The Screwup: A Billionaire Fake Fiancée Romance (The Holbrook Cousins Saga Book 2)
Page 2
"Not that could be here in thirty minutes!" Carter said and curled up on the bed. "Think," he told himself. Something dug into his hip, and he pulled an old pizza crust out from Tyler's sheets.
The dog wagged her stubby tail.
"This might be the last meal you eat," he told her sorrowfully.
The dog gnawed on the stale crust as Carter's phone beeped. His rideshare app notified him he still had fifty percent off his next ride.
"I think," Carter said, smiling, "I have a solution."
3
Allie
After Allie spent hours arguing with the fire marshal, the Wildcat was slapped with a fine. She was thankful the fire marshal hadn’t shut them down for good.
"You all keep having violations," the fire marshal said sternly. "The noise complaints, the trash your patrons leave outside. Y'all need to clean up your act."
After they finally finished scrubbing the bar and prepping for the next evening, Allie washed her face, made some instant coffee, then sat in her car and logged onto her phone for her next job, driving for a ridesharing service.
"You can take me home, right?" Stacy asked her.
"Sure, but if a ride comes through, I have to grab it," she warned her roommate.
"It's super early, so there probably won't be anyone needing a ride yet." Stacy yawned.
"I hope so. I'm beat."
As Allie pulled out onto the main road to take them to the small apartment they rented, a notification came through on her phone.
Pickup at Camp Les DesChamps.
She accepted the ride.
"That's odd," Allie said, taking a sharp turn to drive toward the base.
"I wonder who needs to be picked up at this hour," Stacy said, snuggling down in her seat. Allie opened the windows.
"Hey, it's freezing!" Stacy complained.
"We smell like stale booze. I don't want a bad review," Allie warned. "It's probably some officer needing to go somewhere. The last thing I need is to lose this gig."
After presenting their IDs at the front gate, Allie drove slowly to the pickup location indicated by the blue dot on the map. They stopped in front of the barracks.
"Oh my goodness," Stacy said, sitting upright in her seat. "It's Carter Holbrook."
"Hi," Stacy said as they pulled up in front of him. He had a cardboard box in his hand. Allie tapped the rideshare app.
"You want to go to New York City?" she screeched. "I have to bartend tonight. I am not driving to New York City!"
"Look here," Carter said, opening the door and climbing into the back seat of her car.
Something in the box was moving.
"Is that a rat? What is that?" Allie demanded, turning around in her seat.
"Relax," Carter told her. "This is Maggot."
"You brought maggots into my car? Get out. Now. And cancel this ride."
"Please?" Carter said. "I just need you to babysit my dog until I can work something out. We aren't allowed to have pets in the barracks."
"I'm not driving your dog to New York," she said.
"Then put in whatever destination you want. I just need you to hold the dog for me for a couple of days. Here," he said, handing her a wad of cash. "This should cover food, vet, grooming, whatever you need. If you spend more, here is my contact info," he said then took her phone and typed in his information.
Allie raised an eyebrow.
"Just look after her, okay? Please?" Carter asked.
"Fine," Allie said. "Only for a few days."
Stacy took the box from Carter, batting her eyelashes at him. Allie hit her friend lightly on the leg as Carter scooted out of the back seat. He gave Allie a thumbs-up as she drove away.
Allie took a look at the dog and said, "That is the most pathetic animal I have ever seen."
"I think she's a Chihuahua mix," Stacy said.
Allie changed the destination to a veterinary clinic across town. After calling to see if they would take a walk-in, she and Stacy drove over.
She received a text from Carter while they sat in the waiting room.
Everything okay?
Allie wrote back,
I'm changing her name. How does Margot sound?
Carter replied,
Perfect!
"This dog is just hungry and dirty," the vet said after looking Margot over. He pulled two ticks from behind her ear and gave Allie some flea medicine.
"Let's go shopping!" Stacy said, holding up the little dog.
At the store, they filled up the cart with toys, treats, and grooming items. Stacy also found several little outfits for the dog that Allie thought were too expensive.
