by A. C. Arthur
Damn, he was bringing up the African wedding.
After going on permanent disability leave from the hospital where he’d worked in the maintenance department seven years ago, Jacoby had developed a routine of fixing a pot of fresh-ground coffee every morning. He’d pour that coffee into the old, stained, white carafe with the faded flowers on the front and take it to the back porch with him. There he’d sit from eight to ten, listening to the birds and smelling the fresh morning air—at least that’s how he explained it.
She should be pissed at Daisy for taking him the paper with her picture on it, but then again, at least her sister was doing her part to help take care of him.
“It’s my job,” she said and then wanted to snatch the words back.
“You’re working as some man’s fiancée?”
That sounded awful.
“His family’s company is the one I came here to meet with. They’ve agreed to give me a six-week trial period.” She paused and took a deep breath. “In exchange for this opportunity, I agreed to be the guy’s fake fiancée. It’s to help with a sales campaign they’re running. That’s all, Dad. It’s not real.”
And that somehow didn’t make it sound better. She was sure her father would feel the same way, which was precisely why she hadn’t told him these details.
“Why would you agree to such foolishness? Running around with some man you’re not in love with, trying to fool the world into believing you’re something that you’re not.”
“I need this deal to work, Dad.” It was as simple as she could explain her reason for being there.
“Why? You were doing just fine here starting your business. You can’t always put the cart before the horse, Nina. Growing a business takes time. I don’t know why my girls always want everything with such urgency. Never want to take the time to see how things will turn out, just like...” His words trailed off and Nina tried not to feel the bite of the comparison he’d almost made between her and her mother.
“I’m not doing this just for me. I want you to be able to move into that facility we looked at a few months ago.”
He was quiet for too long and she braced herself for an explosion of temper. Although it didn’t happen frequently, Jacoby could yell and argue just like his daughters.
“If I wanted to go into that facility, I could. I’ve got some money saved up. You don’t need to worry about me. I want you to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted was for all of my girls to be happy.”
And by “all” of his girls, Nina knew he was including her mother. Lynn hadn’t been happy with the man she’d married and the three children she’d given birth to. But that wasn’t their fault. Nina only wished her father would finally come to that conclusion. She also wished that everything her mother had done didn’t affect everything she was doing now. Nina needed to believe that if she wanted a relationship for herself it could flourish. But the demise of her parents’ marriage had a much bigger impact on her than she’d ever believed before she’d met Major.
“Your savings isn’t enough, Dad. There are ongoing expenses and we have the portions of your medical bills that the insurance doesn’t cover. I’m just trying to do what’s necessary for my family. If relatives help each other, what evil can hurt them? You taught me that.” Tossing old proverbs back at her father might not be the best idea, but it was all she had. She wasn’t going to let him talk her out of what she’d started.
“I don’t want to be a burden,” he said quietly. “And I definitely don’t want you degrading yourself in any way to help me.”
“I’m not. I promise. Major is a good guy and this is a wonderful opportunity for my business to get the exposure it needs.”
“If he’s such a good guy, why can’t he find himself a real wife?”
Nina didn’t have an answer for that. In fact, hours after the conversation with her father while she lay in the dark bedroom, she let herself think about Major finding his real wife and how she would ultimately feel knowing it wasn’t her.
Maybe if she were a different type of woman, one who hadn’t been showed so early in life the devastation that failed love could bring. Perhaps then she could allow herself the dream of falling in love with a man like Major and him falling in love with her. But that barrier she’d had no choice but to build around her heart just wouldn’t allow her to trust those types of thoughts. It wouldn’t allow her to hope for something that just couldn’t be.
* * *
“I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” Major said when Nina was escorted into the den at his parents’ house on Sunday evening.
He hadn’t been avoiding her this time. Something had come up at Brand Integrated that had taken him all weekend to deal with. But he’d wanted to see her.
Major had also been dealing with the engagement ring. Among all the other plans, that detail had somehow fallen to the wayside. It had taken six days for the ring Major wanted for Nina to be ready and it had been delivered to his apartment yesterday morning. He’d refused to address why he felt a jewelry designer was required for a fake engagement, but he wanted the ring on Nina’s finger before their next public appearance.
Now, she was here, in the house he’d grown up in, looking around the room, one hand to her chest before she settled her gaze on him. “Sorry, still trying to catch my breath from that magnificent foyer I just walked through. That staircase is breathtaking, and I’ve never seen anything like the brown-and-gold marble floor.” She gave her head a little shake and then cleared her throat, dropping her arm to her side. “But yeah, your mother invited me to dinner while we were at the fitting yesterday,” she said, waving to Maurice and RJ who were sitting in chairs behind him.
“She was at the fitting?” Was that on the itinerary?
