Fake Marriage Act

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Fake Marriage Act Page 21

by Lulu Pratt


  “Hello?” I say casually as I answer the phone.

  “Apparently there are rules that say not to call the next day, but I decided to break them. Just this once,” he says, speaking into the other end of the phone. His voice carries that same effortless charm, and even as he speaks, I feel the need to keep typing. He is a fuel for my inspiration.

  “I’m sorry, but who is this?” I reply, trying my best to sound like I mean it. I’m not usually this playful, but he brings it out in me.

  “Oh, sorry. It’s the plumber. I’m calling about that busted pipe that you wanted me to fix. I wanted to know what time I can come over and service it.”

  “Oh, that pipe?” I say with fake realization. “You know what? It no longer needs servicing. Yeah, I thought it did, but I checked it out when I got home last night, and it is actually in perfect working order. Sorry to get your hopes up.”

  “I think you mistake me. My hopes weren’t up. It was you I was doing it for.”

  “Is that right?” I smirk, leaning back in my chair as I do. I’m glad that he is on the phone and not here in person because I wear the biggest, goofiest smile on my face. I’d hate for him to see it and know what effect he has on me.

  “That’s right. So, if you want me to come over and double check that for you, now is that time. Otherwise, you might find me very hard to book in again.”

  “Oh no,” I gasp. “I guess I better make that booking. I’d hate to ruin any chance I had of requiring your services again.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Through the whole charade, he hasn’t broken character and has kept that same cool arrogance that he wears. If it wasn’t for how teasing I am being, I might have held it against him.

  “So, Mr. Plumber. Now that we have that figured out, what can I do for you?”

  As I speak, I lean across to my laptop and type out snippets of the conversation we are having. Some of it is too good to waste.

  “In all seriousness,” he says. “I want to see you again. I had a good time last night, believe it or not.”

  “How generous of you,” I say.

  “I can be. I’m going to assume that you had an okay time last night, too. If just okay. “

  “Maybe,” I say, biting my lip. I am going to go out with him, of that I am sure. But still, I have to play with him just a little more.

  “What if I told you I had a proposition for you? Something I can’t ask over the phone.”

  “Really?” I ask, sitting up. I’m curious now, despite how coy I am acting. What could he possibly want to ask me?

  “Really, really. I promise that it will be worth your while.”

  “Well, if that’s the case, I guess there’s no way I can say no,” I relent. “Where and when?”

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll text you the time and place.” He says in his usual, short manner. It’s odd, but I felt almost like a client in the way he asks me. As if it’s a business dinner, rather than a date. What could he possibly want?

  “Deal,” I say, and I hang up the phone the moment I do.

  I know that if I stay on the line any longer, I might say something I regret. And besides, I could feel the power slowly going in his favor, and I wanted to realign it in my direction.

  As I put down the phone, waiting for his text to come through, my heart beats faster and faster and my mind races. Despite myself, I am incredibly excited to see him again. I just hope that I am able to exercise the same level of self-control that I had last night. But having said that, I’m not ruling out anything.

  Chapter 9

  BLAKE

  I can’t believe how beautiful she looks. I have spent the last two days trying my best to picture her in my mind, and I was certain that I had a pretty good image there. But seeing her now, in the flesh, I have to contend with the fact that I wasn’t even close.

  I asked Carrie to meet me in the lobby of the Ritz hotel. It’s an expensive hotel in downtown L.A., and I asked her there for a reason. Since she said no to coming back to my house two nights ago, I’ve been going over the night in my head. Over and over. I am convinced that my error was assuming that she would be comfortable in a stranger’s house. I know how some women are, and I shouldn’t have assumed she would be comfortable coming home with me.

  So now, in the Ritz, with a room booked upstairs, I am sure that I will be able to convince her to spend the night. The hotel is like a safe zone, where she won’t feel threatened or uncomfortable.

  I stand in the back of the lobby, watching her wait for me, and I am forced to reevaluate everything that I thought I knew. She is just so damn gorgeous. She wears a tight strapless red dress that hugs her body and flows down to and covers her ankles.

  Although she isn’t curvy, she is exceptionally fit, and I can see the muscles in her legs and ass from where I stand. And even though she doesn’t have huge breasts, they are round and look like they would fit perfectly in my hands. She is perfect. More than enough woman for me.

  I have to shake my head and cut those thoughts from my mind as I feel my pants tighten. I need to control myself. I need to think clearly if I’m going to have her. Thinking with my cock isn’t going to get my anywhere.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk up to her slowly.

  “Carrie,” I say as she spots me. “Would it be too much to tell you how breathtaking you look tonight?”

  “Usually, I would say yes,” she says with a smile. “But considering how good I look tonight, I’ll let it slide.”

  As she says this, I can see her cheeks turning slightly red. She may talk a big game, but she is nervous.

  “Shall we,” I say, as I gesture to the restaurant across the lobby. Even though it’s a hotel restaurant, the Ritz features a very fancy and very highly recommended restaurant.

  “After you,” she says with a smile.

