Fake Me

by Bonnie Edwards

  A long-term single matchmaker had terrible optics for her business. Appearing faithful in a fake relationship might become a burden if an interested man suddenly appeared in her life, but she didn’t see that happening anytime soon.

  Her nervous flutters settled, and she gave Grady a quick nod. “I’ll do a walk around the exterior now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Knock yourself out. You can report what you find tomorrow.” With that, he shut the door, leaving her outside alone.

  “Okay, thanks,” she said to no one. She pulled out her phone to create a new file about the exterior of the building.

  She dictated whatever she saw. The structure was as she remembered it. The motel contained thirty units, fifteen to a side. The house was attached to the backside of the left wing with a short narrow breezeway through to the center courtyard where the pool and playground were. Grady would have his privacy.

  The motel office sat facing the center court and, in the distance, the ocean. The U-shape of the property made it perfect for families. Children could play in the pool within view of the motel room windows and the playground sat beside the pool, closer to the ocean. The fenced pool and play equipment were separated by a gate. Chain link meant children in both enclosures could be seen. Wooden benches ringed the pool fence and wooden loungers sat in groups of two, four and six. She assumed the pads were stored in the pool supply shed next to the office.

  “I hope the lounge pads have been replaced since I worked here,” she said into her phone. “Check for that in the morning.”

  If Grady did as he said and walked with her as they went from room to room in the morning, she’d have to speak clearly and include his comments when he spoke. She couldn’t afford to miss anything they talked about.

  She wandered down the left side units and found the ancient ice machine. “Get Grady to replace this old thing with a larger unit.” The vending machines were long gone. “Call a vending company to come out.”

  After that, the walk around went smoothly, and she felt validated about choosing The Landseer for her first hosting property. She’d want others, of course, but they would come with time. She had her eye on a B&B, but she wasn’t sure if Sandpiper Cottage could accommodate children comfortably.

  An hour later, back at home, she gathered her thoughts and her nerve and called Delphine to report on her meeting with Grady. The other woman had sent multiple texts asking how things were going. She knew that it had taken three days to get an audience with the big, shaggy grump, so she was antsy.

  Delphine answered immediately. “Well, how was my brother? Accommodating?”

  “Yes, after I talked my way inside. After that, he turned charming.” Farren felt heat rise in her cheeks at the lie. Good thing they weren’t on a video chat. Farren was a blushing liar. It was the only time she blushed, being raised with three rambunctious brothers had inured her to the ridiculous interest boys had in bodily functions and keeping score. And protecting their little sister from other rambunctious boys.

  Her high school years had been a nightmare. Until Denny Bracken in her senior year. For some reason, her brothers had approved of him. Maybe they’d known that his feelings for her were all surface and therefore no threat. Or maybe by then they were too involved in their own lives to keep watch over hers. College and new careers had overtaken her brothers and she’d finally been free of their oversight.

  She wondered what they’d think of Grady O’Hara’s lack of grooming. His hair hadn’t been cut in far too long, his clothes looked way past comfortably broken in and his socks had been unraveling before her eyes.

  Funny, once you see a hole in a sock, you can’t unsee it. She wondered if he’d toss the pair away. Maybe not.

  “How did he look?” Delphine asked in Farren’s ear. She set the phone on her small desk and turned on the speaker.

  “Fine. A bit shaggy, but he looked happy”—yes, his sister would want to hear that— “and well-fed. He’d grilled himself a steak.” That much was true, she’d smelled the barbecue when she’d climbed out of her car. Her mouth had watered, reminding her that she’d had a light supper. She opened her fridge to check the contents. Great, she had the makings for a salad.

  She pulled out greens and radishes and leftover chicken to shred for the top. Giving the fridge door a hip shot to close it, she set the food on the counter. “He’s fine,” she repeated when Delphine went silent.

  “I see.” Delphine drawled. “And how was he charming? What did he say that was so charming?”

