The Boss's Fake Fiancee

by Inara Scott

  Garth flashed her a look of surprise. “What do you mean?”

  Nan chuckled. “I’ve known you all your life. Do you really think you can hide it from me when you have something you need to say?”

  He sank down into the chair. It was time to tell her. But how?

  The events of the last few weeks buzzed through his mind. The article. Nan, assuming it was true. The pact with Melissa. The ring. The kiss…

  Waking up during the night at Seesaw, and finding her in his arms. Melissa laughing as they walked on the beach. The night of the auction, when she’d been so regal and proud, so beautiful he could hardly bear to look at her.

  Her voice, saying, “I love you...”

  Nan’s soft voice penetrated his reverie. “Why hasn’t Melissa been by this week? I called her twice. She said she’s been busy at work.”

  “I suppose that explains it,” Garth said hollowly. He wished he could tear his brain out of his head so the memories would stop bombarding him, but they just started coming faster than ever. Melissa in her office, feet on top of her desk, sipping her coffee as they talked. Melissa in his bed, her skin yielding gently under his fingers, her body opening like a flower.

  Melissa, telling him she was ready to say good-bye.

  “I’m not coming back to work. I’ll finish up my projects from home,” she’d said the night of the auction, when he dropped her back at her house. “You can email me after Nan meets with the doctor. I’ll find a new job on my own. I don’t want to see you again.”

  She hadn’t shed a single tear. Just raised her chin and stared straight into his eyes.

  I don’t want to see you again.

  That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For this to end smoothly? Simply?

  Then why did he want so desperately to do nothing less than turn around and beg her to stay? He’d had to use every ounce of self-control to keep himself from grabbing her and holding her tight. The voice in his head kept saying over and over again that it was for the best, that neither of them needed the pain, but somehow he hadn’t managed to avoid the pain after all. Because waking up every morning without her was its own special hell. And instead of getting better, every day it seemed to be getting worse.

  “But wouldn’t you know if she’s busy at work?” Nan asked. “Aren’t you the boss?”

  Garth shook his head. He gave a short, humorless laugh. “I haven’t been Melissa’s boss for a long time.”

  “What’s really going on?” Nan asked gently.

  Han Solo stood up on his haunches, scratching Garth’s knee in an obvious request for attention. Without thinking, Garth picked up the little dog and put it in his lap. “I don’t quite know how to say this,” he hedged.

  That much, at least, was true. He had absolutely no idea how to tell Nan he’d perpetuated the biggest lie of all time.

  “Something’s gone wrong?”

  He nodded.

  “Something bad?”

  He nodded again. Something caught his throat in a tight grasp, and speaking was suddenly out of the question. He tried clearing his throat but no sound emerged. The thing that had him in its grasp was squeezing now, and the pressure was doing the oddest thing: the backs of his eyes were starting to tingle and burn.

  He rubbed a hand over his face, struggling for calm.

  “That’s what love does to you,” Nan said after a moment. “Turns your world upside down and backward.”

  Garth shook his head. How could he explain to her that wasn’t it? This wasn’t about love. This was about regret and frustration. And sure, a little bit of sentiment. Even he wasn’t immune to that. But love?

  He took a deep breath. “Nan…you see…” The words slipped away like minnows, darting though his lips. Meanwhile, the deep strumming of his heart made it feel like the overstressed organ might burst in his chest.

  “Melissa and I…I don’t think we are going to…she and I…”

  “Oh no. Stop right there,” Nan interrupted as he trailed off again. “You’ve got to go after her. That’s the only thing for it. You’ll mess up from time to time, Garth. Every man does. That’s when you pick yourself up by your bootstraps and say you’re sorry.”

  He froze. “No, Nan, that’s not it. I mean, yes, I did mess up, but not the way you mean.”

  She continued, unconcerned by his obvious discomfort. “Garth, I’m not sure you ever appreciated just how alike you and your grandfather were. But sometimes I look at you and it’s like I’m looking at an old movie of him.”

  “Really?”