“Yes, Mom was at the fitting. Everything doesn’t have to be on the itinerary, Major. It’s all right to be impulsive sometimes,” Riley said as she entered the room. The smile on his sister’s face solidified the feeling of dread in the pit of Major’s stomach. “We had a wonderful afternoon. The gowns were all so beautiful on Nina. We had a terrible time deciding on the final one.”
RJ stood and went to the bar in the far corner of the room to fix himself a drink. “Why? It’s not like there’s really going to be a wedding.”
The room went silent for a few seconds and Riley chimed in again.
“The name of the game is to get customers to buy into the whole process, which is why we have Infinity doing the six-page spread for June. The dress is the center of any wedding, so it made sense that we start there. Next week there will be coverage of our venue hunt and talking to artists about the reception.” Riley, wearing a long, pleated green skirt and casual T-shirt, sat on the coal-colored couch, leaning back on its huge fluffy pillows.
RJ shook his head as he dropped ice cubes into his glass. “For all this effort, I sure hope this fake wedding campaign works to our advantage.”
“Oh come on, RJ. Man, you were just talking about the bump in orders in the casual wear sections,” Maurice said.
“I saw that, too,” Nina added, excitement clear in her voice. “Since the media has decided that, in addition to the wedding, they want to do stories on who I am and our business partnership, I took a chance and ran a digital ad on some of the fashion blogs and did numerous posts on my Instagram page, tagging fashion groups and other influencers.”
Major noted how lovely she looked in a long animal-print skirt. He wondered if she and Riley had conferred on their attire for tonight. Her plain tan T-shirt was also on the casual side, as well as the three-quarter dark denim jacket she wore over it. For a few seconds he wondered about the beads riding low on her hips beneath the clothes she wore.
“That was a great idea,” Maurice continued. “Customer service reported some mentions in their feedback box when we met with them Friday morning.”
“That’s in the area of the ap
p. I’m talking about this engagement sham,” RJ continued before taking a swallow of the vodka he’d just poured.
Marva wouldn’t like that he was drinking before dinner, but Ron would defend his oldest son, claiming if a man worked hard he had every right to drink hard whenever he wanted to. As long as the work was done and above reproach—that was always the unspoken part of anything their father said to defend them. He could condone just about anything if RGF came first. A fact that had Major’s jaw tightening.
Nina moved around him to take a seat in one of three brightly colored and mildly disgusting salon chairs his mother had added to this space a couple years ago. He realized he hadn’t offered her a seat and had basically left her hanging in a room full of siblings. To compensate, he moved over to the chair as soon as she sat. “Can I get you something to drink while we wait for dinner?”
“That would be great. I’ll have a—”
“Cranberry juice with lime,” he said before she could get the words out, and the room went silent once more.
She smiled up at him and, in that moment, it didn’t matter what his siblings were doing or saying behind him. Major smiled in return and went to the bar thinking of the ring in a black-velvet bag in his pocket. Before learning she’d been invited tonight, his plan had been to take it to her after dinner. Now he was thinking there didn’t need to be any special moment or perfect words said; he should just give it to her. That idea was tabled when RJ moved to the side while Major reached for a glass.
“Ain’t that cute, you know what she likes to drink,” RJ jokingly whispered until Major elbowed him and continued.
He did know what she liked to drink and that she only liked extra cheese and onions on her pizza. When he kissed her neck and palmed her breasts, she melted in his arms. And on the two occasions he’d spent the night at her hotel over these past two weeks, he noticed she liked to sleep on the right side of the bed. But none of that meant anything—it couldn’t.
“It’s a drink, don’t get it twisted,” he replied, keeping his voice low, as well.
“I think I should be saying the same to you.”
Major frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Where’ve you been spending the bulk of your evenings? At your place or at her hotel? And before you answer, think about why you really got that apartment for her. After that, think about how this is going to end when the six weeks are up.”
“Dinner is served,” Kemp, the Golds’ longtime butler, announced just in time for Major to slip away from his brother and the assumptions he was making.
* * *
“You were very quiet during dinner,” Nina said later as they walked along one of the many stone pathways outside the main house.
He’d needed some air after sitting at the table listening to the talk about work and wedding plans. Major wasn’t usually the quiet one of the family—laid-back, but not quiet. Riley had taken that torch and held it for years. Now that she was in love, that seemed to have changed.
“I know, sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“About the fake engagement? Because, really, I think that’s going well.”
She was right. The charade was going well. Desta’s last email to him asking that they keep up whatever they were doing had confirmed that. What had they been doing? In the last few weeks they’d been dating. That was the simplest way of putting it. Dinner out, even more dinners in, watching movies, laughing, touching, sleeping together—all the things a dating couple would do. All things that had tabloids abuzz with wedding speculation, which always included comments about Nina’s wedding gown. He was pretty sure they were doing a great job as far as the campaign was considered.
“It’s not that,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he walked.
It was a warm evening, not humid as it had been earlier. A summer thunderstorm had rolled through while they’d been inside having dinner, cooling the air down slightly.
