Real Love, Fake Marriage

by Vesper Young

  Rose Dukas. Great.

  My jealousy was stupid. I knew that. I knew how important this deal was to Deacon, and it was clear he didn’t enjoy working on it. But like he said, he had a purpose. Which meant Rose being here was no accident.

  I couldn’t blame him. When he’d described the gala, he mentioned events like this had the added benefit of networking, and since the Dukas family apparently only wanted to conduct business after hours, this was the best way to do it.

  Deacon apparently chose that moment to notice my attention. Rose was currently wandering the area, which meant it was a perfect time to strike.

  So I did my good little wifey thing and said, “Oh, isn’t that Rose? Honey, why don’t you tell her hello from me while I talk with Donna?”

  He nodded, kissed Donna and me on the cheek, and strode across the room.

  Damn. Even moving in a crowd where it was easy to get shoved or lost, he managed to seem like he was in control of the entire space.

  “You play your role well.”

  Startled, I turned to Donna.

  “His mother played the same part for Frederick. Helping with the social aspects of business.”

  Oh. I let out a breath. For a moment I thought she’d meant my role as wife. Which could be catastrophic since Donna was included as someone who could veto the legitimacy of Deacon’s inheritance in case of foul play.

  “What was she like?”

  “Oh, Clarisse Blake was the love of his life. She was everything Frederick needed. Kind, humorous. Loved to garden and play games. She loved her family terribly much. It was a cruel thing.” There was a sense of tremendous wistfulness in her voice.

  “Deacon said he was four when she passed.”

  Donna nodded. “I remember. It was sudden, a car accident. After that, the family was hurt. I tried to raise Deacon best I could, but a boy needs his father.” She sighed. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but facts are fact. After Clarisse died, Frederick was never the same. He tossed himself into work, only stumbling home in exhaustion on the weekends. And then inevitably he’d head back in on Sunday, to get a jump on things.”

  “Poor Deacon.” I couldn’t imagine, losing one parent and the other one all but being gone as well.

  “He was a good kid. Worked hard. Too hard, in fact. I think he equated work with his father, and there was nothing he wanted more badly than to be with his father. To have his love and respect.” She made a sad smile. “Truthfully, he always had his father’s love, but no matter what I said I don’t know that he ever believed it.”

  I’d heard Deacon talk about his father over the next few months. And I suspected even now, Deacon was still longing for that connection. That was why he fought so hard to keep his father’s company.

  “You know, they want to take the company away from him,” I said.

  Donna let out a derisive huff. “Oh, I’m well aware of the situation Fred put Deacon in. I was there as a witness when the will was changed, and nothing I could say would sway him. He was stubborn to the end.”

  “Do you know why?” I asked, probing. It was such a strange clause.

  She gave me a small, secret smile. “You know Fred planned out his entire funeral and wake? He took care of everything, down to the coffin selection. Positively morbid.”

  That surprised me. I’d never thought about who organized everything.

  “You could say it was because he was a control freak. You certainly wouldn’t be wrong to. After Clarisse, he was worse than ever, and I dare say that’s what Deacon modeled himself after. But I think in this, and perhaps other areas of his last months, he was trying to make things easier on Deacon, to take that burden from him.”

  I wondered what the other areas were, but didn’t have time to ask as a voice came over the speakers, asking for our attention.

  I blinked in surprise when Deacon was introduced. Even from a distance, you could see he was utterly handsome.

  “Good evening,” he said. “As you’ve just heard, I’m Deacon Blake. Some of you know me, more of you, my father, Frederick. This past summer he died of pancreatic cancer. It’s a terrible, painful disease, and I hope none of you ever see your loved ones go through that. However, I know he received the best care possible at St. Vincent’s. Because of their fastidious treatment, I was able to spend several months with my father I otherwise would not have had. Because of them, I was able to introduce him to my now wife, Mindy Blake.” He gestured towards me, causing several looks in my direction. I didn’t care—I was focused on every word he said.

