Weekend Wife: A Fake Fiancée Romantic Comedy Standalone

by Erin McCarthy

  It was all good.

  Luggage all zipped up and resting against the wall, I went in search of Grant, wondering if he had drowned in the shower or fallen asleep. He was in the second bedroom, which was set up as an office. He was sitting behind the desk, at his laptop. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and I suspected he was totally naked.

  “Hey,” he said, glancing up at me. “Sorry. Something came up at work and I had to address it. Are you all packed?”

  “Yep. Many expensive garments ready to roll out for a forty-eight-hour trip.” I went around the desk and glanced at his computer.

  It was an aerial view of a portion of the city. For some reason, it looked familiar to me. “Where is that?” I asked. What was it about that one block? “Show me the street view.”

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a development project downtown.” He closed his laptop with a definitive slap. “I shouldn’t be working when I have such a fascinating houseguest.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  Grant spun his chair around so he was facing me instead of the desk. He had a towel wrapped around his waist. I sat down on his lap, spreading my legs on either side of him. I tugged on his beard and shifted my hips so important parts of me were touching parts of him. “You should pack,” I murmured.

  “I should.” His hands gripped my waist and he pulled me closer against him. “And we need to get you some pants or that’s never going to happen. Because your body is very, very tempting.”

  I backed off, making sure to wiggle my ass over every inch of his lap as I did before standing up. “I don’t want to be responsible for you not packing. Get to it.”

  Grant stood up, and as I was intending to exit the room, he took my hand. “Hey. I want to apologize again for my insensitive comment. I know you work really hard and I want you to know how much I respect your tenacity and your talent.”

  I turned and gave him a little nod. But I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping my arms over my chest, wondering how much I should reveal to Grant. I decided to be honest, because it wasn’t going to shock him. It was just the reality of being a struggling actress in New York. I never revealed my fear, and I was going to downplay it here, but he clearly felt bad. And I wanted him to understand, wanted him to know that I wasn’t like him. Doors wouldn’t magically open for me.

  “I know you didn’t mean anything. It’s okay. Like I said, it’s just sometimes I wonder where to go from here. My parents thought I was insane to want to move to the city. My mother thought I was going to be murdered and my father worried some asshole director would sexually harass me. They both thought I was going to starve and live in a rat-infested apartment. The only thing they were wrong about was I was not murdered,” I said wryly. “But I’ve gotten to what I consider a reasonable place of self-sufficiency but that concern for survival is still there. It will always be there. I don’t even care about being a huge star or being famous. I just want to be able to do what I love and pay my bills. Chorus girl in a long-running show would be a dream job for me. But what if that never even happens?” I shrugged.

  “What if it does?” Grant asked simply. “And if it doesn’t, you just said you’re in a reasonable place, so what is wrong with that? I know that I’ve had a huge advantage in life, so I don’t come from the same place as you do, but I do know that most people achieve success after a lot of hard work and grinding determination. You have that kind of moxie, Leah. I’ve seen it.”

  Did I have moxie? I thought I did. I wanted to believe I did, and God, there was something so sweet about the billionaire giving me a pep talk. With my friends, it was hard to be vulnerable or afraid because I felt responsible for dragging them down with me. If I said it was impossible to succeed in New York, that was spitting on their dreams too, and I couldn’t do that. But if I spoke the truth to Grant, I wasn’t going to affect his morale. He might actually be a safe person to confide in.

  “Do you want to know my worst fear? And I don’t mean roaches,” I said. If I wanted Grant to know me, the real me, this was an important part of what motivated me. Or maybe, what held me back.

  And for whatever reason, I did want Grant to know the real me. He kept asking which was the real me and which was the actress speaking. Well, this was the truth. What I’d already said and what I was going to dig just a little deeper into.

  “Yes,” Grant said. “If you’re willing to share.”

