said ‘no,’ you and I would’ve been on the front page of every stupid social media site tomorrow with a headline like ‘epic proposal fail’ or some shit. And you knew it.”

  I started off again toward the bar.

  “OK,” said Connor. “I knew the pressure was on. But I figured you’d need a little push. Like I said, I don’t have time to wait around for you to hem and haw about whether to go along with my plan or not. And I know about journalism deadlines—I bet you don’t have any time to waste either.”

  We reached the bar and I stopped in front of the entrance.

  “Or, you know, you could’ve just agreed to the interview without pulling me into this ridiculous lie of yours.”

  Connor pulled the door open and gestured for me to enter in first. I wasn’t about to let him play the chivalry card, however, and grabbed the handle myself.

  “You ordered for me, you paid the check—the least I can do is open my own damn door.”

  Connor raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, as if conceding the point. I stomped into the bar, plopped down on the nearest stool, and ordered a whiskey sour. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Connor slid into the seat next to me.

  I glared at Connor for a moment, anger boiling inside of me as I stared hard at his calm expression. And the fact that he was still as ridiculously gorgeous as he’d always been didn’t help matters. If anything, the years that had passed since high school had given his face a measure of maturity. I felt a tightness in my pussy as my eyes scanned over him, and I scolded myself internally for getting distracted.

  “You know what?” I said, flagging down the bartender. “I think I need a shot.”

  Connor raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

  “Make that two,” he said, tapping the top of a vodka bottle behind the bar.

  The two shots of clear liquid were placed in front of us.

  “So,” said Connor, raising his glass, “what should we cheers t—”

  He was a little late. I downed the shot as soon as it was placed in front of me, the vodka quickly pooling like battery acid in the pit of my stomach.

  “Not sure if I should be impressed or worried,” he said.

  “Worried,” I said. “Worried about me socking you right in the gut.”

  He tilted his head back and drained his glass, a satisfied “ahh” sounding from him as he swallowed the booze.

  “It’s the same shit, you know?” I said, shaking my head.

  “Huh?” asked Connor.

  “Same shit as in high school.”

  Connor sat back in his seat and crossed his arms.

  “You can’t still be thinking about all that, can you? Alice, it’s been years.”

  I didn’t want to dump everything out on him like this and look like I’d been carrying a grudge for all these years, but I couldn’t help it. Seeing Connor had brought feelings back that had lain dormant, and this little stunt was all I needed to let him have it.

  “Easy for you to say,” I said. “You’re not the one who got used, tossed aside like a Kleenex or something.”

  Connor seemed to be measuring his words carefully.

  “OK,” he said. “Let’s hear it. If you’ve got something on your mind, you oughta get it out now if we’re going to be joined at the hip for the next month or so.”

  I took a deep breath and drummed my fingers on the bar. Finally, I spoke.

  “I thought I’d lucked out, getting the great Connor Rex—the ‘King’—” I said, shaking my head. “What would a guy like you want with some nerd like me, some gawky girl more interested in spending time with her nose in a book than partying and chasing boys?”

  Connor narrowed his eyes, seeming to listening intently.

  “I mean, at the time I wasn’t head over heels—don’t get me wrong. But you were so handsome, and so popular…how could a girl like me say no? And then we dated, and we slept together, and then after a few weeks you started ignoring me, treating me like I was some pest that you had to deal with. How the hell was I supposed to react?”

  I went on, the vodka making my words pour out with perhaps a little too much ease.

  “And I’d put it aside, moved on. But you were my first…everything. And now you’re back in my life, and all of this shit, this anger I had toward you, just came rushing back like a dam broke or something. Then, you pull me into some crazy freaking plan to pretend to be your fiancée. How the hell was I supposed to react?”

  I shook my head, already frustrated with myself for being so open.

  “And now I’m babbling.”

  I took a long sip of my whiskey. After a few long moments, Connor spoke.

  “Listen,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I know it was a long time ago, and I suppose I could say that I was a stupid kid and leave it at that, but you’re right.”

  I raised an eyebrow and cocked my head.

