Grace's Fake Groom

by Francesca Lane

  “And you’d like me to join you?”

  She quirked her head to the side, her eyes like saucers. Sarcastic saucers. “Yes. That’s why I said ‘we’re’.”

  “I can do that.”

  She allowed her arm to drop to her side, a look of resignation pulling down the corners of her mouth. Chase swallowed. The moment stood between them like the stereotypical elephant hogging up space. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to smooth away that smile, and draw her into an embrace, but would his intentions be misconstrued?

  Likely.

  So he stayed put. No need to carry on the charade outside of the public’s eye. He’d meet her siblings tomorrow night and play his part to convince them that nothing was amiss in this sudden union with their sister. The women, he knew, he could convince. The brother might be tougher opposition to contend with, that is, if any of them actually opposed Grace’s marriage. Had he asked her about their reactions?

  “Well, guess I better get this little guy fed.” She squatted down to pet Zeke, who had collapsed in a circular heap by her toes. “You hungry, buddy?”

  Zeke raised his small head, then let it drop back down again. Chase squatted next to them and cupped his palm over the pup’s head. He glanced at Grace, considering the variations of emotions he’d seen run across her face in the past few minutes. She’d come in breathless yet seemingly content. That had changed in a short time until she settled in to what appeared to be resignation.

  Though this was a business arrangement from the start, and she was being paid well for her part in it, Chase couldn’t help the tug on his insides to make the entire month as tolerable as possible.

  “Tell you what,” he said. “I’ll feed Zeke and take up walking duties tonight after I spend some time working.”

  “That’s what I’d planned.”

  “Really. What about tossing a coin for the rotation?”

  Grace stood up and stretched her lithe body side to side, a breathy sigh filling the quiet. “I already did,” she finally said, “and you lost.”

  Six

  “Dad, it’s good to hear your voice.”

  “It’s good for me to hear it too.” His father laughed in that old way of his, the sound of it comforting.

  Phone in ear, Chase trudged on through the sand, letting the leash out more until Zeke could test the temperature of sea water with his paws. Chase stopped and took in the setting sun over the shuddering waves. “Amelia says you are doing better than expected,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “That woman is trying to kill me with her constant needling, always forcing me to eat, and to take poisons.”

  “Dad …”

  “Enough about my, uh, health. How is … how is the girl?”

  Chase swallowed the lump in his throat. Did his father not remember Grace’s name? Again? “You mean my wife.” Even to his ears the words were foreign-sounding, the feel of them strange on his tongue. “You remember her name, don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes. The woman.”

  “Whose name is …”

  “Where are you anyway?” His father’s voice had turned surly. “I never see you anymore. When are you coming around?”

  Chase frowned. Where had this neediness come from, this sudden change of mood? His father had always been the one with more appointments than calendar, more visitors than quiet.

  “Dad, let’s try this again. You remember the cruise, yes?”

  “Um. Yes.”

  “Good. And the woman who was with me. Pretty, blonde … kind smile. You remember her, too, right?”

  “Um …”

  “Think, Dad. She and I were married! Right in front of you!”

  A pause followed by what sounded like the phone tumbling around inside of a dryer. Finally, a guarded voice came on the line.

  “Chase, it’s Amelia.”

  “Where’s my dad?”

  “He is taking a rest.”

  He clicked his jaw, the sea no longer the comfort it had been, the sun now gone and darkness rolling in. “Put him back on a moment. I’d like to say goodnight.”

  “I’m not going to do that, dear.”

  Chase clenched his jaw. “Why not?”

  Amelia continued, her voice gentle but firm. “It is very important that your father not become unduly stressed.”

  “He doesn’t remember Grace’s name. I was attempting to help him.”

  “By extracting it like you are taking a deposition? No, Chase. That is not helpful to your father. Remembering that you have a wife at all is an accomplishment at this stage.”

  “But …”

  “I must insist that you do not stress him. It will do no good, Chase. And it very well may do harm.”