  “My fear is total failure. That I won’t even get small parts anymore. I’ll just be going and going, trying to make this work, then one day I wake up and realize it will never happen. And then what? Because all of my friends moved in different directions and they’ve found success. I don’t have any other talents or skills. There is no backup plan. None. I’m not great at anything other than pretending to be what I’m not. That’s terrifying.”

  “If you’ve never tried anything else how do you know you’re not good at anything? I think you’re underselling yourself.”

  “No. Trust me. I am not good at numbers, or selling things, or crafting, or dealing with children. I can’t make soap or jewelry, I don’t have a degree that would allow me to tutor or teach, and I feel woozy at the sight of blood or needles so anything in the medical industry is out. What am I supposed to do?” All of that made my throat tighten and my eye twitch. I squeezed my arms tighter around me.

  “Leah. Look at me.” He put his hands on my upper arms and gently rubbed.

  I tried to stop panicking and met Grant’s penetrating gaze. “What?”

  “If there’s no other option, then your only option is success. Nikki Sixx from Mötley Crüe always said he had no other plan. There was no backup so he had to make music work. That’s the way you have to approach it. There’s no giving up, there’s no searching for an out. You’re all in. You’re my little Nikki Sixx.”

  It made me feel warm inside, both because Grant was trying to encourage me and because I felt like he really listening to me. That he got me.

  His little Nikki Sixx. His.

  I could fall in love with Grant. I realized it suddenly, with one shocking wave of lightheadedness and hot cheeks. I was falling in love with Grant.

  What hadn’t upset me was just his saying the video wasn’t technically viral, it was also that he had pulled back from me. It had felt a little dismissive and that had bothered me because my heart was getting drawn into this fake relationship with Grant.

  Oh, shit. Where was my self-preservation?

  How could I be so blind? I’d been heading for this moment since I’d chased him and gotten hit by a cab and he’d peeled me off the street.

  I’d talked to him, flirted with him, every day. I’d confessed my deepest fear.

  Not a fake relationship, Leah. Way to ensure your heart is thoroughly shattered. Good job.

  I focused on his statement of total confidence. “Success is my only option, huh?” I said. “I’m not sure if that’s encouraging or terrifying, but thank you. I appreciate you listening to me. You’re a good man, Grant.”

  He shook me a little. “You’ve got this, Leah. I would bet Vegas odds on you.”

  I took a deep breath. I was so far in, it wasn’t that I had a choice. I couldn’t switch gears on my career now. I could however, save myself from falling head over ass for Grant.

  Keep it light. “Well, I don’t want you to lose your shirt so I guess I’ll keep at it.”

  Grant kissed my forehead. “You’re badass and don’t forget it. You got hit by a cab and took it on the chin.”

  That made me smile, even when I didn’t want to. “True.”

  “Can I tell you something?” he asked, shifting his hands into mine and pulling my arms down by my sides.

  “What?”

  “I lied when I said I don’t have any fears.”

  That startled me and I didn’t say anything, just waited. I had a feeling Grant was about to reveal a truth he didn’t share with a lot of people, if anyone.

  I wanted to hear what he was going
to say. I needed to hear it. I was afraid to hear it.

  Maybe it would be something horrible that would save me from the torment of falling in love with him.

  Or maybe it would seal the deal and I would be screwed.

  I couldn’t believe I was going to get real with Leah.

  But she had been honest and vulnerable and not only did it seem unfair to her to let her think that I was a man without any baggage, I felt like she wasn’t like my family and co-workers. She wasn’t going to judge me or scoff or perceive me displaying any emotion at all as a sign of weakness. I had learned a long time ago in my life that the smartest form of protection was icy indifference.

  I didn’t want to be either icy or indifferent with Leah.

  “I’ve spent most of my life alone,” I told her. “And sometimes I think I’m going to be like Ebenezer Scrooge, old and surrounded by wealth, but nothing else.”

  Holy fuck, I’d said it out loud and the earth hadn’t opened up and swallowed me. She wasn’t rolling her eyes or laughing or acting like I was ridiculous.