  “The way I treated you was totally irresponsible. I was a real prick back then, no two ways about it. All I cared about was chasing girls and adding notches to my bedpost. I didn’t stop for a moment to think about how the girls might’ve felt. And I regret it. Plenty of guys look back on their high school years with fondness, but all I can think about when I consider those times is how careless I was. Especially with you.”

  I turned my head toward Connor, my eyes as wide as they could be. Hearing words like this out of Connor Rex was about the last damn thing I expected. High-school Connor would’ve slugged a guy in the arm and called him a pussy if he’d heard him talking this way.

  “And pulling you into this thing without giving you the time to consider it was wrong—I know that now. But I just felt like my back was against the wall.”

  Was he really going to say it? Was he really going to apologize? I quickly thought back to him so long ago, how he was the kind of cocky asshole who’d accidentally bump into a freshman in the hallway and make the kid apologize to him.

  “And…I’m sorry.”

  I sat back, a bemused expression on my face. I sipped my drink slowly, taking it all in.

  “Did Connor Rex just…apologize?”

  “Connor Rex just apologized,” he said. “And Connor Rex just referred to himself in the third person, apparently.”

  I let out a little snort laugh, and a broad smile appeared on Connor’s face.

  “You’ve still got that snort-laugh,” he said. “Same as in high school.”

  “Oh god, don’t point it out—I haven’t been able to get rid of it.”

  “You shouldn’t,” he said. “It’s charming.”

  I looked down and saw that my drink was nearly empty. Between that, the shot, and the few glasses of wine I’d had at dinner, I was feeling more than a little tipsy.

  “No way,” I said, pointing a finger at Connor, my finger wavering a bit from the booze. “I’ve left my nerdy days behind.”

  Connor glanced at my finger.

  “OK, ace reporter, I think it’s time you got to bed. Why don’t you crash at my place tonight? I’ve got a spare bedroom and we can get in some interview preliminaries before I go to work.”

  I shook my head a bit, trying to come to my senses.

  “Yeah,” I said. “That sounds good.”

  “Great,” he said, motioning for the check.

  “Hey…” I said. “No paying.”

  “Too late,” he said, slipping a pair of twenties in the checkbook.

  A few minutes later we approached a silver luxury car parked on the corner.

  “Damn,” I said. “This you?”

  “Th
is me,” he said.

  I slid into the sleek interior of the car, my head swimming with booze. A quick drive into the city later we pulled in front of an ultra-modern apartment complex in the village. Connor slid into a spot with his name on it and soon we were walking through the gorgeous lobby and through the tall, silver doors of a private elevator to the penthouse. I regarded Connor with a skeptical eye as we rose, still not sure how much I could trust those honeyed words of his.

  The doors opened revealing a stunning, loft-style apartment. The décor was modern and bachelor-tasteful, the ceilings over a dozen feet high, and the windows looking out over the city. It was easily one of the nicest apartments in the city that I’d been to. Something caught my eye as I looked around: On one of the shelves I spotted a framed picture of a handsome young boy, no older than five. He had the same striking blonde hair and piercing blue eyes as Connor. But not wanting to look like I was snooping, I turned my attention elsewhere.

  I kicked off my heels and made a beeline toward the windows, pressing my fingers onto the glass as I looked out onto the crisscross of streets below, the lights of Brooklyn twinkling off in the distance just beyond the still waters of the East River.

  “Nice view,” I said.

  “Want to go out onto the balcony?” asked Connor as he stepped out of his dress shoes. “It’s a nice night.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Connor grabbed a couple of bottles of sparkling water from the tall, stainless steel fridge in the kitchen and headed over. He pulled open the balcony door, the fresh evening air rushing out to greet us. I stepped onto the balcony, taking a sip from the bottle of water. Connor stood next to me, his body so close to mine that I could’ve sworn a crackle of electricity sparked between us. I felt that same hot tightness return down below.

  “I still don’t know what to think of you, Connor,” I said, glancing down at the engagement ring on my finger.

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean, you’re saying all the right things, but at the end of the day you still pulled me into some crazy plan without my permission.”

  “I like to work fast,” he said, looking over at me with those stunning blue eyes of his.