  “As she told me once told me, it’s unfair that he had cancer. There’s no clearer injustice than having someone taken from you like that. St. Vincent’s worked hard to prolong our goodbye, and for that, I am grateful. This is why tonight I am donating five million dollars in Frederick Blake’s name directly to the hospital, and another five million as a fund for any of those who need the aid of St. Vincent’s but cannot afford it, as the Mindy Killip Blake Foundation.”

  Ten. Million. Dollars. Gasps went up throughout the room.

  He leaned into the microphone. “I hope you all understand what this hospital means to me and are inspired to help them continue in the work they do.”

  The man who had earlier introduced himself to the crowd as the head of the hospital shook Deacon’s hand. They posed for a few photos, and then Deacon made his way down the side of the stairs.

  I had tears in my eyes by the time he reached me. Without thinking, I threw my arms around him and pulled him into a hug.

  His arms wrapped around me, holding me. Not only had he donated to the cause, but he’s set up a fund for people who might not be able to afford the state-of-the-art care provided. In my name.

  “You’re incredible,” I told him.

  He answered with a kiss.

  And there went another piece of my heart.

  Mindy 29

  The days leading up to the quarterly meeting reminded me of when Deacon and I had first married. Mainly in that I never saw him, and when I did, we didn’t talk. Once again, the distance between us was icy and treacherous once more. I missed him. Somehow in this convoluted act, I’d begun to think of him as my husband. I wished I could tell Kara the truth, but I couldn’t.

  Then again, Kara had learned a long time ago not to trust men to be there forever. Enjoy it while it lasts, she’d say.

  Yeah. Enjoy it, I thought miserably.

  I wondered if it was even worth trying to fix. In another month or so, we’d “divorce” and go our separate ways. I wouldn’t spend my evenings working out with him in the private gym or explore trendy corners of the city on our weekly date nights. Wouldn’t meet with clients, which I’d come to enjoy for the challenge of it. Wouldn’t convince Deacon to play cards with me and get to see how quickly he could adapt his strategy to whatever game I taught him.

  I probably wouldn’t ever see him again. We didn’t exactly run in the same circles.

  I glanced down at the band on my finger. Simple, elegant. The twin to the one on his hand.

  It was early. Or maybe it was just really, really late. I stared into the darkness, thinking back to the past months. To before, when he’d just been my arrogant, workaholic boss. And then to every moment I’d seen another side of Deacon Blake.

  I noticed the moment he woke up. His breathing was still deep, but lacked the completely restful rise and fall I knew. His soft exhales disappeared.

  It was too early for him to get up. This was his normal time, I knew that. But I wanted to be petulant and ask him to lay with me a little longer, to play pretend husband and wife.

  To pretend this wasn’t ending.

  To pretend I was more than a means to an end, as if there’d really been something between us.

  I shook away the thought, refusing to let myself linger on the impossible. Besides, it was selfish. This was perhaps the most important day of his career; the future of his father’s company hinged on him presenting to the board and convincing them not t
o turn tail and sell off their shares. I wouldn’t jeopardize that.

  “Morning.” His sleep-roughened voice greeted me.

  “Good morning.” My own voice was tired. I felt like I hadn’t slept a wink.

  We lay there for another moment. Any second, he would leave. Any second. And I should let him.

  He began to inch away.

  Let him, I told myself. Just let this, whatever it is, run its course.

  But I couldn’t.

  “Would you like me to be there?” I asked.

  My question caught him off guard. “At the meeting?”

  I nodded, which made me yawn. “For support,” I said.

  His expression gave away nothing, but I’d learned the giveaways of his voice. “I’d like that.”

  I stayed in bed while he showered and dressed. He looked every bit the powerful businessman I’d heard his father to be. It wasn’t just the clothes, though the suit gave him polish. It was the way he carried himself, as if he was going to war and refused to blink in the face of it.

