by Amy Brent
“That’s a lot of work for just a woman.” Archer snorted, and the disdain in his posh voice had me gritting my teeth. Not for me—I didn’t give a damn about that—but for Faye.
“Faye isn’t just anything.” I forced out the words, my tone gruff, but Archer didn’t hear the warning in them.
“She is a prime cut of female. I’ll give you that. She’s a ten. Well, better you than me,” Archer said with another chuckle. “I always said it was a sucker who let himself get tied down with a ball and chain. It’s all downhill after that, I say.”
“Is that what you say?” My jaw was clenched so tightly, it was hard to get words out, but I made myself shrug them off. For all his wealth, the man obviously didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Archer didn’t understand a damn thing. And how could he? I barely understood it myself.
I just shook my head. “Listen, if you see Faye anywhere, will you tell her I’m looking for her?”
“Sure thing, Sam. I’ll let her know,” the other man said, shooting me another grin. I turned and left before I could hear any more of his disparaging remarks. I really didn’t think Faye would approve of me giving the CEO of our recording company a black eye—no matter how much the prick deserved it.
I walked down the hallway, leaving Archer’s office behind as quickly as I could.
“Hey, Sam.”
I looked up at the friendly voice to see Rebecca, Archer’s assistant, walking the opposite way down the hall. She must have been heading back to Archer’s office. I almost pitied her, having to work for man.
I shot her a small smile and a wave but didn’t stop to talk. All of my thoughts were focused on Faye and Faye alone.
I was worried that I couldn’t find her. I was even more worried that she was going to try to back out of the plan, and that would be a terrible fucking idea. This was the only way I could keep her safe.
And she wouldn’t even let me do that! How the hell was this thing going to work if she kept avoiding me?
After another hour of scouring the studio with still no sign of her, it was pretty obvious to me that she wasn’t there or that she really didn’t want to be found.
Giving up on the hopeless cause, I wandered to one of the practice rooms. I was still filled with frantic energy and needed to be alone with my thoughts to at least try to get them untangled as much as I could before Faye crashed into me and tangled them all up again.
I picked up the guitar that was already waiting in the practice room and a notebook and pen before sitting on the edge of the small stage. There was a drum kit and keyboard set up behind me, all ready to be used, but for the moment I was happy to play solo.
I started slow, picking hesitantly at the notes, but before long I knew what I was doing. It was a new song, a song that drew inspiration from the overwhelming emotions that had been bombarding me over the past week. I needed to get them out in music. I needed to get them out on paper.
It felt like I was being choked by it all, and as I played, losing myself in the sweet, haunting melody, I finally felt like I was able to breathe again.
The song that flew from my fingertips was different than the normal rock and blues riffs I normally came up with, but there was still an edge to it. Because Faye had her own edges, I realized. It struck me then, what the song really was. It was Faye written into music: sweet and sultry, sexy but with an edge, complicated and confusing, flipping from hot to cold, major to minor on a dime.
I lost myself in the song, lost myself to playing Faye in the music and letting her draw every last note and melody out of me. I was so distracted by the music that I didn’t hear the door open. I didn’t hear the footsteps drawing closer. I hadn’t even realized anyone was in the room with me until Casey suddenly spoke.
“New song?” he asked. “I like it.”
I looked up at Moon’s drummer and my fingers froze on the guitar strings.
“How long have you been listening?”
“Long enough,” Casey said with a shrug, but he didn’t say anything else. He just walked over to the drum set and took a seat on the little stool behind it.
Casey glanced over, his green eyes for once serious as he twirled the two drum sticks, one in each hand. “Pick it up right after the chorus?”
I nodded, letting out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to make some comment, which would be just like him, and bent back to the guitar cradled in my arms.
I started playing the song again, slowly at first but picking up the rhythm as I went on. Casey played a few scattered notes on the bass drum first, then slowly added more beats on the tom, building the complexly as we played together.
“Hey, what the hell? Are you guys writing a new song without me?” Alice’s husky voice cut through the melody as she walked in. “Don’t get me wrong, I like it, but…what the hell?”
“Sam’s the one writing a new song,” Casey said, speaking up eagerly to throw me under the bus. I rolled my eyes and shot him a glare, but the other man didn’t even see it. “I’m just joining in. He needed me. Desperately.”
“Uh-huh. I’m sure he did,” Alice said. She gave me a sharp look before walking toward the small practice stage.
She reached out and ruffled my hair—just like she had been doing since I was twelve years old—as she passed by me before stopping in front of the keyboard. She pulled out the bench and sat down, adjusting the mic before finally give me a silent nod.
I started playing again, picking up where we had gotten interrupted, and Casey jumped back in a moment later. Alice just sat there for a long time, just listening as she nodded her head.
After a few minutes, she lifted her hands to the keys and started to play a few chords on the instrument, rounding out the song, making it sound even fuller and richer and more mysterious.
Slowly, she broke the chords up into individual notes, picking out the melody, the same melody I’d had running around in my head. I was swept up in the magic of the moment.
It was a long time before the music finally wound to an end and Alice turned to me, her gray eyes serious.