  “I see.”

  Amelia’s voice softened. “Chase? I want to say that it’s a good thing you married Grace when you did. Your father is so pleased … when he remembers it. I know this is something that he deeply wanted for you, even if he isn’t as aware of it as we all would want.”

  Chase said goodbye to his father’s nurse and shoved his phone back into the pocket of his windbreaker. Amelia didn’t know about the arrangement Tim had made regarding passing the baton to him, a stipulation that still gnawed at him. He didn’t feel much like walking anymore and it was a good thing—Zeke didn’t either. The puppy had found a pile of discarded mussels to sniff and pee on, and then promptly collapsed beside them on wet sand, as if done for the night.

  In one swift move, Chase lifted the puppy and carried him back to the house, cradling him. He left his sandy shoes by the door and stepped inside, the savory aromas of garlic and oregano greeting him. His stomach growled in response, and he wandered into the kitchen, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light.

  Grace stood in front of the old, chef-grade stove, tending to a pot of something, the burnished light from the overhead fixture cascading down the messy bun she’d pulled her hair into. The light continued down along the long, slender trail of her shoulders. She hummed softly, her yoga pants rolled up, her feet bare.

  He stopped, waiting, his whirring mind slowing to an easy speed. The dog grew comfortably heavy in his arms, his slow and tiny breaths making damp spots on Chase’s arm. He continued watching her, the moment like a gift just for him. Whatever it was that had gotten him so dusted up and riled minutes before had fluttered away on a tendril of heat wafting from the stove.

  She turned abruptly, her eyes widening for an instant. She regarded him in a way he could not quite interpret.

  “Well?” she finally said.

  He took a step further. “Well … what?”

  She stirred the air with the wooden spoon in her hand, as if conjuring up conversation. “Are you ready to eat?”

  A slow grin stretched across his face. He couldn’t have stopped it if he’d tried. He hadn’t had a home-cooked meal in years. Living in LA had provided him ample opportunity to dine on just about any kind of food one could imagine—most within walking distance of his condo. Chase had savored some of the best that the city had to offer.

  But at the moment, not one of those dishes came to mind.

  The way Chase dug into seconds of her spaghetti and meatballs, a person might think that the man had never had a home-cooked meal in his life. What a tragedy!

  Grace continued to watch him, not in a creepy way, but in between bites of noodles she allowed her gaze to take him in. Though he ate with gusto and flashed her a smile in between bites, something heavy lingered. She supposed it had to do with the predicament they’d found themselves in. Living a lie, but not able to correct it just yet—nor for the foreseeable future.

  “You really made this from scratch?” Chase said.

  “I did.”

  That smile again and a slow wag of his head. “Best sauce I think I’ve ever had.”

  Goose bumps raised on her arms and she smiled into her bowl before raising her gaze back to his. “Really? It’s pretty simple.”

  “Doesn’t taste like it.”


  “I’ve been making this sauce since I was pretty little. All of my siblings learned, really. Just need to have patience to slow cook the tomatoes, blending them with oregano and other spices. Oh, and the wooden spoon is important.”

  “That why you were waving it at me when I walked in?”

  She laughed. “Hazard of the sauce-making process. You have to stir the pot regularly with a wooden spoon.” Grace shrugged at him, keeping her expression sober. “Sorry, but it’s true. No wooden spoon, no delicious sauce.”

  He raised a brow at her, but instead of appearing as some kind of chastisement, it looked almost comical up there. “Was your mother Italian?” he asked finally.

  Grace breathed in slowly and exhaled. She shook her head. “No, she wasn’t. But she had easily adopted my father's ways in the kitchen—and we all benefited from it.” She didn’t add that those ways, which centered around fresh food made at home for a fraction of the cost of meals out, were keeping her fed these days.

  “Anyway,” she continued, “I usually make large enough batches that I can freeze some. So I brought a jar with me.”