  “Your father would be proud,” I murmured.

  I didn’t know why I said it. I’d only met Frederick those couple of times, didn’t know him a fraction as well as Deacon did. But how couldn’t he be, if he’d known how hard Deacon worked for the company he’d built?

  Evidently, it had been the wrong thing to say. His shoulders stiffened at my words, his jaw locked in place.

  “You don’t know that.” His voice was stone.

  “You’re right,” I admitted. “It was just a thought.”

  He grabbed a tie and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

  I could’ve kicked myself. I knew it was a sore spot, and I’d thoughtlessly hit it smack-dab in the center.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “You don’t know what he was like.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated. “I know I didn’t know him. But I do know he loved you and everything you’ve told me about him makes me think he’d be proud to see you working to protect it.”

  He didn’t say anything to that. He simply walked out, not looking back. A moment later I heard the front door shut behind him.

  I was tempted to run and apologize again, but evidently all I was doing was riling him up when he needed to be collected for this meeting. I’d probably only make it worse if I went after him.

  Maybe I shouldn’t even go. At this rate, I’d ruin all the hard work he’d done. He’d hate me for that, I was sure. Sometimes it was so easy to be with Deacon. But maybe I just made things hard for him. I suspected the feelings I felt ran one way. Sure, we’d been sleeping together. And occasionally he surprised me with tulips when he came home. It was possible that when I wasn’t reminding him about living up to his dead father’s standards, he liked me, I imagined. But we didn’t fit.

  I wondered if there even was room for someone in his life outside of Blake Enterprises.

  My thoughts remained glum throughout the morning. I perked up a bit when I made coffee from the pods; he’d started having my cheap-o brand stocked and I’d once even got him to admit it tasted better. He’d qualified it, saying “in certain situations,” which had probably meant “when I want Mindy to stop saying ‘admit it, admit it, admit it’ over and over again,” but hey, it counted.

  I felt my cheeks widen into a smile. Then I remembered our fight.

  For the tenth time, I reached for my phone to send off a quick apology. I put it back down on the counter without sending the message, determined not to ruin his concentration further, when it began to buzz.

  Was it him? I hated how excited the thought made me.

  The lit-up screen displayed an unfamiliar number, the small text under the number reading DESTIN, FLORIDA.

  Probably spam. Even if it wasn’t Wilmont Collections, I wasn’t a fan. It was a testament to how bad my need to get my mind off Deacon was that I answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Mindy Killip?” a polite voice asked.

  “To whom am I speaking?” My secretary voice was in full effect, harkening back to all the calls I’d fielded when I worked for Blake Enterprises.

  “This is the Sunshine Care Facility. We’re calling on behalf of a patient, Eveline Killip.”

  Deacon 30

  I paced in my office, counting down the minutes until I had to head to the board room, hating how I’d left things with Mindy.

  I tried to focus on my presentation. The slide deck was solid. I ran through it in my head. A brief discussion of quarterly growth—substantially up. A reiteration of my goals—expansion. And then bring in Dukas to announce our new partnership. It was critical I be ready. Harold, certainly, was likely to try and pick apart every inch of my presentation, and what he did, the others followed.

  But instead, my mind was stuck in this morning. The utter sweetness when she offered to come. The lurch in my chest when I realized I actually wanted her there. And then the way I’d crushed her when she’d tried to be kind.

  It wasn’t her fault. I knew that now and I’d known it then. Yet her words had hit upon something I’d avoided for months. That he wouldn’t be proud of me. That while he technically hadn’t disinherited me, he’d tried to ensure I wouldn’t keep the company. Why else force me to either marry or lose everything?

  Let alone the fact even at his most sentimental, I knew he hadn’t lost his business sense. He had to have been aware of Harold and the rest of the board’s desire to jump ship. But instead of empowering me to take control, he’d drilled a hole in my lifeboat.