“Have you written any lyrics yet? I think this song needs to be on the album.”
My eyes widened but I just shook my head.
“No. Lyrics are your job.”
“This is your song, Sam.” Alice gave me a sharp look to go along with the sharpness in her words. “You write the lyrics. You sing the lead. And before you say anything, I know you can sing. I’ve heard you in the shower enough times. I can back you up with harmony if you want, but…this is yours.”
I stared at Alice for a long time before finally nodding, not saying a word. I didn’t have to.
With a deep breath, I turned back to the music. As always, it was there to catch me. It understood me. It was always easy.
Why couldn’t Faye be? The distracted thought caught me, and I couldn’t shake it off. I knew Faye wasn’t going to make any of this easy on me, but it was worth it. She was worth it.
Even though I knew it was a fake marriage, there was a part of me that was still filled with joy. I would finally get my chance to prove to Faye that she was wrong about me. I could prove to her that we could really be good together. I just had to find her first.
Chapter 12
Faye
“Come on,” Alice said, her hands placed firmly on her hips in that way I knew all too well. It spelled out in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of backing down.
I still shook my head.
“No.”
“Come on, Faye.” She suddenly pleaded, looking up at me with big puppy dog eyes. Well, her dirty tactics weren’t going to work on me. I was made of stronger stuff than that. “You can’t just hide away in here. That completely defeats the point of the whole thing.”
“No, Alice.” I huffed out the words, turning back to the papers spread out in front of me. “We have so much work to do. The record—”
“The record can wait
. The record will still be here when we get back. The record isn’t pregnant and grumpy and needing a break.”
I rolled my eyes in Alice’s direction. That was a low blow and even she knew it, but she didn’t look the least bit remorseful. If anything, she looked downright gleeful as she stood there grinning at me.
“Fine! But only for a few hours.” I said, finally giving in to her. Damn it. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew this whole thing was a terrible, terrible idea.
“Great! Let’s go! I’ll drive.”
“No. I’ll drive.”
“I’m pregnant, Faye, not an invalid. I’m driving.” Alice gave me a sharp look, and I didn’t argue again, namely because she had the car keys and was already walking outside. She liked to give up control just about as much as I did, which was to say not at all.
We got into Alice’s car and twenty minutes later we were pulling up to a chic-looking boutique in downtown Seattle.
I stared at the shop balefully. “Are you sure this is necessary?”
“You can’t get married without a dress, Faye,” Alice said as if it were the most logical thing in the world before stepping out, leaving me to fume in the car by myself. I couldn’t believe I had let myself get talked into this. There were about a million things on my list to get done, and going wedding dress shopping sure as hell wasn’t one of them.
The passenger’s side popped open and Alice was standing there, her look enough to call me a coward even if she didn’t say a word.
With a growl of resignation, I threw my hands up in the air and stepped out. I followed her to the door, my shoulders stooped in defeat.
“I still think this is ridiculous,” I muttered, but Alice still heard the bitter words.
“You know why this is important, Faye. It’s for your own good.”
I just nodded my head. I knew she was right. It didn’t make me feel any better. We walked inside, and I nearly cringed at the pastel pink walls and rows of glittery, beaded dresses.
I was prepared to turn around right then and there and walk all the way back to the studio if I had to, but Alice stopped me before I could take more than a step.
“Remember why we’re really here, Faye. This is important to keeping you safe.”
I drew in a deep breath, desperately trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach, and nodded. It was too late to get away anyway. The owner of the shop had already spotted us and she was making a beeline for us, like a general marching toward soldiers.
The woman was shorter than me by a foot at least and had cropped red hair that brushed her ears. She was wearing a white jacket and slacks like a suit of armor. Even her small kitten heals were white.
“Ooh la la. Look at what fortune has blown into my little shop,” the woman said in a thick accent that might have been Mediterranean. It might have just as easily been fake. It was hard to tell. She looked from me to Alice with large, piercing eyes behind thick coke-bottle glasses. “Who is the lucky lady?”
“This is Faye,” Alice said, taking a hasty step back as she threw me to the wolves. I shot her a glare over my shoulder. She winced in sympathy but didn’t look sorry at all. “She is the lucky lady.”
I nearly snorted at that last one but just stood there patiently as the short but intense woman examined me. I feel like she could have recited every measurement, my height and weight, and what I’d had for breakfast that morning with perfect accuracy.
“My, my, what beautiful coloring. Such long hair and pretty eyes.”
Pretty eyes that I was having to fight to stop from rolling to the back of my head.
“I’m sorry to rush you but we really don’t have a lot of—”
“Nonsense!” she said, cutting me off. “Lidia won’t be rushed!”
My eyes widened. “But I really do—”
“You just stay right there for a moment. Lidia will find the perfect dress for you. Don’t move.”
“No sparkles!” I yelled after her, but the woman had already disappeared behind layers of tulle and organza. A part of me hoped she wouldn’t come back and we could just sneak out. I was still thinking just that and looking back longingly toward the door when Lidia came back, beaming a smile at Alice first and then me.