  I lead her through the lobby to the restaurant, where the hostess does the rest. She seats us, and I ask for their most expensive bottle of red wine. She nods her head and shuffles off, leaving the two of us alone.

  “Nice place,” Carrie says as she looks around the restaurant. I can see from the expression on her face that she is quietly impressed. Like I said, it’s a very nice establishment.

  “Wait until you try the food,” I respond. “I won’t be surprised if you want to order a second meal.”

  “Will that be a problem?”

  “Not at all. Just so long as you let me try it.”

  “I don’t think so,” she says with a chuckle. “You’re going to have to order your own. I don’t share.”

  “Even if I ask nicely? I can be quite persuasive, if given the chance.”

  She laughs at this, but her cheeks redden at the implication. Carrie likes to pretend she’s immune to my charm, but her face betrays her.

  “Yeah,” she says. “We’ll see about that. I’m not convinced just yet. But maybe if I’m in a generous mood, I will see it in my heart to let you try some.”

  “Well, I can always bribe you,” I say. “If that’s what it takes.”

  “By all means,” she says, smiling. “I could use the cash.”

  “Who said it was going to be money that I bribed you with?” I say, changing my tone to a serious one.

  “Oh?” She responds, pretending to be affronted by my change in pace. “Is this why you asked me here? I have to admit, I’ve been curious about what it is you’re going to propose. You might say you’ve been in my thoughts all day.”

  “I like to hear that,” I say, unable to hide my smile. As before, the two of us have instant fire. It is a wonder that we don’t get burned. “But I suppose you want to hear what it is I invited you here for?”

  “So much,” she responds, smirking slightly as she does.

  “Well, I was going to wait until after dinner, but here it goes. As you know, it was my high-school reunion the other night. There, I was subjected to seeing all my old friends again, and although I feel like I’ve outperformed them in certain aspects of my
life, my career for example, there is one thing they have I am missing out on.”

  “That was?” She asks, leaning forward. She looks a little confused.

  “A family,” I say. “Children to be more specific. Despite everything I have done, everything I have accomplished, I don’t have any children. I have been thinking about this for a while, and after that night at my old school, it confirmed that I do want children. I can’t stop thinking about it. I think it’s about more than just having a kid, too, but having someone to pass on my legacy to. Someone to help grow and see grow. There is something so pure about it, so real. I make movies, but they won’t last. A child will. You see what I mean?”

  “Okay,” she says uncertainly, looking at me like she doesn’t understand. “And where do I come in?”

  “Don’t freak out, but I’ve been thinking. Well, I’m just going to come out and say it. Carrie, I’d like you to have my baby.”

  Chapter 10

  CARRIE

  “Excuse me?” I say, unable to hide the surprise on my face.

  Any game that I have been playing, any attempt to try to assert my dominance has been immediately blown out the window. I have never been so caught off guard.

  “Hear me out, Carrie” he hurries, taking my hand. I let him, barely even noticing. I am still in shock. “I am willing to pay you, of course. A rather large sum. And I’m also willing to do anything that is needed to make the process as easy and comfortable as possible for you.”

  “Oh, how generous,” I say quietly, still having trouble processing all of this. I’m not even sure if I’m being sarcastic. It’s like a semi-trailer to the face as I work to take in his proposal.

  “Look, I may have come off a bit over the top there. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

  My face must be betraying my feelings. Blake is clearly aware that he has come on strong. Although, it’s not like there’s a subtle way to tell someone you want to get them pregnant.

  “I know that I want a family,” he says. “Not a wife or anything, but a child of my own. And I felt something between us the other night. A spark. And even tonight I’ve felt it. Tell me you haven’t, too?”

  I have felt it. Of course, I have. From the moment we met, I’ve felt that spark, and tonight, as soon as I saw him, I could feel that same wave of unbridled enthusiasm hit me. I am able to be myself around Blake like no other man before him. But still. Does that mean I am ready to have his baby?

  “I don’t know, Blake,” I say hesitantly. “It’s just that I don’t know you. And yes, I’ve felt the spark, too.” I hurry as I see him about to speak. “But don’t we need more than that?”

  “How come?” He responds seriously. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Or even date me. I’m asking you to carry my baby. And like I said, I will look after you during the entire process and make sure that you are paid enough that you never want for money again. I want it to be as comfortable and as little of an inconvenience as possible for you.”

  “Such a gentleman,” I say scathingly, not even on purpose. It is just the way he is asking me that makes me feel like a vessel, rather than a person. Sure, he says that he chose me because of the connection between us. But is that the only reason? Or am I just sex to him?

  “Don’t get upset,” he says, and I suddenly become aware of the fact that he is still holding my hand. “I mean, it’s not like that. I like you, Carrie, I do. And I will prove that to you every day that you go through this. We will do it together, every step of the way. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think that you were the perfect woman for it.”

  “And after the baby is born? What then?”

  “You will still be involved as much as you like,” he says, then he pauses with a frown.

