A Fake Marriage Romance Collection

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A Fake Marriage Romance Collection Page 38

by Victorine E. Lieske


  William was texting.

  She surfaced and realized the chair had capsized with Harrison in it.

  He swam over to her, smiling, and pulled her to him.

  But she wriggled out of his grasp. “I’m sorry. That was a mistake. I can’t.”

  Her phone sounded again. “Text Message!”

  His smile disappeared and he cocked his head to the side, scrutinizing her. When her phone sounded a third time, he motioned toward it. “Go. Answer him.”

  She swam away from him, a strange sense of loss tugging at her heart. She climbed out of the pool and dried off. Her legs wobbled as she picked up her phone and swiped to read the message.

  W: Your silent treatment is killing me.

  W: Please say something. I’m sorry. U are the most important person in the world to me. I never meant to hurt u.

  W: I want to work this out. U mean so much to me. Please text me back. I love u.

  His pleadings stabbed at her heart. She couldn’t stand to ignore him any longer, even though she still hurt from what he’d done.

  P: I thought you loved me.

  W: I do, Penny! Please forgive me. I don’t know what I was thinking.

  P: I thought you wanted to get married.

  W: I’m so sorry. I have to be honest. I don’t think I’m ready.

  The words stung Penny. He’d lied about being held up. She’d known he had, but this proved it.

  W: Don’t think poorly of me, sweetheart. It is hard for me to admit, but I think I have commitment issues.

  That might explain a few things. She punched in her response.

  P: You have issues, all right.

  W: I do. I’m sorry. I think we should meet. Just to talk.

  The thought of meeting William made her pulse race. After all this time, meeting him face to face was something she felt she needed. She tried to push out of her mind the reality that she’d expected to meet him yesterday—at the altar.

  She hesitated, not sure of what she should say to him. She wanted to meet. She loved him. Working things out just made sense, right? She typed her response.

  P: Yes. We should meet.

  Harrison pulled himself out of the pool and started toward her. She quickly typed the rest.

  P: I have to go now. I will text u later.

  She switched her phone off and turned to Harrison. Water glistened on his muscled chest, causing her breath to catch and she forced herself to avert her eyes. “Thanks for swimming with me. I think I’ll go back up and change now.”

  His gaze probed hers. “Sure. I’ll take you up.” He grabbed a towel and rubbed his head and chest.

  She followed him through the house and up to the bedroom. The door was ajar, and when she entered she saw why. A note lay on the bed. She picked it up.

  You will dress up for dinner tonight. I have friends coming over and you will not embarrass me.

  Patrice

  Harrison spoke from behind her. “What’s that?”

  She turned, letting out a frustrated breath. “Your wicked stepmother wants to make sure I don’t embarrass her tonight.” Penny flicked the note onto the bed.

  “Appearances mean more to her than anything. Don’t take it personally.” He reached out to her like he was going to touch her, but then withdrew his hand as if he’d thought better of it. “She doesn’t even know you.”

  “Yeah, well, she definitely doesn’t like me.”

  He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his dark hair. “It’s my fault. I embarrassed her in front of her socialite friend. It’s me she’s mad at. I just didn’t think—”

  “It’s okay. I can take care of myself. But she’d better watch out.”

  He smiled. “She’s more upset than I thought. You might want to stay away from her wrath. Fly below the radar until I can get the trust fund and get you out of here.”

  Penny raised her chin. “Just remember―she attacked first.”

  Chapter 7

  Harrison adjusted his tie in the bathroom mirror, staring at his reflection. What was he doing, trying to impress Penny? He let out a breath. She didn’t seem to be the type to care what he was wearing. In fact, she’d let him know how stupid she thought it was to dress up for dinner. She hadn’t intended on changing, but he’d convinced her it was a good idea. She’d rummaged through her suitcase and found a sundress, which she looked amazing in. He’d had to get out of the bedroom because he couldn’t stop staring at her legs.