"We are not wasting Carter's money on those," Allie said with a frown as Stacy presented the pink sparkly dresses she had selected.
"Just a sweater?" Stacy pleaded. "Look, she's cold!"
Margot shivered, and Allie relented.
In the car, Allie logged back into the rideshare app then decided against it and closed it. She still had all that money from Carter. It had been more than enough to cover food, bedding, and the vet bills. The leftover amount was more than what she would earn driving for the rideshare company in a week. She sighed to herself.
"What wrong?" Stacy asked as she dug through the bag of goodies they had bought for Margot.
"Just wish I were born rich is all," Allie said as she drove them back to their apartment.
"Maybe you can land a nice officer," Stacy said. "But not Carter. He's mine, so hands off!"
Allie laughed. "I wouldn't dream of it."
After returning to the small apartment she shared with Stacy, Allie logged onto her computer and started working on that week's homework for her actuarial science and statistics double major. She tried to concentrate on the complex mathematical formulas, but she kept letting herself be distracted as she perused the internet for photos and information on Carter Holbrook. There were pictures of him in his cousin's wedding and older pictures from his little cousins' funeral.
Allie read that their mother, Danielle, had died a year ago. She was killed by Carter's father when trying to kidnap Grant Holbrook, Carter's long-lost cousin.
"Their family sure is complicated," she muttered to herself. Margot lay at her feet, fed, clean, and warm. Allie reached down to pet the dog, who grumbled in her sleep.
"Glad I don't have a family to deal with." Allie had run away from home almost eleven years before when she was still in high school. Her mother's creepy husband had come into her room one night when he thought she was sleeping. She hit him in the head with a lamp, and he tried to strangle her.
There was a story in the paper the next day about a girl Allie's age who disappeared and was found dead weeks later. The girl's stepfather was arrested. It was a wake-up call, as Allie didn't want that to be her. So she stole all the money in her stepfather’s wallet, packed up her things, and headed east. She was going to try to go to New York City but only made it as far as North Carolina.
"It's nice here, though," she told Margot. "Rent is cheap, the internet is pretty fast, and the Marine Corps base means there's always people to buy alcohol."
It was a little lonely, though. She didn't dare date any of the marines. They were all patrons at her bar, and she had a strict rule of not dating customers. Ever. She had tried it once, and it had gone horribly, terribly wrong.
She flipped back to the tab of Kate and Grant Holbrook's elaborate wedding. Wistfully, Allie let herself daydream about becoming rich and marrying a handsome man. She would live in a beautiful house and have a fun and carefree existence, and all of her problems would be solved.
4
Carter
That weekend, Carter flipped through the photos of Margot that Allie sent him. The little dog looked happy and safe. One of the pictures was a selfie of Allie and the dog. The hard-nosed bartender looked young and pretty in the photo. Carter was so used to seeing her all in black in a dimly lit establishment.
She is really attractive, he thought. Her toned a
rms and her full chest were prominent in the picture. Carter fantasized about what it would be like to run his hands down around her chest and let them settle on the narrow waist and slightly curvy hips.
Carter smiled. He had solved his dog problem and had a pretty girl's picture on his phone. He was riding high on his good mood, but a text from his brother brought him back down to earth.
We should talk. Free at 3?
Mark knew he was free at three. There wasn't anything else going on. He wrote back.
Fine. I'll meet you at your office.
Carter double-checked his uniform to make sure it was neat then started the long walk over to his older brother's office.
Captain Mark Holbrook was waiting out in front for him. Carter saluted his brother, and they went inside the building.
"Hardly anyone’s here on account of it being Saturday," Mark said, turning on the light in one of the conference rooms. "I have some work to finish up, though."
"Working on your PowerPoint skills?" Carter sneered.
"Ha ha, very funny. I heard you recently acquired a dog," Mark said, sitting down at the table.
"Wow, good news sure travels fast around here," Carter said, leaning back in a creaky chair. "It must be a slow week."
