Faker: A Fake Relationship Romance

by Christie Tegan

  “Please, taste the wine. I’d like your opinion.”

  She dips her head in assent and reaches for the stem of the glass with her hand, palm side up. Tricky, but now I’m fairly certain that the woman sitting across from me is none other than Marley Jacobs Creed, my wife. But I decide to play along.

  “So my wife tells me you have information for me”

  “Yes, I do.” She looks around the crowded restaurant. “Should we order first?”

  I pretend that I’m locked in a stare at her—she’s so sexy it’s not a hard thing to do—and then act as if I suddenly remember where we are and snap out of it to pick up my menu. Truth is, I desperately want to fuck her right now. Just stand up, yank her out of her chair, bend her over the table, flip up her dress, and ram myself into her. I try to shake the image away because it’s like reveille—a bugle call—for my cock. “Of course, we can order first. I just got distracted for a moment.”

  I scan the menu, the whole time wondering how long I should keep up the charade. If I act interested in Jonna Hostedt, and she doesn’t realize that I’m onto her, I could get myself into trouble quickly. I decide on what I’ll order and use the time that she’s studying the menu to study her.

  I will give her credit—she’s good at this thing of hers. She’s even holding her body differently. I can see part of her hands now, but she’s covered them in elaborate henna designs. Clever.

  Her rings are absent, of course, and she is wearing long, lacquered nails—a very un-Marley adornment. When she looks up from the menu, she catches me staring, and I give her an apologetic smile.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare. It’s just that you’re so beautiful.”

  For a split second, fire flashes in her eyes—Marley’s eyes—though her natural ocean-blue is changed to vivid green for tonight. It’s difficult not to laugh. Does she really believe I wouldn’t recognize my own wife regardless of any disguise? The woman I live with and see on a daily basis? The beauty I see naked, touch constantly, adore always?

  I’m a little insulted that she thinks me so easily fooled.

  The attentive waiter sees our closed menus and approaches to take our orders. He looks expectantly at my lovely companion.

  “Hello. My name is Claude, and I will be your server this evening.”

  “Hello, Claude. I’ll have the sole in vegetable confit, please. Oh, and a small cheese platter, as well. Oh, and could you bring the cheese before or with dinner rather than with dessert?”

  “Very good. And you, sir?”

  “I’ll try the coq au vin, please. I’d also like a bottle of sparkling water for the table.”

  Claude bows stiffly and disappears, and I turn my attention back to my wife and rub my hands together. “So… business?”

  She sits up in her chair and smiles. I’m eyeing her for familiar traits, and I swear she has none. She is so fully inhabiting this Jonna person that if I were anyone else, she’d have me fooled. I decide to let it go through dinner and see what happens.

  “Yes, business. Let’s enjoy our dinner together and then we talk business,” she says, and her Danish accent is quite good. She continually amazes me with her bag of tricks, this one.

  “Certainly. What would you like to talk about?”

  “Tell me about yourself… and perhaps your wife.”

  “Well, I’m a businessman as my wife surely told you, which is, after all, why we’re here tonight.”

  “What do you like to do in your leisure time?”

  “Oh, well, I like sports. I like cars too.”

  “Do you read at all?”

  “Of course I do.”

  She tilts her head. “What was the last book you read?”

  “The Splendid and the Vile. Erik Larson.”

  She looks interested. “Was it any good?”

  “It was interesting. What about you? Do you like to read?”

  “I do. I just finished a biography that I found most informative.”

  “Oh? On who?”

  “Your great-grandfather, as a matter of fact. A man by the name of Oliver Wellington Creed.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. “Oh yes, good old Ollie. Does your business with me concern my great-grandfather?”

  “In a way I suppose it does. You see—”

  Our waiter interrupts that thought, bringing our water and the cheese platter. When he leaves, I prompt her to continue. “You were saying?”

  “Oh, it concerns your great-grandfather in a distant way.” She takes a bite. “Oh my God, this cheese is so delicious. You should try some.”

  I can’t help my smirk. Her American way of saying that phrase is breaking her out of character. Does she realize?

  The waiter returns with our entrees a few minutes later. I begin to eat my dinner, and the food here is superb. I shift my gaze up. “This place receives high marks. I think they’re earned. My dinner is great too.” I hold out a forkful of chicken. “Would you like to try it?”

  “That seems a bit intimate for strangers, Mr. Creed.”

  “Well, you offered me a taste of yours,” I say, deliberately making it sound dirty.”

  “Yes, but sharing an entrée is a bit much for strangers.”

  “Oh, I hope we’re not strangers for very long, Ms. Hostedt. Here, taste it.” I’m insisting because Marley doesn’t like to eat meat. She does eat fish—and so does Ms. Hostedt.

  “No, thank you.”

  We continue our dinner, and she tells me about a movie she saw recently. I listen attentively while I eat. Before long we finish dinner, and our waiter is back with a dessert menu.

  “I know what I want,” she says, smiling at him. “Crème brûlée, please.”

  “Make that two,” I say.

