by Rye Hart
It was Dylan who stood up and walked over to us, which surprised me.
I stood up and felt my body tense. I was half expecting him to return the favor from the other night, be instead, he took my hand and shook it, a smile on his face – a genuine smile. Surprised by how friendly he was being after I'd broken his nose – which was bandaged and slightly crooked – I didn't know what to say. I was more than a bit taken aback, to say the least.
“Hey, Carter,” he said. “We meet again; hopefully on better terms this time.”
Vanessa walked up behind Dylan and just stared at me, a blank look on her face. She looked over at Sofia and I watched as her eyes fell. There was a look on her face that was not just sad, but heartbroken.
“I'm sorry about the other night. And about the broken nose,” I said, cringing. “I appreciate you not pressing charges. It was just a bad night. And I genuinely apologize for my behavior.”
“Water under the bridge,” Dylan said, shrugging it off. “I could see you were stressed, I didn't take it personally. I probably shouldn't have put myself in the line of fire like that.”
Yeah, well maybe you should have taken it personally, I thought to myself. But I held my tongue for Vanessa's sake. I hated seeing her with him. And the more I saw them together, the more I hated it. The more I realized that she didn't belong with him – she belonged with me.
Vanessa was wearing a wrap dress that pulled in her tiny waist, and she looked fantastic as usual.
“You're looking beautiful tonight, Vanessa,” I said, finding that I couldn't meet her eyes. “I'm sorry I missed your speech the other night, I'm sure it was great.”
“There was no speech after you left,” she said, her voice cold. “Most everybody started to leave, in fact. Watching somebody assault an innocent man tends to have a chilling effect on a party.”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't know.”
There was an awkward silence as the two of us stared at each other. There was no much I wanted to say to her, but seeing her there with Dylan – a man better suited for her than I ever would be by every measure – made it difficult. The silence between us was growing progressively more strained and awkward. But, it was Dylan who finally filled it.
“Why don't you and Sofia join us,” Dylan said. “I've never really had an opportunity to speak with Ms. Gomez, though I admire your grandfather's work regarding immigration reform. And I've heard you're following in his footsteps?”
I looked over at the beautiful Sofia who beamed proudly and nodded. “Yes, sir,” she said. “I hope to one day run the organization, once my grandfather steps down, that is.”
“Excellent. I'm sure you'll work wonders and continue to do his good work,” Dylan said, motioning for us to follow him to their table. “Well then, I think we all have common interests, join us. Please.”
Vanessa put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Perhaps they'd rather enjoy their date alone,” she said.
“No, I'm good with joining you,” I said a little too quickly. “How about you, Sofia?”
She seemed game as well, and even though Vanessa looked uncertain, she sighed and didn't fight it any longer. We sat down at their table, and I found Dylan to be a lot nicer than I imagined him to be. He was very social, and obviously forgave me for punching him.
“So Carter, your stepsister and I were just talking about her political aspirations,” he said. “And maybe it's serendipitous that you showed up tonight. The reason I'm glad you joined us is because I know she's going to need her family's support over the next few years. Running for Congress is a huge step – ”
“You're running for Congress?” I asked, nearly choking on my water.
“Dylan thinks I should,” she said. “And truthfully, it's been on my mind for a while, I guess I just needed the push to make it happen.”
“Wow, I'm impressed,” I said. “Congrats, Vanessa. I always knew you'd be going places someday.”
The more I listened to her and Dylan talk, the more I realized that maybe I was making a mistake by intruding on their conversation. Maybe Amy was wrong about all of this. It sounded like Dylan could probably make all of Vanessa's dreams come true. And she seemed genuinely excited about it.
While Sofia and Dylan talked about immigration reform, I couldn't stop myself from stealing glimpses of Vanessa. She was also looking over at me, cautiously, and every now and then she'd give me a soft, heartfelt smile.
“Excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” she said, slipping out from her seat.
I watched as she walked away, her tight little ass swishing with every step, her long hair flowing behind her. I felt my body yearning for her. More than that though, my heart yearned for her.
Before I could stop and think, I stood up. “I think I need to use the bathroom as well actually.”
I slipped away, heading off in the direction I'd seen Vanessa go. And when I rounded a corner, there she was, standing outside of the restrooms, waiting her turn. As I approached, my footsteps slowing while my heartbeat accelerated, the door opened and a woman stepped out, letting Vanessa in. I quickly slipped in behind her and followed her into the bathroom.
“Carter, what are you – ”
She didn't finish her sentence – almost like she expected me to cut her off with a kiss or something more. When I didn't, she just stopped talking and stared at me, her expression drifting from annoyed to outright hostile.
I stared back at her, not quite knowing how to say what I wanted to say. Not sure how to express everything that was churning in both my head and my heart.
“It wasn't a coincidence you being here, was it?” she asked, finally breaking the awkward silence between us.
“No, not really.”
“Amy?” A smile spread across her face and she shook her head.
She knew, I didn't even have to answer her question.
“She just wants you to be happy, Vanessa,” I said. “As do I. But now I'm questioning everything I thought I knew walking in the door tonight. After seeing you two together, maybe Dylan does make you happy. I don't know when I've ever seen you smile that much. And I know that he can – ”
“Dylan?” Vanessa asked. “Seriously, Carter? You're jealous of Dylan?”