  It was an odd question even for a nosy sister, which Farren now believed. Grady was right about Delphine’s matchmaking. The thought made her belly flutter. “He smiled a lot and joked. And he’s friendly. I don’t know why you say he’s grouchy. He was happy to see me.” She rolled her eyes at the blatant lie.

  “Really?” Delphine sounded doubtful, but Farren chose silence instead of reassurance. She might blush when lying but she knew babbling was a mistake. Lying to her brothers had made her an expert at silent lies of omission.

  After a moment, Delphine broke the silence, apparently convinced. “Good. Then you hit it off?”

  Farren shifted. “In a manner of speaking. We’re seeing each other in the morning, and he suggested lunch, too.” They’d have to be seen in public together for the gossip mill to begin its inexorable grind toward announcing their couple status. Once the gossip reached Delphine, she’d believe the charade. “I hope you don’t mind. I know he’s been through a lot, but a friendly lunch is harmless.”

  “Just don’t break his heart and we’ll be good.”

  There was no concern on that front. Farren was not a heartbreaker. More the heartbreakee. “How long are you in town?”

  “I can manage a few more days,” Delphine replied. “Then it’s back to the grind.”

  Surely Delphine would believe they were a couple by then. Farren could stop lying about finding the big brown bear of a man attractive. She made a mental note to let him know they had a lunch ‘date.’

  Chapter Five

  6:45 A.M.

  Grady grunted as he read his phone. Lunch with Farren. Huh. She’d sent the text last night, but he’d been asleep, and he never slept with his phone within earshot. It was a habit that Veronica had instilled. She’d insisted that a decent night’s sleep would be better than hearing about unsolvable problems at one a.m. And since his business was international, calls had indeed, come in during the wee hours.

  Once he’d instituted the change, his staff had learned that whatever they had to say could wait. Clients were another matter, but they had learned to check the timing of their calls. They’d all gone to voicemail after eleven p.m.

  He scrubbed his head and stared into the bathroom mirror over the sink. His fingers rolled over his jaw, scrubbing at the thick scruff. Tilting his head up he tracked the coarse hair down his neck.

  Had he planned to have lunch with Farren? No, he’d remember if he had. She’d left his house after they’d made their deal. She’d planned to walk around the exterior of the motel and make notes. This morning, they planned to check out the interiors of the units and then...nothing. He hadn’t set a time for the walk-through either. And he hadn’t invited her to lunch.

  He’d been in a hurry to get Farren out of his home and off his mind. He’d succeeded with one but not the other. Little Farren Parks had stuck in his head all night. Her earnest belief in this crazy idea made him curious. Even when he’d pointed out the flaws in her plan, she hadn’t blinked.

  Surely, she realized how little profit there’d be catering to people with limited discretionary income. Maybe she’d slept on it and realized he was right. But the determined glint in her eye last night made him doubt she had second thoughts.

  He texted back. “Be here at ten. Then we’ll walk the beach to the J Roger.”

  Farren didn’t respond, but he knew she’d be on time. She was too well organized not to show up. This was a big day for her.

  He ignored the crypti
c text he had from Delphine asking him what he thought about Singles Fest. Let her stew. She’d fall over dead if he answered her anyway. Even if he couldn’t bear to talk with her, he’d notice if his sister fell over dead. He shrugged. Delphine could wait. She’d made her move by sending Farren to him. Now, she’d have to be patient.

  Besides, he was sure Farren had spilled her guts to Delphine the moment she could. Yes. From the length of his hair to the holes in his socks, Farren would’ve talked.

  By ten o’clock he’d run his errands and returned home. He pulled into one of his two parking spots in front of his small veranda on the back side of the motel. From the front of the motel, his home entrance couldn’t be seen. He liked it. He just drove around back, and the place was all his.

  Over the veranda was a balcony with a view to die for. Looking north, from up there he saw no signs of habitation except for the occasional rooftop with a satellite dish. And sand dunes and miles of beach and ocean.