When I was a little girl, I was never the type to play dress-up. I was always the CEO of some big business and got to boss others around. That was what I pretended. I never did the dream wedding thing that all little girls seemed to go through.
In fact, I’d hardly even thought about it since I had split up with Bryce. Our plan then had been to elope. Well, it had been my plan, but he’d seemed keen to go along with it.
But of course, back then, I hadn’t been going through with a fake wedding just to get a crazy stalker off my back before she cut my brakes or did something equally as terrible.
“Come. Come on now. You follow me back to the changing room,” Lidia said. I had just enough time to shoot Alice a wide-eyed look of panic before the short but surprisingly strong woman was hauling me after her.
“Have fun in there!” Alice called after me, and I could have sworn I heard laughter in her voice even though she kept a straight face. “And come out here when you have the dress on. I want to see!”
More like she wanted to laugh her ass off at seeing me strapped into some oversized, overpriced ball of sequins like a goddamned rodeo clown, all dressed up and sparkly.
After plenty of shoving from behind, Lidia finally wrangled me inside a large white room that didn’t have any mirrors. The only thing in it was a small raised stage and a rack full of frothy wedding dresses.
“Hmm, this one maybe? No, no. Too pink…” Lidia muttered to herself as she looked at each dress and discarded it, finally deciding on one all the way toward the back. “Ah hah! This one. This one is perfectly for her.”
For her. As if I wasn’t standing just a foot away watching on in absolute horror.
“Okay, turn around. Time to put on your perfect wedding dress.”
I snorted at her assertion but had no choice but to follow her orders. She barked commands like a general and expected them to be followed, quickly.
A few moments later, Lidia had wrestled me into a long dress. I didn’t know what I looked like because there weren’t any mirrors in the dressing room but I knew how I felt: absolutely ridiculous.
Lidia opened the door and gestured for me to follow her. Then She turned and gave me an impatient look.
“Well? Come on! You are the one who said you were in such a rush, no?”
“Yeah, get your butt out here, Faye!” Alice chimed in from around the corner. I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since walking into the shop and slowly made my way out of the dressing room.
I had to hold the thing up to my knees just to walk, and I was concentrating on the ground and not tripping over the damned dress as Lidia led me to the end of the room. She helped me up onto a circular pedestal and pulled the fabric of the dress back down, fluffing it before turning me around.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight, cringing as I waited for Alice to go off into peals of laughter, but I was only met with silence. That was somehow even worse. Slowly, I peeked my eyes open enough to glance over at her. She was staring at me, her jaw dropped in awe.
I looked at myself in the full-length, three-sided mirror and…gasped. It was beautiful! The dress was a dusky cream color that made my skin look golden, and it was thankfully sparkle-free.
But there was pure beauty in the simple lines of the fitted bodice with boning that ran down the front and the row of tiny buttons up the back. The skirt flared slightly at my hips, just enough to emphasize my curves in the most flattering way.
“Wow, Faye, you look…wow!” Alice spluttered as she stared the dress. I was still captivated by my reflection. I never dressed up like this, and it actually made me feel like a real fairy-tale princess—until I looked over at Alice and saw tears running down her face.
“Oh
my god, Al, are you okay?” I gasped, not in pleasure this time, but she just waved a hand in the air.
“I’m sorry. I’m fine. It’s the baby…the hormones…gah!” She burst into another round of tears, and I stood there helplessly for a moment. Lidia just nodded as if this whole thing was completely normal. She surreptitiously handed Alice a tissue she produced from her pocket.
Alice grabbed it gratefully, loudly blowing her nose before dabbing at her thankfully slowing tears.
“That one,” Alice said. “That’s the one!”
“I don’t know…”
“Of course you do,” Lidia said before I could even get all the words out. “You spend some time in it. Then you’ll know.”
“Wait, I…I can’t get out of this damn thing by myself.” I finished the muttered sentence in a near whisper. Lidia was already long gone. She wouldn’t have heard it anyway.
With a deep breath, I hitched the skirt up and waddled over to where Alice was sitting on a tiny white couch, taking a seat next to her. I leaned forward and gave her a quick squeeze before pulling back again.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to cry. I never meant to upset you,” I said softly, not sure what to say.
“I’m not upset.” Alice sniffled. “It’s just…you are so beautiful and the dress is perfect and you are definitely buying that one. Sam will die when he sees you in it.”
Her words made a flush rise to my cheeks. I hadn’t even thought of Sam seeing me in the thing, and now that I had, thanks to Alice, all the butterflies were back in a rush. I had to distract myself. If I kept going on like this, at any moment I would be just as teary-eyed as Alice, but for a different reason entirely.
“Listen, there was something I was meaning to ask you, and now is as good a time as any.” I sent her a tentative smile. “Alice, will you be my maid of honor? I know it’s just a fake wedding and all but—”
“Oh my god! Yes! Of course! Of course I’ll be your fake maid of honor,” Alice said wetly. She’d started crying all over again, and then we were both laughing and hugging each other. I knew it was all a farce, but this felt so real that I even wiped away a hint of a tear as we both regained our composure.