Don't Mind If I Do : A Fake Marriage Romantic Comedy

by Everly Ashton

  “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you did what you did.”

  He sighs and falls back into the couch, shoulders slumped. “Will you still help the company or not?”

  “I don’t know. My head is spinning. I need to think about it.”

  “Mazzy, you’re the only one who can save it. I’m a desperate man.”

  I feel as if a lightbulb goes off in my head. The will being changed so close to Grandfather’s death… “Wait. The will…”

  My dad nods slowly. “Your grandfather caught wind of what I did. That’s why he changed the will.”

  “To punish you?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. I assume so. We had an argument about it before he died when I went to him to bail me out.”

  “And now you want me to bail you out.” Jesus. I’m such an idiot. “I gotta go.” I grab my purse from the chair and rush to the door.

  “Mazzy? What are you going to do?”

  I don’t turn around when I answer. “I don’t know.”

  Forty-Four

  Nick

  That shift sucked. I ended up having to stay longer than my scheduled twenty-four hours because the ER was so backed up. So I hope to see Mazzy up when I arrive home just after eight o’clock. What I don’t expect is to find her at the kitchen table and looking as if she’s hungover.

  Her eyes are red and puffy, her hair is a mess, and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts and I don’t think anything else except maybe panties that aren’t visible.

  I drop my bag on the tile and rush over. “What’s wrong?”

  Taking the seat next to her, I visually scan her from head to toe to make sure she’s not injured, but she looks physically okay—just emotionally distraught.

  Tears well in her eyes when she looks at me. “I went to see my dad yesterday.”

  I take her hands. “Is he okay? Did something happen?”

  She closes her eyes and shakes her head, a tear dripping down her face. Then she tells me about her conversation with her father. I’m probably almost as shocked as she was.

  First, because although her father’s no saint—he is a product of his environment, after all—I would never guess he’d do something like this. My dad would have no trouble using his son to cover up his own fuck ups, but I didn’t think Thomas Pembrooke had it in him. Mazzy had always adored her father and looked up to him.

  The second reason I’m shocked is because Mazzy would marry someone just to try to save the family company. That’s how much she cares. She was willing to approach a man she knew hated her to protect their workers—the majority of whom she doesn’t actually know.

  “I’m so sorry.” I pull her so her legs are slung over my lap and wrap her in my arms.

  She sobs into my chest, wetting the T-shirt I changed into after my shift. Probably five minutes pass before she leans back enough to see my face. “The worst part is that I keep wondering what else has he lied about. Does the man I grew up idolizing even really exist?”

  I frown. “I’m sure he does, Maz. Everyone has pieces of themselves they hide from others, but I think most of what you saw with your dad was the truth. He loves you.”

  That much is true. Regardless of how many shithead moves the man makes, I know he loves his daughter deeply.

  “Thank you for telling me. And for going there to insist that you should,” I say. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out how you’d hoped.”

  “He’s not who I thought he was.” She squeezes her eyes shut.

  “You’ve got bags under your eyes. Did you sleep at all?”

  She shakes her head. “No, not really.”

  “C’mon. Let’s go to bed. You’ll feel a little better after you get some sleep.” I lightly tap her lower back to get her to stand.

  She does. “I hope you’re right.”

  We head upstairs and slip under the covers once I’ve stripped down to my boxer briefs.

  “I like your T-shirt.” I pull her in and kiss her shoulder.

  Her gaze whips up to mine. “I hope you don’t mind. You weren’t home and I was so upset when I tried to go to bed. I just wanted something that made me feel close to you.”

  “I don’t mind at all. In fact, I think it’s one of the sweetest damn things I’ve ever heard.” I kiss the top of her head. “Now let’s get some sleep and we can talk about this some more once we wake up.”

  She nods and snuggles into me. While she drifts off to sleep, I study every part of her face, committing it all to memory. Only once her breathing is even and I know she’s fallen asleep do I let myself drift off too.

  Mazzy stretches out beside me, yawning and rolling away from me.

  “How are you feeling?” I ask.

  She rolls back my way and blinks a few times. “My head hurts from crying so much.”

  “Hang on, I’ll get you something.” I slip out of bed and grab her some water and aspirin from the bathroom, then give them to her.

  “Thank you.” She tosses the pill in her mouth and swallows it with some water. “Sorry I was a mess when you got home.”

  I sit on the edge of the bed beside her. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me about being upset.” I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

  “It was a lot to lay on you when you’re just coming off a shift.”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s not. I want to be here for you.”

  She gives me a small smile and skims her hand down my cheek. “You’ve sure had enough practice, that’s for sure.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m practically an expert by now. I remember that time you skinned your knee when we were seven, and then in eighth grade when Timothy Ravencroft said you were a bad kisser.” I lower my face and look at her from under my eyebrows. “Complete lie, by the way.”

  She chuckles.

  “Then there was the time Donnie Delmonte liked Katie Schroeder instead of you in high school.”