  I wished I could talk to him. It was an odd impulse given we’d never talked when he was alive. Growing up, if I needed some emotional need met, I had Donna. Once older, I made sure I didn’t need anyone and tried to make him see Blake Enterprises needed me. After all, it was also my name was on the building.

  In the hospital, I’d barely been able to stomach looking at him, let alone having a heart-to-heart. To avoid it, I’d even invented a fake girlfriend.

  Which brought me right back to Mindy and the way I hurt her.

  Claudia appeared in my doorway. “Sir, I think it’s time for you to head to your eleven o’clock meeting.”

  I nodded once in acknowledgment. I wondered if Mindy would even come after the way I’d treated her this morning.

  The slide deck and papers would be brought by Claudia when she joined me, so it didn’t take more than a moment to collect myself and head down the hall. I greeted Elias and Rose. For once, he’d changed from business casual to a suit. The board cared about appearances, definitely more than warranted. I also played a part, wearing one of the nicest suits I’d owned. Belatedly, I realized I hadn’t worn it since shortly after my father’s death.

  “Where’s your wife?” Elias asked, peering behind me as if she’d appear.

  I resisted the urge to look for her myself and instead gave a non-committal answer, ignoring his disapproving look. He was rather fond of my wife. I was confident there was nothing improper about his interest, but his inquiry irked me nonetheless. I didn’t need a reminder of that uncertainty.

  A glance at my watch told me it was time to head in. The rest of the board was seated. I took the time to greet each of them, casually, reminding them I’d been around a lot longer than the past five months. I directed Elias and Rose to a set of seats I’d had Claudia reserve.

  Claudia wasn’t here yet. My eye twitched in annoyance. I hated tardiness, and I wasn’t keen to stall waiting for her. Nor was I keen to lose face, walking out to get her and the slide deck myself.

  Just when my irritation was dangerously close to boiling over, she flew in.

  “Sir, could I see you in the hall for a moment? It’s about your wife.”

  Alarm coursed through me, but I remained composed, following her outside and shutting the door.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Well, you see, the credit card company called this morning and they said her card triggered a fraud alert due to unusual purchases. I t
old them it was noted and to halt activity pending investigation.”

  I wondered how her card could’ve been compromised considering she’d gone through great pains not to use it outside of the single dress purchased weeks ago. Still, why was this urgent?

  I voiced my annoyance.

  “So they called me back, or rather you, but you know how it goes to me, anyway, to update on the purchase. Apparently she overrode the fraud alert since it was her, but then they wound up calling all associated account numbers which is how I found out. When they called back, I guess I asked what for, maybe it was nosey. Mr. Blake, I know it’s not really any of my business, but your wife booked a one-way ticket to Florida—”

  “The fuck?” I exclaimed. “Where? When?”

  “Well, the flight was headed to DSI in Florida. It left about an hour ago.”

  “Why the hell wasn’t I told sooner?”

  Claudia looked about ready to cry, likely convinced I’d fire her. “Well, this morning you said you weren’t to be bothered, and I really figured it was just fraud. They only called back a few minutes ago. It wasn’t a priority since your wife said it was okay.”

  Okay? It wasn’t okay. She was across the country for some reason, having booked a one-way ticket after our fight. And once she was there, would she stay there? Or leave? The contract stipulated weekly public meetings. Logically, I knew she’d be back. She wouldn’t jeopardize having her debts cleared.

  I hadn’t told her I’d already had the debt paid off months ago, so she didn’t know that no longer hung over her.

  But then, our relationship hadn’t been strictly adhering to the contract. It had been messy. Emotional. Chaotic and peaceful and dangerously close to a real marriage. And perhaps this morning I had pushed her too far.

  She wasn’t coming. She was running away.

  I should ignore this crisis, send my P.I. out for good measure, and worry about it after I regained the confidence of the board. If I missed this meeting, it was as good as throwing away the company.