  When it was time to go down to dinner, he walked over to her and offered her his elbow. She was curled up on his chair, surfing the web on his laptop. She took his arm, her touch sending warmth through him. He smiled down at her, hoping she felt the same growing attraction he was feeling. She blushed and lowered her lashes. Maybe there could be something between them.

  Penny was impulsive, but she was also warm and more down to earth than any other woman he’d dated. She made him feel like she really cared, whereas the rest of them dated him for his money and social status. Thinking about having a relationship with Penny made him excited. Happy even.

  “Wait.” Penny withdrew her hand. “I’d better tell William I’m going to be away for a while.” She ran over to the nightstand and picked up her phone.

  Harrison exhaled. What was he thinking? She was still hung up on this Internet guy she’d never even met. He swallowed his disappointment. They were silent as he walked her down to the sitting room.

  Patrice stood when they entered. Her gaze traveled over Penny and a disapproving frown settled on her face. “Didn’t you get my note?”

  Penny’s eyes widened, and Harrison steeled himself. “Mother. Stop.”

  Patrice plastered on a fake smile. “I want you to meet my closest friends. This is Eleanor Watkins and Miranda Henning. And of course you met Josephine Gilbert earlier today.” Patrice reached out to take Penny’s hand, but judging from what happened earlier Harrison didn’t think that was a good idea, so he stepped in between them. Unfortunately, that pushed Penny a little and she stumbled. Harrison steadied her, before she ended up on the floor.

  Patrice glared at him, but quickly recovered. “Your brother will be here soon, and then we’ll go into the other room.”

  Harrison sat on the loveseat with Penny. Eleanor, a skinny old woman with a long horse-like face, leaned toward them. “I hear you two had a whirlwind wedding.” Her smile was all teeth. “Do tell me about it.”

  “Oh, yes, it was crazy all right,” Penny said, grabbing his hand. “We fell in love and threw caution to the wind!”

  Miranda, who was more round than tall, spoke up. “Did you really marry the day you met?” She raised an eyebrow, as if she didn’t believe it.

  “Yes,” Harrison said.

  The old ladies all gasped, and Patrice looked like she wanted to sink into the carpet. She picked up a champagne glass and took a sip.

  Penny giggled. “It was quite romantic. I mean, I didn’t even know Harrison was worth billions.”

  Patrice choked on her drink, and Harrison could feel the blood drain from his face. Penny continued. “But, luckily for him, I don’t care about his money. I’m just a small town girl from Iowa. What would I do with a million dollars?”

  Harrison stared at her.

  The women’s jaws were just about on the floor.

  Miranda composed herself first. “You mean, you married him before you knew who he was?”

  “Well, I knew I was in love. That’s all that matters, right?” Penny’s wide eyes gave her the look of an innocent doe. Either that or a serial killer who was out of touch with reality.

  Miranda must have been thinking serial killer, because she scooted back in her chair.

  Josephine laughed and tugged on her white gloves. “You are a delight, girl. You must come to the Christmas soirée I’m having this weekend. Everyone who is anyone will be there.”

  Patrice, Miranda, and Eleanor looked at Josephine like she’d suggested they all dance on the table naked.

  A look
of apprehension crossed Penny’s face, but she smoothed it out. “I’d love to.”

  Trent entered the room with his wife. Last summer when Harrison first met her, he’d had to blink to make sure she was real. She had platinum-blonde hair, an unnaturally thin waist, a perfectly perky chest, and legs so long he wondered how she kept from falling over. It was like she’d handed her plastic surgeon a Barbie doll for reference and he’d taken her seriously. Her name was Candy. Of course.

  After Trent introduced Candy to Penny, they all went into the formal dining room. It was more like a hall than a room, with a table so long it would seat twenty. Harrison couldn’t remember a time when they’d filled it. Penny must think they were insane. He was beginning to agree.

  Annabel brought out the hors d’oeuvres―escargot in garlic butter, served with artichoke hearts and caviar. Penny picked up her tongs and raised an eyebrow. “What are these things? They look like eyelash curlers or something.”

