Delicious Complication

by Sabrina Sol

  He let out a frustrated growl and forced himself to walk away from the car before he dented it somewhere else with his fist. Stomping through the kitchen, he was grateful the staff knew well enough to stay out of his way. And after a few quick strides, he made it into his office without having to deal with another catastrophe. He slammed the door behind him and collapsed onto his desk chair.

  I need a drink. No, scratch that, I need drinks. As in, multiple.

  He was just about to stand up and head for the restaurant bar when his cell phone buzzed in his pants pocket.

  What now? He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Concern melted his anger as he wondered why his mother was calling him at eleven-thirty on a Tuesday morning.

  “Hello, Mamá. Is everything okay?

  “No, everything is not okay! It’s bad enough I have the cancer but now you want to give me a heart attack, too?”

  His worry lessened. Her usual dramatics meant she wasn’t likely calling about a life or death emergency. No, she was more passive aggressive on those topics. He usually had to pull them out of her after she’d already insisted all was fine. So the fact that she was giving him a guilt trip meant he’d done something he didn’t even know about, and he’d just have to let her go on and on until he apologized for whatever it was she thought he did.

  He leaned back into his chair and closed his yes. “Take a breath, Mamá. Cálmate.”

  “No me puedo calmar.”

  “Why can’t you calm down? Why are you so upset?”

  “Tell me, Brandon. Am I bad mother?”

  “Of course not, Mamá.” He sighed.

  “Then why, mijo? Why did I have to find out from a stranger que eres casado?”

  Brandon’s eyes flew open and he sat straight up in his chair. “Married? Mamá, who told you I was married?”

  “The computer. Beatrice’s daughter see it and tell her, and Beatrice come over and show to me.”

  Fury surged up from his belly and up his neck, strangling him like a noose. He had to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar. “Mamá, how many times have I told you that you can’t always believe what you read on those kind of websites?”

  “Yes, I know, mijo. I tell Beatrice that’s not possible. I tell her I would know if my son has a wife. But the picture! Tell me it’s not true, Brandon. Por favor, tell me you didn’t stay here for two weeks in my house while your new wife stay hiding in Los Angeles. Is it because she already don’t like me? Did you tell her I was a bad mother, is that why she no want to meet me?”

  “Mamá, please slow down. Let me explain before you really do have a heart attack.”

  “Maybe I am already. My heart is beating too fast in my chest. After Beatrice left I have to sit down because I couldn’t breathe. Your cousin Tomas is already looking on the computer so he can buy me a ticket tonight to come to Los Angeles.”

  His own heart sped up. “Wait. You’re coming to Los Angeles? But why?”

  “To meet your wife!”

  “So let me get this straight. I begged and pleaded with you for two weeks to fly back with me so I could get you an appointment with a cancer specialist, but you refused. But now, all of a sudden, you’re ready to get on a plane just to meet Daisy?”

  “Is that her name? Daisy? This is what I mean, mijo. This woman is now my daughter and I don’t even know her name. Of course I’m coming to Los Angeles. I need to know my new daughter and make her see I’m not such a terrible mother. I already asked Señora Ruiz to water my plants while I’m gone and Señor Bustamante is going to take over my Sunday shift at the food kitchen and I’m going to have to cancel my…”

  Brandon waited for her take a breath so he could interrupt and tell her the truth about Daisy. But the more he listened to her go on and on, the more he realized that once she knew there wasn’t a real daughter-in-law to meet, there was no way she’d be getting on a plane.

  The knot of helplessness in the pit of his stomach tightened—he’d had it since learning she’d been diagnosed with cervical cancer. Within a couple of hours of their conversation, he’d called everyone he could think of and asked for the name of the best oncologist in the city. One of his customers, a pharmaceutical rep, helped him get a phone call with one of the doctors on staff at the USC Norris Comprehensive Cancer Center. He’d agreed to see his mother and review her plan of care if she came to town. So Brandon had flown to Puerto Rico the day after Amara’s wedding determined not to come back unless his mother was in the seat next to him. But after two weeks of begging, she’d still refused.