  She smiled. “Really. Like now. You can’t imagine how much he struggled to tell me he loved me. Or how close he came to walking away, because he was scared of what might happen if I ever left him.”

  “Nan, I can’t do it.” He discarded any hope of trying to tell Nan the truth, and blew out a shaky breath. He’d never mastered a conversation with her in the past, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. “I can’t.”

  She fixed him with a steely eye. “Nonsense. You wake up every morning and imagine her with you, don’t you?”

  Garth closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes.”

  “At the end of the day, you want to tell her everything that happens. You know it won’t mean anything until you share it with her.”

  He thought about ThinkSpeak, and the plans they’d made that week, and how he longed to tell Melissa about them, and find out if she thought they were moving too fast or too slow.

  I don’t want to see you again…

  “Yes.”

  “The thought of loving her is terrifying you because you know how badly it will hurt if you lose her.”

  He brushed a hand across his eyes, not even bothering to nod, because she was right and she knew it. They both knew it.

  Even though he’d only been five years old, he still remembered the pain of waking up and expecting to see his parents, and remembering anew each morning that they were gone. That they were never coming back. And now he couldn’t help but think, what if he let himself love her, and then Melissa left him, too? What if she changed her mind or moved on? What if something happened to her like it had to them?

  “You learned about pain too early,” Nan said, breaking into his thoughts. “It wasn’t right for a child to stare in the face of death and try to make sense of it. Shutting things out worked for a while—I understand that. You have challenges some people don’t—and gifts they don’t, either. Now you’ve got a chance for something more. Love changes your life, Garth. It brings terror and joy all in the same breath. And if you think loving Melissa is frightening, just wait until you have a child.”

  He jerked in his seat. A child?

  “But that doesn’t mean you run away. Your capacity to love is going to grow and grow until you think you can’t love any more—and then you’ll love a little bit more.” Nan continued her relentless assault, her words etching themselves across his mind even as his stupid, traitorous imagination painted a picture of Melissa, holding their child in her arms. “Everyday, you’ll look at the love you’ve been given and know you’ve been blessed. And you’ll hold it even tighter because you know you could lose it.”

  As she had lost her daughter…

  “How did you keep going?” Garth asked, his voice a strangled whisper.

  Nan reached over to squeeze his hand. “I had you.”

  The last bit of resistance melted away. If Nan could keep going in the face of such pain, how could he be too scared to even try? Garth slumped in his chair. “It’s too late.”

  “Nonsense,” Nan said crisply. “I don’t know what you did to Melissa, but it’s plain you messed up and you’re going to make it right. It’s going to be hard and scary but you’re going to do it. Because the risk of losing her isn’t worth the pain of knowing you didn’t even try to hold on to her.”

  He paused, considering her words, knowing they were true. A single conclusion rang in his mind, excruciating in its simplicity.

  He would have to win her back.<
br />
  It wouldn’t be easy. He hurt her and made her think she wasn’t worth it. But she was, and every fiber of his being knew it was true. Now, he’d have to make sure she knew it, too.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Melissa stared into her microwave, watching the frozen square of lasagna spin slowly on the glass plate. The thought of eating it made her gag. Maybe she’d just forget about it and have another pint of ice cream instead. That, and a few more aspirin.

  Or maybe just a glass of wine.

  She glanced at the clock. Just past noon. Maybe she’d wait a few hours before she opened the wine.

  It was Saturday. The fourth day—not that she was counting—since she’d told him good-bye. No one knew what had happened. She’d told her co-workers at Solen Labs that she was sick and needed to work from home, even as she began to tie up some of her projects. She’d conferenced in for a few meetings. Garth, she noted, was absent from all of them, even the ones he had planned to attend.

  “Where’s the boss?” her friend Hal had asked her yesterday, in a staff meeting she’d attended by phone. “Is he sick, too?”