  Candy giggled. “Those are tongs. You hold the shells with them. Then you dig out the inside with the fork.”

  Penny’s face brightened. “Like in Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts flung the snail guts across the room.”

  Harrison hid a smile. Patrice scoffed and straightened in her chair, surely too proper to admit to having seen a movie like Pretty Woman. Eleanor peered at Penny over her glasses.

  Josephine laughed. “Slippery little suckers. What a great line. I love that movie.”

  “I’ll try not to sail my appetizer across the room.” Penny picked up her fork and started digging in the shell. She pulled the escargot out and put it in her mouth, then looked around the room, probably noticing that everyone was watching her. “Mmm,” she said.

  Josephine clapped, which didn’t really work with her white gloves on. “Bravo!”

  Patrice held a tight smile. “Penelope, do tell us. What exactly is it that you do?”

  “I’m a performer. I sing, and dance.”

  A smug look crossed Patrice’s face. “Ah, I see. I suppose there are poles involved in your dance routine?”

  Heat rose to Harrison’s face, and he clenched his fists. “Patrice!” Harrison didn’t disguise the anger in his voice. She was going too far.

  Penny waved it away. “Oh, no, not that kind of dancing. More like what you’d see on Broadway. Why, Patrice, you probably know what I’m talking about, having grown up in that area.”

  Everyone turned to look at Patrice. The color drained from her face. “I beg your pardon. I’m from California.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I could have sworn I heard you were from Queens.” The smile on Penny’s face widened. “What was it your father did again? I thought he was—”

  “I’ve never been to Iowa,” Patrice interrupted. “Tell me about it.”

  Harrison stared at his stepmother as Penny went into a monologue about Iowa and growing up in a small town surrounded by corn fields. Patrice grew up in Queens? Oh, that was too good. Harrison could hardly believe it. She’d put on airs and told everyone her father was some rich son of a gold miner. He wondered what the truth was.

  The rest of the meal went without incident. They ate some fancy sushi junk his stepmother loved. He realized he’d rather be eating at Lord of the Onion Rings. As he walked Penny back to their room, he whispered, “How did you find out about Queens?”

  “It’s amazing what you can find on the Internet if you have a valid credit card number.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You have a valid credit card number?”

  She looked up at him, a smile in her eyes. “No. But you do.”

  Before they made it to their door, Patrice stepped out from around a corner, stopping them. She pointed a finger at Penny. “I don’t know how you found out, you little viper, but I will not tolerate blackmail.” She turned to Harrison. “As for you, I spoke with my attorney this afternoon. I have changed the conditions. You now have to be married for two years before you get the trust.”

  Penny’s eyes widened and Harrison’s mouth went dry. “What? You can’t do that,” he said.

  A satisfied smirk settled on her face. “I can, and I did. This is not a game, but if it were, I would win. I always do.” She took a step back. “I won’t be played for a fool.”

  Penny muttered, “Well, if it walks like a duck…”

  His stepmother’s face turned a deep shade of purple, and she looked like she wanted to choke the life out of Penny. “You will not get a dime of this family’s money.” She rounded the corner, the clicking of her shoes on the tile fading down the hall.

  Chapter 8

  Penny pushed Harrison into the bedroom and shut the door, trying not to panic. “Two years? We can’t stay married for two years.” She kept her voice low, even though she wanted to shout. Her throat closed and she struggled to breathe. This wasn’t happening. Not now. Not when William was making strides and seemed ready to commit. Or at least work on things.

  Harrison paced the room, his distress evident in the way he scrubbed his hand over his face. “I know, I know. We’ll contest it. I’ll figure something out.”

  “You’d better,” she said, stabbing the air with her finger. “William apologized. He wants to meet. I think he—” She stopped talking when she saw the look on Harrison’s face. “What?”

  Harrison swallowed, and took a step toward her. “William wants to meet you?” He worked his jaw muscles. “Do you think that’s…wise?”