  She raises her hand. “Okay, you can stop now.”

  I smile. “My point is that I’ve been doing this most of our lives. Though I missed a fair chunk in the middle, it’s my job from here on out.”

  She kisses me on the lips. “That means so much.”

  “You’re stuck with me.” I wink, and she smiles then sighs. “How are you feeling about everything now?”

  She shrugs. “Still trying to work it out in my brain. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I have to come to terms with what my dad did before I can even think about my next step.”

  I take her hand. “Well, the good news is that you have a few more months to figure it out before you’ve met the terms of your grandfather’s will.”

  “And that’s the other thing. If my grandfather knew, why wouldn’t he say something? Did he want my dad punished and that’s why he bequeathed everything to me, or did he expect me to help? He was the one who started the company and made it a success. I can’t see him being okay with it going down, but if that’s the case, why wouldn’t he leave everything to my dad?”

  I frown. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get those answers.”

  She nods. “I know. That’s what makes it so hard.”

  I pull her in and kiss her cheek. Seeing her so hurt by her father’s actions is painful, but I’m so grateful that I’m the one who gets to be here for her. Whatever her grandfather’s intentions, I owe him one.

  Forty-Five

  Mazzy

  I’m working on a painting upstairs in the guest bedroom I’ve turned into a small art studio when the doorbell rings, and I frown. I’m not expecting anyone. Nick left for the gym a few minutes ago, but I opted to stay home because I’m really getting somewhere with this piece. If he’d forgotten something, he’d just use the code to get in.

  I set down the paintbrush and walk down the stairs to the front door. The figure is blurred behind the frosted glass door, so only after I open the door do I realize it’s Harold, the family lawyer.

  I haven’t been in touch with him lately. The six months is up
next week, and I still haven’t figured out what I want to do as far as Pembrooke Financial is concerned. I haven’t spoken to my dad since I left his office that day, even though he’s called and texted numerous times. I keep telling him I need more time.

  Harold better not be here on behalf of my father or we’re going to have problems.

  The other reason I haven’t wanted to acknowledge the end of the six months is because Nick and I have been actively avoiding the conversation that needs to happen between us as well. In a week, I might not be living here at all, although I hope that’s not the case.

  For my part, I don’t want anything to change, and I think Nick feels the same. But there’s a difference between thinking you know what someone wants and hearing the answer from them.

  “Harold, how are you?” I lean in and do the air-kiss thing. “Come in.” I step back and motion for him to enter.

  “Hi, Mazzy. Sorry to just drop by like this, but I needed to speak with you in private.” He looks over my shoulder into the house. “Are we alone?”

  I nod. “Yeah, Nick’s at the gym. Come into the living room.” I walk into the room where we spend most of our time. “Can I get you a drink or something?”

  He waves me off. “No, no. I won’t be very long.”

  My forehead wrinkles. I wonder what this could be about. “Okay.” I sit on the couch and gesture for him to sit in the armchair across from me. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine. I just have something for you, and I promised your grandfather I’d hand deliver it.”

  My stomach lurches. This must have something to do with the will. “Hand deliver?”

  “Yes.” He reaches into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulls out an envelope. He holds it out to me. My name is written across the front in what I recognize as my grandfather’s scrawl.

  Seeing something so personal from my grandfather makes my eyes burn with unshed tears as I take the envelope. I look at the letter in disbelief then back at Harold. “He wrote me a letter?”

  He nods. “But before you open it, I want to say something. I have no idea what’s in the letter. Your grandfather wanted me to give this to you a little less than a week before the six months were up. He wasn’t sure whether that would be five years from now, in a decade, or right away but…” He shrugs.

  “Okay, but I get the sense there’s more you want to say.”

  “There is.” Harold smiles. “As you can imagine, I’m well aware of everything going on at Pembrooke Financial Services. It was the impetus for your grandfather changing his will right before he died. Your father came to see me about certain matters that you know about as well.”

  I finger the edge of the envelope, anxious to see the words my grandfather wanted to share with me from beyond the grave. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because one thing I know for sure is that your grandfather loved you and he trusted you to do the right thing—whatever that is to you. That’s why he left almost everything to you. So no matter what you decide to do, or what that letter says, just know that he was proud of you.”

  I dab the corners of my eyes with my knuckles to stop tears from falling. I try not to think about my grandfather too much because it feels bittersweet. I’m happier than ever in my new marriage, but it only occurred because he’s not here to see it.

  I hold the letter to my chest. “Thank you for coming out here to deliver this to me.”

  “You got it.” He stands from the chair. “If you need anything else, let me know, but I have a feeling we’ll be chatting next week anyway.” He winks and walks away. “I can show myself out.”

  Normally I’d see him out like a good host should, but all I’m fixated on is this letter. I take a deep breath and rip the seal on the envelope before pulling out a piece of folded paper containing my grandfather’s handwriting.