  “Ah. So that’s the reason I didn’t see you hovering in front of the stove for hours.”

  “Hey, somebody had to go buy the dog food.”

  He frowned, then followed her nod toward an enormous bag of dog food leaned up against the cabinet. “When did that get here?”

  She leaned her head to the side. “I ran out and picked it up when you were asleep on the couch over there.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping—I was resting my eyes.”

  “Oh brother. All I can say is no amount of my huffing and puffing could wake you when I dragged that bad boy in here. Nor when I scrubbed years of dirt off of those old cabinets.” She flung a wave toward the kitchen. “So I guess you were resting those eyes of yours pretty hard.”

  Chase wadded up his napkin and threw it onto the table—only it made hardly a sound. He tried to hide his laughter, but she could see it in the way those gentle crow’s feet reached for his temples. “I might have dozed for a moment.”

  “Emphasis on ‘might have’.” She was laughing now too.

  A grin broke out on his face and he glanced away, as if thinking. When he swung his gaze back to her, he said, “We should probably talk about how we’re going to approach the call with your siblings tomorrow.”

  Her laughter died on her lips. “Right.”

  “I take it you’re not looking forward to it.”

  She shot him a look. “Would you be?”

  “I’ve never had siblings in my life, but I would have to guess no.”

  “You’ve got that right.” She exhaled, having lost her appetite. Grace pushed her plate away. “It’s one thing to keep up the charade when texting, but I’m afraid they’ll see the truth on my face.”

  Chase was quiet now. He rested his forearms on the table and leaned onto them. “Thank you.”

  She frowned. “For what?”

  “For helping me save my business.”

  Grace would like to have taken credit, but the truth was, he’d saved her too. She’d been hired just in time, though even as she strode into work that morning of the uprising in the office, she had no idea how she would pay her rent. Or her student loans. If she were to strip away the variations of truth in all of this, she would confess that he really saved her from going bankrupt. Or at least from going broke.

  Not that she was suddenly rich. Years of scrimping had changed her, and though her bank account looked somewhat healthy at the moment, she knew how quickly things could change. She’d seen it in her own life. In her parents’ lives, too.

  Chase abruptly sat back. “I’ll clean up.”

  Grace opened her mouth to protest, then stopped. Her mind wandered to an earlier time. Her father often lingered in the kitchen, snacking on leftovers, while her mother tidied up. Sometimes he would gently pull the kitchen towel from her hands and shoo her away, kissing her cheek before she went.

  This night was not unlike that in many ways, but at this moment, she’d take what she could get.

  Seven

  “Hey, Slugger.” Chase tossed a foam ball to Zeke, who lifted his head enough to see what had interrupted his nap. The doggy settled back down with a ripple sigh. “Seriously? You’re going to leave me hanging here?”

  Grace peeked over the island, more interested in the heart-to-heart going on between her dog and Chase than in the job search website on the screen in front of her. Not to mention the resume she was updating in a separate tab.

  Some people curled up in rumpled sheets on Sunday mornings, but truthfully, she didn’t have time for that. Not with the clock ticking on this relationship. So much for her plan to ask him to re-hire her after her fake fiancée bit had concluded. After this month at the beach was done, they’d surely be headed for an annulment.

  Somehow she doubted he would ever make the mistake of running a law office with an ex again.

  “Hey.”

  Grace looked up from the screen to find Chase looking over his shoulder at her, a question in his eyes. “Zeke wants to know if you want to go on a walk with us.”

  She bit back a smile. “He does, does he?”

  “He thinks it could ease the tension of tonight’s Skype call if you give him some clues about what to expect.”

  “He said all that, huh?”

  “He’s quite the conversationalist.”

  She gave him a sad smile. “Unfortunately, I’ve got a load to do this morning.”

  Chase frowned. He glanced at Zeke. “Guess she’s found something more important than you, buddy.”

  Zeke whined.

  Chase speared her with a look. “You’re breaking his heart.”