“Aren't you two on a date?”
“No,” she laughed. “Not at all. He genuinely is only interested in me in terms of my political future. In fact, I found out something very interesting about Dylan tonight, something very few people know.”
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“He's gay, Carter,” she said and laughed. “As in, he's got a serious boyfriend he plans to propose to within the next year. Wait, is that why you punched him the other night?” realization suddenly dawning on her face.
“God, I feel like an absolute asshole,” I said, burying my face in my hands.
Vanessa surprised me by coming up to me and pulling my hands away from my face. She leaned her forehead against mine and looked into my eyes.
“Carter, I'm still upset at how you handled yourself the other night,” she said. Her voice was soft, and her breath was warm against my skin. “Don't think I'm letting you off that easily. I'm still very pissed. And rightly so.”
She kissed me gently on the lips, and I took her face in my hands. I kissed her longer and harder this time, savoring the feeling of her lips against mine.
“I promise, Vanessa, I will make it up to you,” I said.
“Oh, I know you will,” she said with a wink. “But for now, we need to get back out there. Your date is probably wondering where you're at.”
“Pfft. I had a talk with Sofia earlier, she's only interested in me to get to you,” I said. “And not in the sexual way. She thinks you're a rising star and wants to hitch her wagon to yours.”
“Mmm look at us,” Vanessa said with a laugh. “The political power couple, huh?”
As soon as she said the words, however, she stopped. “I mean, not like couple-couple – ”
“Shhh, stop while you're ahead,” I said, kissing her one last time before we went back out to the table.
Without even realizing it, we were holding hands. Dylan eyed our intertwined hands and looked at us with a raised eyebrow. Vanessa pulled away as soon as she realized what was happening.
“So, the rumors are true,” Dylan said with a grin.
“What rumors?” Vanessa said, her face turning beet red.
“Sit down,” Dylan said. “And don't freak out so much. This isn't nearly as big a deal as you seem to think it is.”
I was starting to like him more already.
CHAPTER ELEVEN - VANESSA
“Daddy, I'm just stopping by for a second. I needed to pick up a file from your office before the meeting with – ”
I walked into his office and there, on his desk was a young Asian woman bent over and bare assed. My father was standing behind her, pants around his ankles. When he turned and looked at me, his face turned bright red and his eyes grew so wide, I feared they'd pop out of his skull.
I dropped my phone and it clattered to the floor as I fumbled with it in my hurry to close the door behind me. I turned and practically ran down the hallway, my stomach churning and the taste of vomit in my throat after seeing what I'd just witnessed. My father, a man who stood firmly for family values and railed against anybody and everybody for a lack of them, was banging his mistress. In his office. On his desk.
I heard the office door behind me open and close, and my father's voice called out to me.
“Vanessa, wait, it's not what you think. ”
Holding my hands up, I turned to him and said, “Oh, it's not? Because geeze, dad, it sure looked like you were banging someone who is clearly not your wife on your desk.”
“Okay, maybe it is what you think,” he said, scratching his face. His pants were still mostly unzipped, his tighty whiteys poking out of the zipper. I was absolutely disgusted, and would need some eye bleach to get that image out of my head. But more than that, I felt betrayed. For so long, I'd thought my father had a strict moral compass. He spoke so fiercely and passionately about values and the importance of loyalty and fidelity.
And to find out it was all a lie? It felt like I'd been punched in the gut.
“I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you,” I seethed. “You, of all people. After all the shit you've given Carter about his supposed immorality over the years – ”
“That's different,” my dad countered. “I mean, I'm discrete with my flings and don't shove them in everybody's face at least.”
“Oh, right. Just because you're discrete means it doesn't count, right?” I hissed. “At least Carter is honest about who he is. Does Andrea know about this?”
“No, she doesn't,” my dad said, sounding defeated. “And please don't tell her. It would kill her, Vanessa.”
“Yeah, well maybe you should have thought about that before you started fucking some tramp in your family's home,” I said. “And you want to know the worst part of this whole shitstorm, Dad? It's that I actually believed in you. I honestly thought you were the real deal when it came to practicing what you preach.”
I turned to leave before my dad could see me crying. I had a meeting with Dylan about my Congressional campaign ,something that before I'd walked in on him banging his mistress, I couldn't wait to announce to my father. But now, seeing what a hypocrite he was, I couldn't even bare to look at him, much less share my good news.
I stormed out of the mansion just as Andrea came home from doing some shopping. She looked at me with a concerned expression on her face.
“Are you okay, dear? Is it Carter again?” she asked. “What has he done now?”
“It's not Carter,” I said, wiping my eyes. “Believe it or not, your son is actually trying to get his shit together. He's taken a lot of positive steps, Andrea. You should be proud of him.”
Andrea looked pleased to hear that. Carter had gone to rehab – his own choice – and I couldn't have been prouder of him. I felt sorry for Andrea. But also felt torn between telling her the truth or letting my father get away with his lies. She was, after all, like a mother to me. She'd always been kind.