  Minutes later, the desserts arrive. This restaurant not only has good food but the service is excellent. We’ll definitely come back. When Claude leaves I decide to make my move. I extend my hand across the table as if I’m reaching for her hand though it’s not in sight. “I know we just met, Jonna, but... I’m wondering if you’d be interested in, I don’t know, maybe going out dancing after dinner? It’s such a beautiful evening, and we’re both here.”

  I watch the flush creep up her neck and into her face, and I have to pinch my leg painfully to keep from laughing. She shakes her head and inhales deeply. “You’re married. I’ve spoken with your wife, as you know. I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

  “Yes. How did you contact my wife anyway? I take great precaution and spend a lot of money to prevent strangers from getting access to either of us—but especially my darling wife. How’d you do it?”

  She sniffs. “I don’t share my secrets. I will tell you, though, that I like your wife very much, and I would never have anything to do with you. Nice women don’t poach, sir.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, it was just an offer to dance. It’s not as if I invited you to a hotel room. Although,” I lean across and say in a conspiratorial whisper, “I have done that before. It’s exciting to cheat, you know. The illicit flavor—it can’t be described; it must be experienced.”

  “You dick,” she spits out and tosses the napkin on the table, obviously getting ready to leave.

  That’s when I can’t hold it back any longer. I laugh so hard that I have to hold my stomach. The other diners are no doubt looking at us—at me—but I don’t care. This was just too much fun.

  “You knew?” She squeaks out after watching me laugh for a solid minute.

  “I knew almost from the moment you arrived. How could you think you could trick me? I’m your husband.”

  “Grrr. It’s so frustrating. I could fool almost everyone else, even Tara—and she’s known me way longer than you have. Why can’t I fool you? You knew it was me doing various people even before you knew me.”

  “What can I say? I fell in love with you the instant I saw you, and no other woman can come close to you, my sweet Marley. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  I wink at he
r. “I would love to invite you to my hotel room.”

  She chuckles. “Look in your dessert.”

  I look down. There’s a piece of paper tucked into a corner of the custard. I pluck it out and unfold it.

  Here is a riddle for you, Mr. Creed:

  I’m one word with three letters in this poem.

  I start with a D and I’m a palindrome.

  I’m a new name for you, and that is a fact

  What am I and please be exact?

  My mouth literally drops open as I look back up at her. “For real? You’re pregnant?”

  She nods, her expression anxious. “Are you upset?”

  “Upset? No way. Why would you even think that?”

  “Saylor told me what you said to that woman before you dated her. I figured you didn’t want children. Plus, you never brought it up except to ask if I was on birth control so I…” She shrugs her shoulders.

  “Marley, I am… over the moon. Thrilled. Excited. I can’t wait. How far along are you?”

  “I’m about ten weeks.”

  I get up and go to her. Bend down and kiss her. “Was that Jonna’s business with me?”

  She presses her lips together to squash her smile, but it doesn’t work. “Yes. I thought I’d have some fun with you first but looks like you turned the table on me.”

  I whisper in her ear. “I like the wig. Keep it on when I fuck you tonight.”

  “Eat your dessert, and then we’ll get out of here.”

  My brows hike up and down. “I know what dessert I really want to eat. Let’s get out of here now.”

  She takes a spoonful of her crème brûlée. “Mm. You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I do. That’s why I want to go.” I spot the waiter and raise my hand.

  “Check please. Oh, and we’re in a hurry. Thanks.”

  After I pay the bill, I get up to pull back Marley’s chair and take a moment to whisper in her ear. “What other accents can you do?”

  She smiles. “I’ll never tell.”

  As we leave the restaurant, I see Hugo standing just outside with Tristan. Had I not gotten there first, I would’ve spotted Tristan, and the game would’ve been over even sooner. Now with a little one on the way, I’ll have to hire more security staff. I’ll call a meeting with them tomorrow.

  We get in the car, Hugo at the wheel tonight. If there was any way I could pull it off without him seeing, I would gladly fuck my wife right here, right now. But though I wouldn’t mind Hugo getting a sneak peek now and then, it would bother Marley. The whole public spanking did not sit well with her.

  I laugh at the pun.

  “What are you laughing about?”

  I shift my gaze to her. “Just a little pun that ran through my head.” I lean over and whisper in her ear. “I was thinking of fucking you right now, but I knew you wouldn’t like it with Hugo being able to see and hear. The thought that the spanking didn’t sit well with you crossed my mind.”

  “Oh, that’s hilarious,” she says as she flips back the hair hanging in her face. “I couldn’t sit comfortably for two days, and the looks I got from the guys were humiliating.”

  I sidle as close to her as my seatbelt will allow. “Can I do it again tonight?”

  She sits straighter and crosses her leg. Sniffs. Then with eyes looking straight ahead, she says. “We’ll see.”

  I sit back, anxious to get home, my erection becoming painful. Closing my eyes, I allow my thoughts to wander, and an epiphany dawns inside my brain:

  I met the love of my life when her role in disguise made me take notice of her. Tonight, again dressed as someone else, she completed my world, and we came full circle.

  First, a man.

  Then, a couple.

  Now, a family.

  Life is good. There’s no disguising that.

  THE END