  Instead she squeezed my hands and said, “You had a lonely childhood, didn’t you?”

  I nodded. “Yes. My parents were never around and I wasn’t really allowed to mingle much with other kids, except at the park. Rose was my only constant, and then my mother fired her when I was twelve because she thought I was too old for a nanny. Which I was.” The memory still made my nostrils flare and my stomach clench. “But Rose was my mother, for all practical and emotional purposes. And they cut me off from the only person who had ever loved me and wouldn’t even let me interact with her.”

  “Oh, God, that’s horrible.” Leah’s thumbs gently rubbed over the backs of my hands. “I can’t even imagine.” She did look horrified. “Why weren’t you allowed to see her?”

  “My mother said my affection for Rose was unnatural.” I shook my head. “Apparently, it’s fine to love your nanny at five years old but at twelve my mother deemed it weird. So Rose disappeared and I got sent to boarding school.”

  And that was the day I stopped caring about trying to gather my parents’ love and started doing what I wanted.

  “That’s just cruel, Grant. I’m so sorry.” She kissed me softly. “But you can choose to live your life now however you want. You don’t have to be Ebenezer. You’re not a Scrooge now, I can tell you that. You’ve been nothing but considerate of my ankle injury and generous with tips and gifts. I think you’re a good guy. You can love your job and work long hours and still be a man with a personal life.”

  Maybe she had a point. Maybe I wasn’t as cold-hearted as I thought I was sometimes.

  My moral compass was way more on target than my mother’s, that was for sure. I avoided relationships so I didn’t hurt anyone. Maybe who I was hurting was mostly myself.

  “That’s true in theory, but I’m not good at the juggling act and I don’t want to hurt someone. Especially not someone I care about.” Like her. Like Leah.

  Leah tilted her head and those expressive eyes studied me. “Grant. Don’t make an adult woman’s choice for her. If she wants to love you, let her. She’s a big girl and knows that any relationship carries the risk of being hurt.”

  Was she talking about herself? I had no fucking clue.

  All I knew was that I wanted her to be talking about herself.

  I wasn’t going to go there though. Not yet. Maybe after this weekend we could move into something… else. Something more. Something that wasn’t fake.

  “As a side note, I defied my parents and found Rose living in Florida with her adult son. I booked myself a first-class ticket out of LaGuardia with my father’s credit card and flew down there for Christmas break. I did that every year through middle school and high school and they never said shit about it.” The memory did make me smile. “Rose made me chocolate chip pancakes every Christmas morning.”

  Leah’s face softened as she realized now why I’d started coming to the diner. “Oh. That sounds like a wonderful way to spend Christmas.”

  I’d sliced open my chest and shown Leah my heart. Yes, she was gazing at me like she wanted to scoop up the little boy that I’d been and hug me. But there was also admiration in her expression. And neither of those responses made me uncomfortable. I didn’t want to toss off an asshole comment and shut down the conversation.

  I trusted her.

  It was a fantastic feeling.

  Which meant I needed to tell her I was intending to tear down the theater she loved if I wanted any chance of this being something.

  But later.

  After we got back from the Hamptons.

  “It was.” I kissed her knuckles and stepped back. “Now how about that drink?”

  She pursed her lips together, like she was going to say something else.

  I waited, tense.

  But she just smiled. “I’m not packing your stuff. Don’t think I am.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. I am perfectly capable of packing for myself. Loner, remember?” I gestured around my apartment. “I take care of myself.”

  Leah’s eyebrows shot up. “You clean your own apartment?”

  Well. “Okay, so not that. I have a cleaning service. But, I make my own bed. Does that count for anything?”

  “I’m impressed.” Leah moved to the doorway. She turned, hair spilling down her back, her lean legs still bare beneath her sweatshirt. “I like talking to you. Just in case you were wondering.”

  My gut clenched. “I like talking to you too.”