  Although she blamed her busy volunteer schedule, there was another reason why she wouldn’t come back with him. And he felt guilty as hell for it. He knew she saw her cancer as an imposition—something that could disrupt the life he’d worked so hard to build away from her and Puerto Rico. That was why she limited her phone calls to twice a week and why she’d only visited him once since he’d moved to L.A.

  And why she’d waited over a month to tell him she was sick.

  Brandon wanted to scream. What good was all of his money and all his success if he couldn’t use it to help his mamá when she needed him the most? Maybe she preferred to fight this fight alone, but there was absolutely no way in this world that he was going to let her.

  Too bad he wasn’t really married, or even engaged.

  An idea thundered into Brandon’s head, drowning out the rest of what his mother was saying. It was a long shot, and even crazier than him pretending to be Daisy’s boyfriend on the night of the wedding.

  But what if Daisy pretended to be his fiancée?

  The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that this was his only option. Of course, it would only work if Daisy agreed to the plan. He had to talk to her about the tabloid story anyway. Might as well throw in a fake engagement, too.

  He’d do whatever it took to convince her to go along with his plan. He just needed to get his mom on a plane as soon as possible.

  “Mamá.” He attempted to stop her rambling. “Mamá, please, let me say something.”

  But she wouldn’t let him get in a word between all of hers. So he had no choice but to yell: “Mamá! I’m not married! I’m engaged!”

  Silence and then a hiss. “Que?”

  “I’m trying to tell you that Daisy isn’t my wife. She’s my fiancée. That photo is from the night I asked her to marry me.”

  “But why you no tell me?”

  “I’m sorry. I know I should have. But you’d just told me about the cancer and I wanted you to focus on getting better. So if you think you’re really up for a trip, why don’t you still come to L.A. and meet your future daughter-in-law.”

  “Aye, mijo! This makes me so happy! I should still pinch you for not telling me when you were here but I’m glad I didn’t miss your wedding. Que buena! Have you set a date yet?”

  “No, Mamá. There’s still so much to plan. How about I buy you a one-way ticket for next week? That way you can spend time with Daisy and maybe even see the doctor I told you about. What do you say?”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. And for a second, Brandon feared she’d still refuse. Then he heard her take a breath. “Okay, mijo, I’ll come. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  For the first time in weeks, the knot started to loosen. “I can’t wait for you to meet her, too. You’re going to love her, Mamá. Daisy is the most beautiful, generous, kindest woman I’ve ever—”

  “Just who in the hell do you think you are?

  Brandon nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Daisy’s voice. She stood in his doorway, looking completely pissed off. He didn’t have to guess why.

  “Uh, Mamá?” he said into the phone. “I’m going to have to call you back.”

  Daisy waited as Brandon finished the call with his mother. She’d felt a twinge of regret about the way she’d stormed into office once she realized whom he was talking to. But she pushed it down, determined to stay mad so she could tell him off the way she’d
practiced during the drive over.

  She wasn’t sure what angered her more—the fact that she’d been ambushed by this article or the fact that seeing him again had rustled up feelings she wasn’t prepared to face just yet.

  “God help me— No. God help you if you knew anything about this article coming out,” she told him once he put his phone down.

  He waved his hands. “I swear I didn’t. I just found out this morning.”

  “How did they get that photo, Brandon?”

  “Why don’t you take a seat first? You’re making me nervous standing there like that.”

  “I’ll sit when I want to sit. Start talking.”

  “There’s this ex-employee of mine named Felipe Campos—”

  “And what? He somehow managed to be at the same hotel where we, where we almost…”

  “Yes. My lawyer found out he works there now.”

  Daisy’s stomach fell. “The guy with the cart?”

  “The guy with the cart.”