But I didn't have to say a word because my father's mistress came prancing out of his office, almost running toward the front door, barely even dressed, with my father behind her. His pants were still undone, and when he saw Andrea, his eyes grew large, his expression tinged with panic.
He tried the infamous line again, “It's not what it looks like,” but Andrea wasn't stupid.
At times, I thought maybe they were married on paper only, that there was no love between them, but the look on her face told me I was wrong. I walked away, leaving my father to clean up his own mess. I could hear them fighting as I walked to my car, and in the back of my mind I thought – she's going to go to the press. His career was over.
All this time, I was focused on anything but myself. I didn't allow myself to live my life the way I wanted because of him. Out of fear about the impact my decisions would have on him and his career. I didn't want to make him look bad. But he'd just done a damn fine job of that on his own.
Even though I was mad, I found myself laughing to myself as I drove away.
I was free. I was finally free to be me.
ooo000ooo
I stared at the headline, but couldn't bring myself to read the article. My father lost the election. Not only did he lose his chance at the Senate – and a future presidential run – but he no longer held his Congressional seat either.
No, he hadn't lost because of the affairs; that was just the tip of the iceberg. Once Andrea went to the press after learning he'd been cheating on her, it wasn't long before my dad's mistress, Kelly, had been paid for plenty of interviews as well.
And it turned out that while she was currently eighteen years old, apparently their relationship started well before she was legal. After that, even more women came out of the woodwork. Some of them were probably fakes, but some had compelling stories that made me believe what they said to be true.
My dad was in a world of hurt, and he deserved everything that had happened to him.
“It's a shame,” Dylan said as he handed me a cup of coffee. We were waiting at a nearby coffee shop for Carter to be released from rehab. “I really believed in him too.”
“A lot of people did,” I said, closing up the newspaper and putting it back on the table. “Do you think this will hurt my chances?”
“Not if I have my way it won't. The sins of the father shall not hurt the daughter,” he said. “Because you've been your father's biggest critic, I actually think this could work in your favor. You've been doing more interviews, speaking about how even you were fooled by the lies. I think you'll be just fine. The people feel for you, Vanessa, they don't hate you.”
“It's impossible to hate her,” a voice piped up from behind me. I smiled before I even had a chance to turn around and see his face. “She's fucking amazing.”
“Carter,” I said, standing up to hug him. “Watch your mouth.”
He kissed me, and I didn't even flinch. Yes, we were in public and some tabloids were talking about our relationship. But with Dylan's guidance and coaching, we answered those questions up front and honestly. Dylan had really helped us and put us at ease about being together.
And let's face it, our romance paled in comparison to my dad's ridiculous sexcapades. Ours was a boring non-story by comparison and the media chose to focus on him instead.
“How was it?” I asked, noting his shorter, cleaner haircut.
“It's rehab, what do you expect?” he said. “I'm not going to be fixed overnight, obviously.”
“No one ever is,” I said.
Even though his past drug abuse could cause health problems in the future, one of my many stances was on more supportive care for addicts and alcoholics. It was something I could now speak about based on my own personal experience, a message that resonated with a lot of people.
&n
bsp; “I'm proud of you, Carter.” I said. “I really am.”
“We both are,” Dylan added. “You went through a rough patch there and you've come out the other side. Congratulations.”
We sat down at the table, hand-in-hand.
“Enough about me,” Carter said. “I want to hear all about you. I saw you announce your intent to run. It was a damn good speech.”
“Yes, yes it was,” Dylan said. “Vanessa is the future of this country, Carter. And if you love her, you need to stay clean and stay out of trouble. Think you can do that?”
“I think I can handle that,” he said, kissing my hand.
For the first time, after so many excuses and promises, I knew he meant it. It might not always be easy and our life might not be perfect, but at least we were honest with each other, and we were together.
And at the end of the day – win or lose – that was all that mattered to me.
ROCK HARD FAKE GROOM
A SINGLE DAD, FAKE MARRIAGE ROMANCE
CHAPTER ONE – SARAH TILLERMAN
“Great, did you hear that?” Barney stared down the road where a man from next door to my bakery had just ridden off on his motorcycle. “You’re going to be hearing it night and day.”
I dipped my sponge and wrung it out so the suds turned foamy in my bucket. “This was the only location I could afford, besides, bikers eat cake too, right? Maybe I could do a specialty pastry inspired by leather and chrome.”
“I don’t think that would help.” Barney, my sister’s husband, had way too many opinions and loved hearing himself talk.
My sister, Angie, came out wiping her hands on her jeans. She’d been inside cleaning and stood back to look at my windows. “Great job, sis. You’ve got those windows looking new. I finished up inside and now you just have to fill the shelves with deliciousness.”
“Who’s that?” Barney shielded his eyes from the sun and I turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot in front of my business.
“That’s got to be the inspector.” I turned toward Barney, giving a warning glare. “You let me do the talking. It’s my shop, remember.” Barney had a way of shooting his mouth off and I really needed to pass inspection. I was so glad I’d gotten the windows cleaned and everything was officially scrubbed up and ready for the grand opening, bright and early on Monday - as long as I passed this inspection.