  “You know him,” she’d said with a laugh, making light of the question. “Never around when you need him.” But the wondering about him never ceased. Was he avoiding her out of basic courtesy, or did he share some of this heart-wrenching pain? Had he already moved on, forgotten about the ring that she hadn’t been able to remove from her finger? Did he regret pushing her away, or had he found a way to bury the emotion, like all the other feelings he’d squelched along the way?

  The front door buzzed. Melissa glanced at her watch. Tori had said she might stop by, but she was supposed to be looking at office spaces for her new law practice until one.

  Melissa pushed the intercom. “Yes?”

  “’Lis, it’s Brit. Can you come down for a minute? I need to show you something.”

  Though she knew it had to have been hard for him, Brit had been remarkably restrained since the night of the auction. He hadn’t left for Aruba, like she’d suggested, but he hadn’t made any new, dramatic, “I’ll kill him” sort of pledges. No worried hovering or nagging. Just a quiet, concerned voice on the phone each morning. Do you need anything? Can I come by tonight?

  What would he do when he found out the truth? That the engagement was over, and Garth wanted nothing to do with her? She dreaded that moment almost as much as she dreaded the prospect of waking up each morning without Garth’s arms around her, or his lean body pressed against her side.

  Melissa frowned. “Why don’t you come up?”

  “I can’t. Just come down.”

  He sounded odd. Happy or sad, she couldn’t tell. “What’s going on?”

  “’Lis.” He put on his big brother voice. “Come down.”

  “Fine.” She fluffed her bangs and grabbed her keys, waving at a neighbor as she made her way down the steps. When she pushed open the door her mouth fell open. “What the…” She sucked in a breath. “Garth? Mom? Tori?...Jess?!”

  A small crowd had gathered around her stoop. Garth stood in the middle at the bottom of the steps. He held a small bouquet of pink roses in his hands. Just the sight of him—tall and broad-shouldered, his granite eyes fierce and strong—made her quiver, even while she told herself not to react to his presence.

  He’s done with you, remember?

  To one side of Garth stood Nan, beaming happily. Jess stood at Nan’s arm, pink tips of her hair gleaming. On the other side of Garth were Phoebe, John, Brit, and Tori. Ross and Joe were behind them. Ross’s kids—Luke, Matt, and Julia—clustered around him. Felicity held Delia in her arms. Tori’s eyes were suspiciously bright.

  “I don’t understand.” Melissa stood still, blinking rapidly. “Garth, what’s going on?”

  She had a terrible, sinking feeling in her chest. Nan must have had a relapse, or something had gone wrong at work. This had to be an act Garth was putting on for someone’s benefit. But why had he assembled her family? Why was Jess here? And if Nan was so sick, why did she look so relaxed and proud?

  A stranger stepped forward. He was small and stout, and wore a short-sleeved, plaid oxford shirt and khaki pants held high on his stomach with a thick belt. In one hand, he held a notebook, which he flipped open. “Ms. Bencher,” he said, “I’m Stanley Hartwaddle.”

  “What?” Melissa forced her gaze away from Garth, who was staring at her with an uncanny intensity. “Who?”

  “Stanley Hartwaddle. I write for the New York Star Herald.”

  “Oh!” Melissa vaguely recalled his name attached to some articles about her and Garth. “Um, what the heck are you doing here?”

  “Your fiancé asked me to come down and help.”

  “Help?” Melissa looked back at Garth, and then around the circle of grinning faces. Amid her confusion, a tiny shred of hope began to blossom in her chest.

  “Yes, help.” Stanley looked down at his notebook. “Mr. Solen has asked me to be the master of ceremonies for this event.”

  “This event?” Melissa cocked her head in confusion. “What event? Why isn’t Garth speaking for himself? And why would he call in the press? You’ll forgive me, but he hates the press.”

  “Apparently, that’s part of the reason I’m here. He’d like for you to understand that he is willing to make this public in any forum you choose.”

  Melissa darted a look at Garth, and then glanced around the circle. “I’m not sure I have any idea what’s going on, but okay. Go ahead.”