"You can't have pets in the barracks, Carter. You're almost out—can't you keep it together until January? Then you'll be free to waste your life as you see fit."
"Screw you," Carter said and lowered his voice as another officer in the building gave them a strange look through the window of the conference room. "At least I was actually deployed and saw combat. You've spent your contract sitting behind a desk."
Carter saw his brother's face redden. He knew it was a sore point for him. He felt bad going for the kill, but he hated it whenever his family talked down to him.
"You and Dad," Carter said, "all you do is complain about me. I never did anything to you. I certainly don't have a bunch of kids running around like Uncle Walter."
"Grant isn't a bunch of kids," Mark countered, "just one. And you better not have any kids!"
"I use protection!" Carter bragged. "I go through boxes of condoms."
"You are out of control," Mark said, a disapproving look on his face.
It was a lie. Carter didn't like casual hookups, though he certainly pretended to. He was scared of running into someone like Danielle, his now-deceased aunt who had murdered his baby cousins and her own parents by setting fire to her historic house. She had also almost killed his cousin Grant and his then-fiancée, now-wife Kate. Carter didn't trust any of the women who hung around the Les DesChamps base. He knew they only wanted him for his money and status.
He always told himself that he would find a nice girl and settle down once he was out of the military. He was fast approaching thirty, though, and he wasn't sure if that would ever happen.
Mark rubbed his temples. "I didn't call you here to argue."
"Of course not," Carter said. "You just want to berate me about my future plans."
"You need to think about it," Mark said. "I was talking to Dad earlier this morning—"
Carter made a disgusted noise. "If Dad wants to tell me something, why doesn't he call me himself instead of going through you? I’m so tired of him. I don't even want to go home for Thanksgiving."
"Your leave was already approved," Mark reminded him.
"I don't have to go."
"Then you lose it."
"So what?"
"Just come," Mark said. "Grant will be back. You guys can talk about your post-military plans. You could go work at Holbrook Enterprises, maybe move into a sales role."
"I'm not going to be some road-warrior sales douche," Carter said, crossing his arms.
"Kate wants to set you up with one of her friends," Mark told him.
"Who?" Carter was interested despite himself.
"One of the Davenport sisters. Liz."
Carter nodded. He knew Liz.
"And I bet this is a Dad-approved suggestion."
Mark pursed his mouth but didn't say anything.
Carter smiled bitterly. "Of course it is."
"Mom wants to see you. Stop being so selfish," Mark said, standing up.
Carter jumped out of his chair. "So that's it. Conversation is over, huh?"
"I have to finish reviewing my code for this drone software program I'm writing," Mark said.
"Great. Glad I wasted my time coming over here," Carter snapped at his brother. "Don't bother walking me down. I can see myself out."
Carter fumed as he marched back to his barracks.
He hated his parents, and he knew they didn't like him much, either. He was supposed to be born a girl, according to the family stories. His father had wanted a son and a daughter for a perfectly balanced nuclear family. Instead, they had to deal with Carter and all of his screwups.
Now his father probably wanted to have a respectable daughter-in-law, just like Kate, Grant's wife. Carter liked Kate. He really did. She was the ideal upper-class wife—good parents, well educated, smart, capable, and well-dressed. He knew Liz Davenport was just like her.
Carter entertained the thought of wooing Liz. Maybe his father would finally like him, and his mother would surely be happy. Nancy always tried to pretend she was hip and progressive, but Carter knew she really was set in her ways and only wanted things to be trendy up to a point.
His whole family was all gun-shy about Danielle, his uncle's sociopathic deceased wife. Any potential partner he or Mark brought home would be under intense scrutiny.
"I should just bring the trashiest girl I can find and freak them all out during my mom's perfect Thanksgiving," Carter said to himself. He chuckled, imagining some junky girl chewing with her mouth open, stealing the silver, and making rude jokes.
"Too bad I don't know anyone like that," he said to himself. "I would pay good money just to see my parents' reactions if I brought home someone like that as my girlfriend. No, fiancée!"