  My dearest Mazzy,

  You’re probably wondering what the old fella is doing sending you letters from beyond, but rest assured my reasons are plenty. You see, my dear, I know how your mind works. Or at least I hope I do. I also know your father.

  If I’m right—and I’d bet my fortune I am, though that’s yours now—I’m sure you know what’s going on over at Pembrooke Financial. Your father came to me for money and I denied him. When I left you my vast fortune, I banked on the fact that he’d do the same to you.

  But you’re like me, always good at sniffing out when something doesn’t feel right and equally as good at asking questions to get to the bottom of it. You probably now know that your father screwed the pooch.

  I didn’t leave you everything as a way to get back at your father. I love my son, even if he does make the wrong choices sometimes. I left you everything so that you would be the one to decide his fate, and by extension, the fate of the company.

  Perhaps it’s too late. Maybe too much time has passed, and you didn’t get married right away. Though my assumption is your father asked you to find a husband and you’re probably married already because you love your father. But if I know you like I think I do, I’m betting you thought of the marriage pact you once told me about when you were younger and you reached out to Nick Ryan. If that was the case, hopefully he was smart enough to get his head out of his ass. I always liked you two. You made a great team, and you had the foundation of friendship to guide you, the same as your grandmother and I did.

  If you didn’t and you ended up marrying some idiot like your first husband, I’m sorry. You know I never did really like him.

  What I really want to say here is that I trust you to make the right decision. Know that whatever you decide, if I were still there, I’d support you fully.

  All my love,

  Grandfather

  A tear drips onto the paper.

  I wipe my cheeks and fold the letter back up before sliding it back into the envelope.

  Three months have passed since I discovered the truth and I still don’t know what to do. I’m even more confused now after reading Grandfather’s letter.

  One thing is clear though—I can’t continue to put off everything. Decisions need to be made. Not only for Pembrooke Financial and my father, but for Nick’s and my marriage too.

  Forty-Six

  Nick

  This is it. Today marks the last day we have to be married.

  Now the question is—what do we each want to do? It’s hard not to feel as though this is an episode of that stupid show Mazzy makes me watch, Married at First Sight, where they have to announce their decision to their spouse eight weeks after they blindly married.

  Only I’ve loved this girl for almost as long as I’ve known her. That’s what I plan to tell her tonight.

  The day she received her grandfather’s letter, we agreed to enjoy our last few days together. That we’d discuss our future on the last day of the six months. She had a lot more shit to figure out than I did, what with the state of her family’s legacy on the line.

  I sit in the kitchen at the table and wait for her. We’re getting our first dusting of snow. It’s not even officially winter yet, but that’s life in the northeast. It’s unpredictable. I watch the snow float gently to the ground. I only hope that I’ll walk away from this conversation with the same sense of peace.

  Mazzy walks into the room in an oversized sweater and a pair of leggings. The fact that she’s not dressed formally for our conversation relaxes my nerves. She hasn’t said or done anything that makes me feel as though we’re on different pages, but you just never know.

  “Hey.” I smile at her as she sits across from me. Surely that has to be a good sign.

  “I’m nervous,” she says.

  “Same.”

  We both let a small chuckle escape. I reach across the table for her hands and she lets me take them. Another good sign.

  “So… who goes first here?” I ask.

  “You can go first.”

  “Chicken shit.” I wink. “I had this whole speech prepared and now I forget all of it. Bu
t that’s okay because it really comes down to one thing. The day you walked back into my life was the second-best day of my life.”

  Her forehead wrinkles. “The second-best?”

  “The best day was the day I married you.”

  She squeezes my hands. I’ll take that as another good sign.

  “It doesn’t matter to me how we got here. The fact is we’re husband and wife and I want to share the rest of my life with you. I want to build on what we’ve already established. I want to figure out how our lives work together long term. I love you too much to let you walk out of my life again, so if you’re planning to sit here and tell me that you want to divorce, you need to understand that I’m going to fight for us this time, Maz. And I won’t make it easy for you to leave me. Not a chance in hell.”

  Her huge grin makes me think I said all the words she hoped to hear. “I have no plans to try to slip away from you. I want nothing more than for us to be a married couple. I’ve never felt as happy or as loved and supported as I have since we got married. Nor as sexually satisfied.” She winks.

  I’ll admit, my chest puffs out a little.

  “If I were to lose you again, I honestly don’t know what I would do. You are my everything. I love you, Nicholas Ryan.”

  I push out my chair and rush around the table to pull her from her chair. My chest feels as if it might burst and the confetti that is my joy will explode everywhere.

  As soon as she stands, I wrap my arms around her and kiss her for all I’m worth. I try to put everything in that kiss. Every ounce of regret for the years we were apart. Every part of my heart that belongs to her. She sinks into me as though she feels all the words I’m not saying.

  When we part, I rest my forehead against hers. “You are my person, Mazzy Pembrooke.”

  She swats my chest. “You stole that from Grey’s Anatomy.”

  I chuckle. “That doesn’t make it any less true.”