  “I don’t understand. How can you be so calm about this?”

  “Because we both know the story’s not true. Well, what the photo shows is true, but there’s no proof that we’re married. My lawyer has already called the editor demanding a retraction.”

  Although she still wanted to be angry, Daisy had to admit that Brandon had a point. All the photo showed was a couple making out. There was no story there.

  But as the cloud of anger hovering over her dissipated, the bumblebees attacked. Almost sleeping with him hadn’t calmed the hive, it had only aggravated it. “Fine. I guess. But if anything else comes up, you better call me.”

  “I will. And I’m sorry you got dragged into this mess. Felipe is after me, not you.”

  She nodded and turned to walk away, but he called her name. The look on his face worried her. “What? Is there video, too?”

  He shook his head. “No, but there is another issue we have to discuss. And maybe you should sit down for this one.”

  His tone and his eyes told her that she should indeed take a seat. “Brandon, you’re freaking me out. Spill it.”

  “Well, it turns out that we weren’t the only ones upset by the article.”

  “Shit. Did Amara call you, too?”

  “Amara? No. I’m talking about my mother. I had just finished calming her down when you walked in.”

  Even though she didn’t know Brandon’s mother, the thought of her—or any mother—seeing those photos enflamed her cheeks. “Oh. So she saw—”

  “Yeah. It’s actually more complicated than that. Remember I told you that she has cancer?”

  Daisy’s chest tightened. He could see the worry on his face, and she felt for him.

  “Yes, I remember. But what does that have to do with the article?”

  “While we were in Puerto Rico, my sister and I tried to convince her to come to Los Angeles and see a specialist at USC. But no matter what we did or said, she refused to come here. That is until today, when she thought we were married.”

  “I’m still not understanding. You told her we weren’t, though, right?”

  “I did.”

  “Okay, so what’s the issue?”

  “The issue is I need to get her to Los Angeles and the only way to get her here is to…”

  “To what?”

  “Daisy, will you pretend to be my fiancée?”

  Had she been standing, she would’ve fallen into the chair. Instead she gripped the armrests. “I’m sorry. I thought you just asked me to—”

  “To marry me, or rather, pretend that you’re going to marry me. Just for a few weeks while she’s in town.”

  She gripped the chair harder, only to keep herself from falling out of it. “No.”

  “No?”

  “No. I won’t pretend to be your fiancée.”

  “But why not? I pretended to be your boyfriend.”

  “Oh. My. God. That is so not the same. I’m not lying to your mother. You’ll just have to find another way to get her here.”

  “There is no other way. Believe me, I’ve tried. The only thing that can get her on a plane is the promise of meeting her future daughter-in-law, and that’s you.”

  “But it’s not me.” She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. In fact, no one would believe they were having this conversation.

  “I’ll pay you, of course. Just name your price.”

  That’s when the anger returned. Daisy jumped to her feet. “Why is it always about money with you? I’m not for sale. Good-bye, Brandon.”

  She heard him get up from his desk and before she reached the door, he grabbed her hand. Flashbacks of their exchange that night in the hotel lobby tackled her and she released a breath.

  “I never meant to imply that, Daisy. Please, just hear me out.”

  Against her better judgment, she didn’t punch him in the gut. Instead she watched him release her hand and then push his office door closed.

  “Look, Brandon, I’m sorry about your mother. But this is kind of a major thing you’re asking. It’s not just lying to her over the phone. Once she’s here, it takes it to a whole other level. And given our recent history, I just don’t think I’m the right girl for you—for this.”

  “But that’s the thing, Daisy. You are absolutely the perfect girl for this. You just have to look at this like another business partnership. And because of our history, we know we’re compatible. We’re obviously attracted to each other, so we don’t have to pretend there. And, like you said, we’re friends.”

  “Don’t you have other friends who could do this? What about that redhead you were dating last month, or the Victoria’s Secret model you were supposed to take to Amara’s wedding?”