  Stanley cleared his throat. His carriage reminded Melissa of a medieval page, reading an important announcement from a scroll. “Mr. Solen has drafted a letter, which he will read in a moment. However, in light of his concern that he may lose his voice, or experience some emotional calamity which may make it difficult to speak, he has asked me to stand by and be prepared to step in as needed.”

  “Okay,” Melissa said slowly. She stared at Garth, but directed her words to Stanley. “Why don’t you tell him to go ahead.”

  Stanley nodded. “Mr. Solen,” he said, with a regal gesture toward Garth. “I believe you may start.”

  Garth, who had been standing in uncharacteristic stillness, clutching the roses in his hand, stepped forward. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He cleared his throat, and began to read.

  “‘My dearest Melissa, you know I am not good with words, particularly in a situation like this. One in which my very heart, my life, is on the line. So I’ve asked our friends and family to help me.’”

  Melissa froze. Garth’s gaze flickered from the paper to her face. She could feel the emotion spilling out from him in an intensity that transcended the physical distance between them.

  “‘I hope you don’t mind that they are here, or that I have prepared this letter ahead of time. You know me well enough to understand how difficult this is, and how much it scares me to say these words. But in the past three weeks you have changed me. I thought I was destined for a life of solitude and loneliness. You made me realize I could have more. When you told me you loved me, I panicked. I thought it would be better to lose my chance at happiness than to risk losing my heart. But I was wrong.’”

  Melissa fought a wave of tears. She raised one hand to her mouth as her chin trembled.

  “‘I love you, Melissa. I love you with every beat of my heart and breath in my lungs.’”

  Garth paused and took a deep breath. He lowered the paper, and Melissa felt him caress her with the sweep of his gaze. When he spoke again, it was as if no one else was present, and he was speaking right into her heart. “You must know how sorry I am that I was too scared to say this before. I’m sorry that I did not know how to make sense of the feelings in my heart. I am even more sorry for any hurt I may have caused you. Nothing matters to me now but you, and my hope that you might be willing to give me a second chance.”

  Garth stopped. Stanley gestured toward John and Phoebe. “Mr. and Mrs. Bencher, I believe you are next.”

  Melis
sa brushed aside the tears spilling down her cheeks and turned to her parents.

  “This morning, Garth called us,” Phoebe said, smiling at Melissa. “He explained everything that had happened, and apologized for not coming to us sooner. Then he asked John for permission to marry you. For real.”

  Melissa gave a shaky laugh. “And?”

  “I said yes.” John looked back at Garth. “I admit I was skeptical, but this guy is truly in love with you. It didn’t take much for us to change our minds.”

  “We hope you’ll give him a second chance, Melissa,” Phoebe said.

  Stanley gestured toward Ross and Joe.

  “Garth called us right after he spoke to Dad,” Joe said, pushing his untidy hair out of his face and straightening his glasses. “He apologized for lying, and told us how he needed our support.”

  Ross gave Garth a meaningful look. “I told him he had a second chance, but not to count on a third.”

  Melissa gave a watery laugh. “Thanks, caveman.”

  Ross and Joe moved back and Tori and Brit approached Melissa. By this time, a small crowd of bystanders had begun to form. Garth didn’t seem to notice, or care. He was focused on her, flowers still tightly gripped in one hand, eyes never straying from her face.

  “Melissa, when I introduced you to Garth, I have to admit I had dreamed that maybe, possibly, you might be the one to bring him out of his shell.” Tori beamed through her tears. “I really, really hope you give him another chance, because I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have for a sister.”

  Brit scowled, but Melissa saw a smile lurking in his eyes. “I told him he’s the luckiest guy on earth,” he said. “I also told him next time I’ll give him a nose to match mine.”

  “My turn!” Nan chirped from the other side of the circle. “Melissa, dear, I can only tell you this: my grandson is far from perfect, but he’s going to love you more than you can imagine. You’ll have to help him sometimes, because he’s going to do stupid things, but I promise, it will be worth it.”

  Jess nodded. “Yeah. What she said. He’s not really a jerk. He just acts like one sometimes.”