  The rest of the night we stuck to banter, with Leah extolling the virtues of why she loved the movie Overboard as she stood in my closet and watched me pack. “How can anyone not love Goldie Hawn?”

  “I do appreciate Goldie Hawn.” There was no way in fucking hell I was going to admit I’d gone home after work that day she’d explained her “Hi, Grant!” routine and had watched the movie. Nope. Never going to happen.

  “How is it her character is such a bitch in the beginning but you still just find her hilarious?” Leah was sitting on the closet floor leaning against the doorframe. Her knees were up and tucked under her sweatshirt. Occasionally she would reach out and touch the hem of one of my pairs of pants that were hanging to the left of her.

  “I don’t know. Good acting, I guess.” I opened the drawer that housed my socks and pulled out what was necessary. It felt intimate as hell to have her watching me pack. Plenty of women had seen me unpack in a hotel room, but no one had been in my closet while I packed.

  At least Leah wouldn’t be lying about half the things she might say to my parents. She probably knew more about me than ninety-five percent of people in my life.

  That thought had me slamming the drawer shut.

  Now that was a fucked-up statement.

  At least I could reassure myself she knew nothing about my work. It seemed important that I remain elusive on some level otherwise I’d really be in trouble.

  Again, a fucked-up statement.

  “Do you think it’s possible to forgive someone for lying about something as huge as who you are? Like she forgives Kurt Russell even though he gave her a completely false identity in order to have her clean his house. Could you forgive someone for that?”

  That was a hell of a lie. “My gut reaction is hell no. How about you?”

  “I don’t know. It depends on the context.”

  Maybe she would forgive me then for withholding the information that I was trying to buy the theater. To tear it down. That wasn’t horrible in the grand scheme of things. More like an omission, not an actual lie.

  Not that it mattered.

  We had a business deal. Nothing more.

  Even if I didn’t believe that anymore.

  “Then you’re a better person than me if you can forgive a man telling you you’re a totally different person, who has children, when in fact, you don’t.”

  “You did watch the movie! I knew it.” She grinned at me.

  Shit. “You don’t know that.” />
  “Yes, I do. I am the wisest woman in the world, according to you.”

  That made me laugh. “I said that under the influence of you naked. You can’t hold me to that.”

  “Bullshit. You adore me, just admit it.”

  I wasn’t going to admit that any more than I was that I’d watched Overboard. Our truth time was over for the night.

  “You’re someone I don’t object to spending time with.”

  Leah let out a peal of laughter. “You know how to flatter a girl.”

  “That’s why you love being my fake girlfriend.”

  “It doesn’t suck.”

  I closed my suitcase and zipped it. I eased past Leah, making sure my legs brushed against her and she was eye level with my cock. “Sorry. Excuse me.”

  “You’re lucky you’re wearing pants.”

  “Why, were you going to make my day?” I would love to see her get on her knees and…

  “If squeezing your balls would make your day, then yes.”

  Not what I was hoping. Even though I knew she was just giving me shit, it still made me wince a little. “Oh, hey, hey now. Let’s leave the boys out of this.”

  Leah laughed. “Calm down. Give me a hand. I need one more teeny tiny glass of wine, then I’m ready for bed. What time are we leaving tomorrow?”

  I helped her off the floor. “Noon-ish. So we can sleep in. Or you know, do other things before we leave.”

  “What things?” She gave me a cheeky look. “Make breakfast?”

  “We can do that. Or we can go to the restaurant across the street. Or we can skip breakfast and spend the entire morning in bed.”

  “I’m not a morning person.”

  Now she was just being contrary. She worked in the morning. She was always cheerful and on at the diner.

  “What you are is sassy.” I went to pull her against me, but she shrieked and ran away from me, laughing.

  “Where are you going?”

  Leah peeled her sweatshirt off. The damn thing was like a theater curtain. Huge and covering the stage. When it rose, it was showtime. I took two hard steps toward her, but she climbed onto my bed and stretched in a glorious display of skin and curves.