  His eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t realize you were keeping tabs on my dating life.”

  Whoops. “Please. Don’t flatter yourself. I’m just making the point that your so-called dating life is public knowledge. So why don’t you just ask one of those girls to do this. I bet there’s a wannabe actress in your harem who would jump at the chance to be your fiancée—pretend or otherwise.”

  “That’s the problem. Once you have a romantic relationship with someone, you can’t call them up and ask them to go down that path again. Sure, you and I almost slept together, but that wasn’t about being in a real relationship. It was about sex. That’s it. And when we realized we were making a mistake, we stopped. This is why it needs to be you. I need someone who can draw the line between emotion and practicality. I need you, Daisy.”

  The shock of his request began to die down. It still was too much to comprehend. Pretend to be engaged to Brandon? There was no way.

  “Just hear me out before you say something.” He could read her like a label. She really had no poker face. “My dad died when I was just a kid. My mom and Alex are the only real family I have left in this world, and I can’t just sit by and do nothing. I know this plan is beyond ridiculous, but it’s the only plan I’ve got. I don’t know what else to do. All I need is two weeks. Please.”

  He was grabbing her hand again—clenching it, actually. Her breath caught in her chest once she allowed herself to look into his eyes. She’d never seen Brandon so exposed. His pain was palpable, and she ached for him.

  She imagined what she would do if the tables were turned. What if it were her father who had cancer and the only way she could be certain he was getting the treatment he needed was to ask Brandon to be her fiancé? The magnitude of the request finally hit home. But the little voice issued one more warning.

  He’s just using you to get something he wants. Just like the night of Amara’s wedding. And when he gets it, you’ll be nothing to him again.

  Maybe. But could she really continue their professional relationship knowing she hadn’t helped him? Could he? When it came down to it, Daisy didn’t see any other choice. The only thing she could do was to make sure she got something out of the deal—something to ensure she walked away with her pride and business plan intact.


  “Fine. I’ll do it.”

  His whole body deflated in relief and he let go of her hand. She quickly dismissed the tinge of disappointment. “Thank you so much, Daisy,” he said. “You have no idea what this means to me.”

  “Yeah, well, before you start thanking me, don’t you want to know what it’s going to cost you?”

  “I thought you said…”

  “I still don’t want money.”

  “Then what?”

  “I want you to introduce me to Christian Santos and his fiancée Mira.”

  She waited for him to protest, or worse, laugh again. He did neither. “You’ve got a deal.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. You know I can’t guarantee anything. I’ll make the introduction, but the rest will be up to you.”

  “I know. I know. Don’t worry.”

  His eyebrow lifted. “You sound pretty confident. I’ll have to warn you, though. Christian may act like a playboy on the small screen but he’s not one in real life. Since he met Mira he hasn’t so much as glanced at another woman.”

  She put her fists on her hips. “Well, that’s original. You think I’m going to flirt my way into getting a job? I’d be offended if it weren’t so ridiculous. You really don’t know me, do you?”

  And why did it matter so much?

  “I stand corrected,” he told her. “What’s your plan then?”

  “Mira. My plan is Mira.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Of course you don’t. That’s the point. You can’t understand something you know nothing about.” She waved her hands at his lavish office. “Mira isn’t a celebrity like you or Christian. She’s a regular girl who was living a regular life until a famous person fell in love with her. If my instincts are correct, Mira isn’t going to want a big Hollywood wedding or a big Hollywood wedding planner. She’s going to want a regular girl like her.”

  “Daisy, you are many things. But a regular girl is not one of them,” he said with a very telling smile.

  Somewhere during her tirade, he’d grabbed her hand again. She hadn’t realized it until the moment his thumb grazed hers. It triggered a familiar ache between her thighs. A frustrating consequence of coming so close to, well, coming with Brandon. God, she better not be wearing her unwanted arousal on her face. The last thing she needed was to let him know that he’d flipped a switch within her.