  A bright orange electric car sat neat as a pin in one of his two spots. The owner, likely Farren, was nowhere to be seen.

  He climbed out of his rental SUV and headed toward his front door. As he rounded the hood of the vehicle, he saw Farren on his lone plastic chair in the shade of the veranda. She had her eyes on her laptop screen until he stood right in front of her. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that she looked up, startled.

  Dressed as she was in cut-off shorts that hit mid-thigh and a white cotton blouse with the tail tied over her waist, she looked full Island Girl. Pretty, casual, and ready for anything beachy.

  He’d planned to stroll the beach on the way to lunch. He hadn’t walked the beach much since arriving. The breeze should clear his head, the salt air would invigorate him, and the company would be...stimulating.

  Gulls screeched overhead. No surprise. It was garbage pickup day. The sky scroungers paid attention and knew the schedule.

  “Hello,” she said in a bright, interested tone. She closed her tablet and smiled, holding out her hand to shake. “I’m Farren Parks.” He ignored her offered hand.

  “Very funny.” He pulled out his key and unlocked his door. He pushed inside and held the door open for her.

  Farren remained outside, mouth gaping. “You shaved and got a haircut.” Her gaze ran over his body looking for other changes.

  “Threw out all my old socks, too,” he quipped as he held up a department store bag that contained new socks and underwear. Not that she’d see the underwear, but once he’d taken a good look at what he was wearing under his jeans—well—he wasn’t an animal despite what she thought.

  “I’ll put this stuff away and be right with you. There could be a cup of old coffee left in the machine. Help yourself.”

  “No, I’m good,” she said faintly.

  He caught sight of himself in the hall mirror on the way to his bedroom. He stopped and turned back. She still stood framed in the doorway. “You didn’t recognize me, did you?”

  Farren shook her head. “I assumed you were a brother or maybe a cousin?” She framed it as a question, but it proved her confusion at his appearance.

  He hadn’t realized how low he’d sunk before he’d stepped into the barber shop. The barber, fresh out of barber college, had accepted the challenge with relish. He’d asked to take before and after pictures, but Grady had refused.

  No way did he want his before photos sold to a gossip rag.

  He left Farren, still looking surprised by the changes, and tossed his booty on top of his unmade bed. It was time he gave a damn again. He would change the sheets later and put out fresh towels in the bathroom. Maybe he’d run a load of laundry. Feeling brighter than he had in weeks, Grady returned to his guest as she waited by the main door to the house.

  He crowded her so he could close the door at her back.

  “Let’s get moving, I’ve got a lot to do today,” he snapped. She smelled great. Something light and spicy. He breathed deeply to enjoy her scent. “Go through the kitchen door, it’s closer to the motel office.”

  She started at the sound of his deep inhale. Her gaze cut to his as she moved off.

  “Right,” she murmured and strode quickly through the house. Almost as if he frightened her.

  It was just a sniff. Not as if he breathed fire. Clearly, he’d been alone too long if he’d begun sniffing women. He gave a mental shrug.

  “Look,” he explained, “I had to clean up or Delphine would never believe we’re dating.”

  “Okay. That makes sense. And, basically, that’s why I tacked on lunch today. I told her that when we met last night you made jokes and promised this walk-through and invited me to lunch.” She exited the kitchen door, giving him room to pass. Her scent, oddly enticing now, drifted by again, but he controlled his urge to lean in for more. He’d already scared her once.

  “I should have checked with you first about lunch,” she continued apologetically, “but when Delphine and I talked, it seemed natural that since I was claiming you and I hit it off and you’d been charming, that we’d go for lunch.” She pursed her lips. “I asked if she minded if we saw each other socially. I called it a friendly lunch.”

  He chuckled. “You told her I was charming?” That was a new way to describe the reception he’d given her. “She must have wondered about that.” He hadn’t been charming since Veronica had been his assistant for six months. And then, it was more Veronica laying on the charm.