His phone buzzed, and he opened it to see another picture of Allie and Margot heading to the Wildcat bar to set up for another night of debauchery.
A grin spread slowly across Carter's face as a dangerous idea formed in his mind.
5
Allie
Allie was cutting lemons and limes as someone banged on the door of the Wildcat.
"Go away!" she shouted. "We're closed until seven."
The knocking continued, and she peered through the glass. It was Carter. She wiped her hands and let him inside. Margot was in the cloth dog carrier Stacy had picked out. She barked when Carter went to pick her up.
"Did you find someone to take her?" Allie asked.
"No," Carter replied. "Can I keep paying you?"
"Fine," Allie said. She didn't really want to give Margot up. She had grown fond of her in the few days they had spent together. "Why are you here? You can just send me money over an app, you know." She returned to cutting the citrus.
Carter leaned on the bar. Allie could see the outlines of his muscles rippling under his tight shirt.
Down, girl, she chided herself, trying to focus on not slicing her finger off. No customers.
"I have a proposition for you," Carter said.
"No," she told him. "I don't date customers."
"Wow, full of yourself much?" he said in a mocking tone. "I just want to pay you to pretend to be my fiancée and drive up with me to Connecticut tomorrow for Thanksgiving."
"I'm not spending Thanksgiving with your rich, stuck-up family, no matter how much you pay me," she told him.
"Not even for ten thousand dollars?" he asked.
Her mouth fell open, and her knife slipped. She hissed as the sour juice stung her hand where the knife had cut. She turned to the dump sink and ran her hand under the water. Carter hopped over the bar and rummaged around for first aid supplies.
"You aren't supposed to be back here," she said.
Carter ignored her and bandaged her finger. "So is that a yes?"
"T
en thousand dollars? Sure. Why not? What do I have to do?"
"We'll leave tomorrow morning whenever you are done here. I'll pay for gas, snacks, whatever you need."
"Yes, but what do I have to do once we are at your parents' house? I'm not some nice girl you can show off to your parents."
"Exactly!" Carter said, inspecting the bandage. "Just be your usual grouchy bartender self. Do you have some tattoos?"
She pulled down her shirt collar to expose her tattoos.
"Good. Show them off. I want my parents to be shocked. Just act crazy and trashy. You know the drill. You’ve worked outside of Les DesChamps long enough. Just channel your inner tramp. Oh and," he said, pulling out a ring with the biggest diamond Allie had ever seen, "don't forget to wear this."
"Sure thing," she said, trying not to let him see the desire on her face—for him or the ring, she wasn't sure. "I want all the money cleared in my account first, though."
"I'm transferring it right now," Carter said, whipping out his phone.
Allie received a text that a transfer was pending to her account.
"Text me when you're going to come pick me up," Carter said.
"Carter!" Stacy squealed as she saw him.
"Bye, have to go," he said and ran out the door.
"I missed him. What was he here for?" Stacy demanded.
Allie shook her head. "He just had a job for me to do for him over Thanksgiving."
"What job?" Stacy asked.
"Nothing. Something dumb. But he'll pay me enough to pay for the rest of my degree."
"You aren't sleeping with him?"
"Absolutely not," Allie replied.
"Good," Stacy said. "Because Carter Holbrook is mine."
After a relatively quiet night—many of her patrons were already on leave for Thanksgiving—Allie cleaned up the bar, dropped Stacy off at the apartment, and quickly packed her bag.
Carter wanted trashy? She could do trashy.
She looked through her selection of worn black and grey clothes. She chose the black jeans with large holes, worn black tights, cropped shorts, and the black combat boots she always wore. Several black and grey T-shirts with dirty language also came out of the drawer. She threw all of it in a crusty duffel bag, packed some things for Margot in a box, and put the little dog in her carrier. She dumped everything in the trunk of her car, minus the dog and her laptop case, which went in the back seat, and drove over to pick up Carter.