  “Only I won’t be the mother,” I say, catching on quickly. “You’ll let me see my baby, but I won’t live with you or have any say in its upbringing.”

  “Of course, you will,” he hurries. “But not to the same degree that you would usually. You would still be the child’s mother, but I would be the father. The baby will live with me and be raised by me. But you will be able to visit whenever you want, and I will still ask you for advice.” He finishes. “So? What do you think?”

  “I think I need to go to the bathroom.”

  I pull my hand from his and hurry to the bathroom. I don’t even notice the other people in the restaurant as I walk past them. I have tunnel vision, and I head for the bathroom like a woman on a mission.

  I just need some fresh air. Or, unable to get that, some space away from Blake to think clearly. It is all so much and totally unexpected. I never, in my wildest imagination, thought that this is what he is going to ask. It is crazy.

  I stumble into the bathroom and head straight for the sink. The moment I reach it, I turn on the faucet and let the cold water run into the sink. I run my hand through it, relishing its cool feel. Only once I can see straight again do I splash the water on my face, cooling myself down.

  I stare at myself in the mirror and looked back at my reflection. As I do, the idea very slowly starts to grow on me. Well, not the idea itself, but the outcome of it. The money. I hate that I’m in a position where the need for money can dictate my life. But I am, and there’s no way around that.

  Nine months. If I give him nine months, it could totally transform my life for the better. I hate where I live. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t have enough time to write. This offer could change all that. This offer could change me.

  I stare at myself for a few more moments, letting the offer slowly take hold. As I feel myself cooling down, I begin to see the merits. And a few minutes more of staring is enough to convince me.

  I’m going to do it.

  But I am still not sure. The only reason that I am even considering it is because it’s Blake who asked. If it were anyone else, I would tell them to take a hike. But it’s Blake. It’s someone who I was honestly already picturing myself with, before this offer arose. It is because of that and that alone that the situation isn’t as cut and dry as it might seem.

  I walk back to the table in a much better state than I left it. My back is straight, and I’m in control. As I slide back into my chair, I am delighted to see that my glass is full of red wine.

  I pick up the glass and take a long sip, relishing in the way that I am making Blake sweat. He watches me the whole time, and only when I am done and wipe my lips, do I speak.

  “I need a few days to think about it,” I say simply.

  “Of course,” he says, “I wouldn’t expect you to say yes to something so big right away. I want you to take this seriously.”

  “But that’s not a no,” I assure him. “It’s a maybe. I just can’t make this kind of decision on a whim. You understand?”

  “I do,” he relents, evidently seeing the logic in my reason. “So, I won’t put any more pressure on you, okay? In fact, I won’t mention it again for the rest of the night. How does that sound?”

  “That sounds perfect. What you can do is convince me, quietly, that it’s a good idea. You know, through your actions as a gentleman and all that.”

  “Who says I’m a gentleman?” He quips, that sly smile returning.

  “Careful,” I respond, unable to hide my smirk.

  “Right, a gentleman,” he says, coughing dramatically as he pretends to clear his throat. “So, are you ready to order?”

  “Maybe,” I say as I look down at the menu. “What’s good here?”

  Chapter 11

  BLAKE

  The two of us have just finished eating dessert. We shared a slice of chocolate cake. The cake was Carrie’s decision, and as she ordered it, I got the sense that it was a favorite of hers. I made a mental note to always have chocolate cake in the house.

  She eats the final slice and sucks the cake off the spoon. The whole time, she watches me with those eyes. She knows what she is doing to me through her actions, and I can tell it gives her great pleasure. But I’m okay with it. All I can think a
bout is what I am going to do to her later.

  I have managed to avoid talking about my proposal, too, just as I had promised. And the crazy part is, it isn’t even that hard. As soon as I told her that I would no longer mention it, I didn’t. As simple as that. And by the time we ordered our food and it came out to us, the proposal was all but forgotten.

  It’s a testament to how perfect we are for one another and to how well we get along. That’s why I have chosen her to be the surrogate, assuming she says yes. Not only do I think that she will make a perfect second half, I also see her as someone I won’t mind spending the next nine months around. Not to mention what happens after we have the child.

  But I can’t think on that now. I watch her slowly swallow the cake, her eyes still on me, and I calculate what I have to do and say to get her up to my room. Because tonight, I am having her, much the same way she just had that cake.

  “So, I told you that the food here was good,” I say as I lean back in my chair.

  “And I’m very impressed. I should never have doubted you really. Is that where you disappeared to for a few minutes earlier? You were in the kitchen cooking my meal? You really are so talented.” She pats her plump lips with a napkin.

  “Not tonight, no. But would you believe me if I told you I taught the chef everything she knows?”

  “I wouldn’t,” she says instantly. “Although I have doubted you before, and that hasn’t worked out for me in the past. So maybe I should be inclined. And if that’s the case, then again, very well done.”

  “If you think the food was good, you should see the rooms here,” I say. It is a risk, and there is a chance that she will be put off by the forwardness of my statement. But I have to take it. I have to have her.

  “Is that right?” She replies with a knowing smile.

 

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