  Looking back, he couldn’t pinpoint a time when he’d decided to make a play for Veronica. He’d gotten into the habit of laughing with her because Veronica had been funny. She’d had a great sense of humor and he’d fallen for it. She’d also been smart and efficient. Of course, he’d notice, which was what Delphine had counted on.

  “I wouldn’t know what Delphine wondered about. I let the lie hang in the air until she accepted it.”

  His chuckle turned into a full out laugh and she looked startled by the sound. He admitted it sounded like rust on hinges.

  “You’ve got a pair of steels, there.” The next time she let a comment hang, he’d know what she was doing. Farren Parks was a strategist. His chest warmed.

  “No, not steel balls.” She shook her head and smiled widely, her plump lower lip stretched and shiny. “What I do have are older brothers and if I wanted to get away with anything in Last Chance Beach, I had to learn how to be convincing. And babbling through a lie is a sure way to get caught.”

  “Silence works.” He nodded, intrigued, and pleased. Now who was laying on the charm?

  “Most of the time, yes,” she said with a sly grin. “Especially on a call. Once I was old enough to have my own cell phone, my life got a lot easier.” The mischief in her gaze caught him and he got a glimpse of the cheeky teenager she’d once been. Her hair had been tamed with a clip at the nape of her neck, but shorter wisps had escaped to dance around her face.

  “What would a sweet girl like you have to lie about in this small town? I can’t see you running with a street gang or looking for wild thrills with the local bad boy.”

  “See? You can be charming and funny,” she quipped.

  He raised his index finger skyward. “I know,” he exclaimed. “You were sneaking off to the local lovers’ lane.”

  She blushed. “Eventually. After my last brother left for college.”

  He laughed again. This time he sounded more natural, less rusty. “You must know every nook and cranny of the island.”

  She nodded. “I plan to share the most romantic and private places with my couples.” She cleared her throat. “Only if they reach a point in their relationship where romance and privacy come into play.”

  “You’ve given these plans of yours more thought than I expected. You want to be hands-on with your matches?” She’d considered so much more than numbers and profit versus expenses. And this was more service than a dating app offered.

  “I want to give them the chance to let their feelings bloom. Maybe those feelings will take root.”

&
nbsp; “You don’t think that’s intrusive.” His voice came out harsher than he meant. But this sounded so much like what had happened to him. Gentle persuasion. Manipulation. Betrayal of trust.

  She straightened at his tone. “Sometimes nature taking its course takes too long and most people, especially the second time around, need a prod.” She sighed and moved away, tossing back another comment over her shoulder. “I want to set the mood when people are clearly interested in each other. That’s all.”

  “And you’re an expert on what couples need to connect? And on second chances?”

  He caught up to her and saw her blanch. “Not exactly. But their time here will be short, and they’ll need to make the most of it. There’s nothing wrong with offering an unexpected bonus of a private, romantic spot.”

  WHAT HAD JUST HAPPENED? Grady had almost made her admit her lack of a love life. Not only had she not grabbed for a second chance at love, but she also barely recalled her first chance. Sure, she’d dated since returning home from college, but the men who’d asked her out had been tourists and looking for an easy, casual holiday fling. Some had only been looking for one-night stands and they held no appeal for Farren.

  So, she’d dated sporadically for a week here and there. When the local available men she knew left town none of them had come back. And the one she’d have left for didn’t ask. Denny Bracken had left for college without inviting her and she’d let him go without a fight.

  No biggie now, of course, because she’d moved on into her career. Until lately, she’d been content enough. But feeling the fire of ambition around Singles Fest had lit another fire, too. As Grady had so succinctly put it, at thirty-four her clock was ticking.

  When the news had broken a couple of months ago that Denny Bracken had two families simultaneously in adjoining states she’d been floored. Here she was, wanting one family of her own and he had two. Technically it wasn’t bigamy, but that’s what the locals were calling it.