  Grace closed her computer screen, working to keep her expression neutral. “Fine. Let’s go.”

  They slipped their shoes on while Zeke danced expectantly at their feet, his toenails adding character to the wooden floors. Grace pushed down the sense that an impromptu walk on the beach made them look like a “real” family. Would she ever find that kind of life?

  Did she even want that?

  Chase gave her a conciliatory smile. “You ready?”

  “Sure thing.”

  A breeze had kicked up, making the balmy day more comfortable to walk around in. Chase began to walk south along the deep sand when Zeke had another idea and bolted to the west, nearly strangling himself.

  “I think he’s trying to tell you something,” Grace said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, he’s trying to tell me he’s in charge.”

  “Well, isn’t he?”

  Chase laughed, then shrugged. “Guess so.”

  Grace reached for Zeke’s leash. “C’mon, I’ll tell you about my siblings as we walk.”

  “Got it.”

  “Okay. Maggie’s the oldest daughter. She’s a single mom and works as a hairdresser, which is not surprising. She used to watch YouTube videos all the time about hairstyling and then practice on my sisters and me. Oh, and Jake sometimes. It got to the point that he would see her coming down the hall and take off running.”

  Chase laughed.

  “Let’s see. Then there’s Lacy. She’s sort of the middle kid and acts like it. Sarcastic as all get out. Likes to talk about how ignored she was, yada, yada, yada.”

  “I take it none of you apologized.”

  “Hardly.” She grimaced and flashed him a look. “We probably made it even harder on her. But she’s very successful, so I guess we could all take credit for that.”

  “How so?”

  “I think she wanted to show us how wrong we were about her bossiness. Now she supervises a whole bunch of people in the hotel industry. Okay, moving on is me, and then my youngest sister Bella. She’s quite bookish, in that she loves books. Not ebooks, but real books, the kind that smell and can make you sneeze. You’ll usually find her in an old bookstore somewhere. Oh, and she sells essential oils, wears wool felt hats, and never seems to let anything get to her.”
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  “You haven’t mentioned your brother.”

  “Right. Jake is … complicated. He’s the oldest.”

  “Hmm. He’s going to want to kick my—”

  Grace stopped. She looked over her shoulder. “What is it, puppy dog?”

  The dog split the air with a bark then began to dig furiously, wet sand flying behind him. She hadn’t realized that she had, in essence, been dragging Zeke straight-legged across the sand.

  “Must have found treasure,” Chase said.

  They walked back toward the dog, who kept yanking his head and barking presumably at his leash.

  Chase squatted next to him. He patted Zeke’s head and looked up at Grace. “I think he’s trying to tell you something.”

  “Yeah, he wants off the leash, but no way. I’ve got too much to do. If I let him, he’ll waste time here all day long.”

  Chase gave Zeke a conciliatory wink, then grinned at Grace. “Aw, c’mon, Mom. He just wants to be free to dig a little. It can’t hurt for a few minutes.”

  Grace bit the inside of her cheek. She looked around. No other dogs in sight. “Fine. But you’re in charge if he runs off after some birds.”

  Chase gave the dog another churning behind the ears. “Hear that, pup? Don’t get me in trouble.”

  “Oh, there you are!”

  Grace turned to find Wren behind her, her cheeks reddened from the sun, or possibly from being out of breath.

  “Were you looking for me?” She glanced over her shoulder briefly to see Chase grabbing for his phone as it rang, still down on his haunches next to Zeke.

  “Yes! I’ve got gobs of lavender growing in my yard, just gobs of it. Here.” She shoved a freshly cut bunch into Grace’s arms. “All the rainfall we’ve been getting has been enough to fill up our reservoirs and deep water gardens.”

  The sweet and woody smell of the blooms in her arms conjured up memories that Grace had long thought buried. She inhaled another breath, allowing it to linger in her senses, barely cognizant of another distinct aroma. Cinnamon, maybe?