“But whatever it is, you don’t want to talk about it.” She didn’t pose that as a question, just a simple statement she let hang in the air like bait.
After another few steps, Major gave up the pretense. He didn’t know what it was about her, but whenever they were together he was always changing his mind about something, doing more than he’d anticipated, adjusting. It wasn’t something he did often, there wasn’t usually a need. He knew what he wanted and he did whatever it took to get it. Simple. But not this time—at least not when she was around.
“It’s business, but not RGF business,” he said, feeling a bit uneasy about what was on his mind.
“Okay.”
That one word didn’t seem like enough and, after a few seconds, he realized he wanted Nina to ask the question so that it wouldn’t seem like he was giving her the information. To the contrary, she seemed content to give him space to decide when and if he wanted to tell her more.
“I’m starting my own company. It’s called Brand Integrated Technologies.” And it might be your biggest competitor. For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to say that part.
“Good for you,” she said when they took the curve that would lead to the garage or down farther to his mother’s gardens. “Starting a business can be a mixed bag—exciting and daunting.”
“You’re right about that.” He managed a light chuckle. “Launch day is a few weeks away, so we’re just ironing out some final things. But the last couple days, there’ve been some wrinkles.”
She nodded, her hair, which she’d left alone so that it lay straight down her back, swished a little with the movement.
“That’s always the case. And it probably won’t get better after launch. I know I was troubleshooting almost 24/7 in my first couple of weeks. But what got me through was knowing that it was all mine—my concept, my execution, everything. That motivated me to keep going and to get it right.”
Looking over at her, he saw the light in her eyes as she talked about her business. He’d seen it before and realized it was always there when they talked about work.
“My dream,” he said and only briefly wondered why he’d found it so easy to admit that to her. “I’ve wanted to do something like this for a long time and now that it’s happening, I just want it to be perfect.”
“Perfection is a myth.” There was an edge to her tone, but when she glanced over at him and caught him watching her, she smiled. “It’s designed to pull every bit of action and reaction from you until you’re either spinning in circles in search of more, or falling flat on your face from exhaustion. Completion is a more attainable goal.”
He thought about that for a second and eventually decided there might be some truth to her words. “Brand Integrated is a consulting and design firm. We’ll assess the technological needs of a fashion house and design unique software to facilitate their growth. Kind of what I’ve been doing at RGF, but on a larger scale.”
“That sounds amazing, Major. And there’s definitely a need. The shield program you’ve developed to seamlessly combine all aspects of RGF is phenomenal.”
So far so good. He gave her a tentative smile.
“Thanks. At Brand Integrated, all of that would be expanded. We have plans for more personalized technological development such as fabric generators, accessory hubs, data extrapolators and more. The idea is to get into a company and create a skeleton that will support the entire body of its work.”
“Yes! I can see that. There’s certainly a demand for that type of technological support, especially in the fashion industry. This way it lets designers focus on just the clothes. Are you targeting smaller houses? Because I feel like they’re the ones who could really benefit from programs like this. It would position them to be competitors.”
“Exactly,” he admitted. How was it that she got him so completely and so quickly?
A light drizzle of rain started to fall and Major led them
toward the garage.
“So, anyway, the past couple days have been filled with little problems. I feel like it’s some type of conspiracy designed to make me think of turning back.”
“You getting cold feet, Major?” She chuckled. “I wouldn’t have expected that of you.”
Her tone was light but the fact that she had any type of expectations of him on a level outside of their fake engagement was a little surprising. And a lot intriguing.
They approached the garage. There was an automated keypad on the wall beside the door and he pressed the code. When the locks disengaged, he pulled the door open and held it so that she could walk past, giving off a hint of her perfume as she did—warm, floral, charming.
“So wait—you said accessory hubs. You have plans for programs that will accessorize? Sort of like my app?”
Major had just pulled the door closed behind him and was about to reach for the light switch when she asked that question.
“Ah, yeah, that’s in the portfolio. I mean, we wouldn’t contract with any vendors, we’re solely technology focused. But a simulator that takes the designer from sketch to prototype to runway, complete with suggested accessories, is on the menu.”
He found the switch for the lights and the fluorescent bulbs across the large, open ceiling came on, bringing thirty vintage cars and motorcycles into view.
“Oh,” she said and looked around. “Well, I guess a little healthy competition is good.”
Of course he’d known about this similarity since the day she’d pitched At Your Service; what he hadn’t wanted to consider was whether or not it would mean anything at the end of these six weeks.
Logically, she could go her own way with her company and continue doing business. He could do the same and they’d just be two people working in the industry, same as RGF’s competition with any other fashion house. But this was different—the deal he’d made with her, having Sunday dinner with her at his parents’ house, a seventy-five-thousand-dollar ring in his pocket, talking and walking with her on a quiet summer’s night... He couldn’t help but admit things were totally different now.