  “I know William better than anyone. He would never hurt me.”

  “Like he would never leave you at the altar.” He advanced.

  Her heart sped up as he drew closer. “He’s not perfect. He made a mistake.” The smell of Harrison’s cologne was messing with her head. Made it hard to think. She sank down on the bed. “He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

  Harrison sighed and sat down beside her. He looked like he wanted to lecture her, but instead he simply said, “How did you two meet?”

  She shrugged, since it wasn’t any big deal. “We met in a chat room.” When he didn’t respond, she elaborated. “Don’t Blink.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and she giggled. He looked adorable with that puzzled expression. “Don’t Blink is a chat room for Whovians.”

  “Speak English, please.”

  She laughed. “Your lack of nerd knowledge is cute. We just met online. That’s all that’s important.”

  “So, what, his profile pic was hot, so you started chatting with him?”

  “His profile pic was a TARDIS.”

  Harrison blinked, obviously lost. “What’s that?”

  “That blue police box The Doctor uses.” When his blank look got even blanker, she smiled. “Forget it. It’s a Doctor Who thing.”

  “Oh. How did you end up in Las Vegas, standing at an altar?”

  Penny slipped off her shoes and scooted back on the bed. “William kept bugging me to go away for a weekend with him. I told him I wasn’t going to do that until I was married. Then he said, ‘Well, why don’t we?’ and I said, ‘Do what?’ and he said, ‘Get married. You live in Las Vegas.’ And then I said, ‘Are you serious?!?’ and he said, ‘Yes.’” She picked a piece of lint off her dress, too embarrassed to look up at Harrison. “I guess he wasn’t as serious as I was.”

  Harrison was silent for a moment. Then he quietly said, “So he wanted a weekend of fun, and you wanted a lifetime commitment.”

  She glared at him. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like I was trying to push him into something. But he’s the one who suggested it.”

  “Only to get what he wanted from you.”

  Heat rose to her face, and she hopped off the bed. “You’re a pig!”

  He stood as well. “Men are pigs, Penny. It’s not safe for you to go off to meet some guy from the Internet. Do you even know what he looks like?”

  She grabbed her phone. “Yes. He sent me a photo.” After flipping through her images, she shoved it in his face.

  He squinted. “Is he the blurry one, or the bald guy
in back?”

  She scoffed. “The blurry one, of course.”

  “Good. Because the other dude has some serious Danny Devito thing going on. I think you’d tower over him.”

  “Funny. But like I said, that’s not him. William is tall and handsome, as you can see.”

  The look on Harrison’s face was difficult to interpret. He handed the phone back. “If you insist on going to meet him, at least take me along. For safety reasons.”

  The thought had occurred to her. She didn’t really want to drive by herself in an unfamiliar place. Especially on the scary freeways of California. “Fine.”

  “Fine.” He folded his arms across his chest. “When are we going?”

  “I’ll ask William.”

  She could have sworn she saw him roll his eyes, but he turned away from her too quickly to tell. “Fine,” he muttered.

  She gripped her phone and went into the closet to change. Five minutes later she was stretched out on the deck in her yoga pants, texting William.

  W: Tomorrow? Um, I don’t think tomorrow is good for me.

  P: When, then?

  W: Next weekend. I’ll take u to dinner.

  P: Great. But, um, can I bring a friend?

  W: A friend? On our first date?

  P: That does sound like a bad idea. It’s just—I promised I’d bring him along.

  W: Him? You want to bring a guy with u? What’s going on, Penny?

  P: He thinks it’s a bad idea for me to meet u.

  W: Who is this guy??

  P: My husband.

  W: What??? You said you were single!

  P: I am!! I mean, I was. Until u didn’t show up. The limo driver picked up the wrong guy at the airport.

  W: You’re serious? You married a stranger?

  P: I thought he was you!!

  W: I’m getting a headache.

  P: What restaurant should we meet at?

 

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