There was a time I believed in true love. I’d also believed in Santa Clause and unicorns. I knew that none of that truly existed in the real world. But in that moment, I desperately wished true love existed, and that I could have it with Ryder.
Later that night, when we arrived home, he took me to his bed and made love to me again. At least that’s what it felt like. Sated and happy, I settled against him as we fell asleep. I remembered back in high school, when I still believed in fairy tales, wishing for something like this with him. Ryder had been the epitome of coolness. He’d been popular, athletic and in a band. But he hadn’t been a cocky asshole. Until the incident with my poems, I’d thought he was perfect. Now, laying in his arms, all those teenage fantasies and feelings flooded back. It was silly, but in the darkness of night, I savored them. I allowed myself to enjoy this moment. When this bet was over, I’d be back to my usual, safe life. I’d be happy to be there because I knew it well, and I liked stability and a sameness in life. But I couldn’t deny that this little trek off the beaten bath with him was enjoyable.
But like all good things in life, it was going to come to an end. Most relationships did, I reminded myself. Only a handful of people ever made it the distance, like Sinclair and Wyatt. Sinclair and Ryder’s parents seemed to have a good relationship too. But most people I knew had short term relationships, and most of the long-term ones fizzled out, often because they were too different. That was me and Ryder. After a week, I’d gone from despising Ryder to sleeping in his bed. It was right up there with pigs flying and hell freezing over, and yet there I was.
We were a spectrum apart when it came to temperament and how we viewed life. I’d enjoy this little detour in my life while I could, but then I’d move on with sweet memories.
The next day, I was alone at my desk in the outer section of the mayor’s office. He was in his office with Brooke, of course. Sinclair was down in her office. I was going over vendor contracts for the upcoming Heritage Festival.
I heard the opening of the door from the hallway. Looking up, I saw Simon Stark walk in. I frowned. He didn’t have an appointment. And he wasn’t welcome, as far as I was concerned.
I plastered on a pleasant expression because that was my job. “Can I help you?”
Mr. Stark smiled in that way rich people did to act friendly even though they expected the world to bend at their whims. “I’m here to see the mayor.”
“And you are?” Yes, it was snarky, but men like Stark could use a bit of push back. It wasn’t right that they went through the world thinking they owned the place and everyone knew it.
His jaw clenched slightly, but he held onto the smile. “Simon Stark.”
I looked at the schedule I had for the mayor, even though I already knew he wasn’t on it. I lifted my gaze back to him, with my own fake smile. “I’m sorry. I don’t see you, Mr. Stark.”
“I was on the phone with him just over an hour ago. He is expecting me.”
I tried to keep my smile, even as my insides started to boil. Had the mayor really made an appointment and not told me? Or more likely his new infatuation had.
“Let me check with him.”
I expected a man like Stark to respond with something like, “You do that,” in a condescending tone. However, he simply nodded and said, “Thank you.”
I picked up my phone and called the mayor’s office. “Mr. Stark is here. He says he has an appointment with you.”
“Ah yes. I forgot to mention that to you. Send him in.”
Jerk, I thought. He’d made me look like an idiot to Stark. And I couldn’t help but feel disrespected by the mayor. This was something I should have known and yet he didn’t bother to tell me.
Making sure to smile again, I looked up at Mr. Stark. “The mayor says you can go in.”
He nodded and thanked me again. At least he had manners, I thought until I remembered he crashed Sinclair and Wyatt’s wedding to try and discredit her. Asshole, I said under my breath.
I worked a little bit longer, but then decided it was time for a break. It was petty and unprofessional, but I didn’t bother to let the mayor or Sinclair now. I went to the breakroom for the entire city hall building and made coffee. The break room was empty and I enjoyed the quiet.
“Ms. Lados? Right?”
I looked up and saw Mr. Stark in the breakroom doorway.
I frowned, wondering why he was there and why he cared about who I was. “Mr. Stark.”
“I’m sorry to bother you on your break. The mayor said you’d help me with a permit I want for a public gathering.”
It was harder to smile now, but I mustered one. “Yes, of course.”
I started to stand, but he said, “No please sit. I’m interrupting your break.” He walked into the room. “Mind if I join you?”
Yes. “Go ahead.” I nodded to the chair across from me.
“I take it the mayor didn’t let you know I was coming today.”
“He gets busy,” I said, wondering why I felt the need to defend him.
“Still. It’s your job to keep him organized. It makes it hard for you to do that if he doesn’t keep you informed. It’s disrespectful of you.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s how I see it.”
How was it possible he understood that? I thought he was one of those men who didn’t pay much attention to the peons of the world. Then I thought maybe it was a test. Was he trying to get me to bad mouth the mayor?
I decided not to say anything.
“I understand that you have a reputation for the epitome of organization.”
I nodded. “I’m good at my job, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He laughed and it made him look like a Hollywood star. There was no doubt that Stark was handsome, in a polished sort of way. “I like a woman who knows herself.”
I arched a brow.
He waved a hand. “I’m not being misogynistic. Today, men can’t be too careful about how they talk to women. I find it a difficult road to travel.”
I rolled my eyes.
He leaned forward. “You don’t agree. But let me point out that women don’t have this problem. And you can’t tell me that women don’t notice men the same way men notice women. I mean, attraction is the start of any relationship, don’t you think?”
“Sure, but women are smart enough not to speak out loud comments about men that demean or dismiss them as nothing more than sex objects. A woman isn’t going to come up to you and tell you you’re handsome or have nice legs right out of the gate. Men, on the other hand, think telling a woman they just met that they want to fu…sleep with that they’re beautiful or how great their dress is, probably because it shows off her assets, is a compliment. A woman might like how a man looks, but she’s also interested in him as a person. Usually.”
He laughed again and sat back. “You’re right. I don’t know that I’ve ever met a woman who told me they like the cut of my suit.”
“They’re eyes don’t go to your chest or groin either unless maybe you’re shirtless.”
“Men are pigs, aren’t they?” He shook his head. “Well, my meaning wasn’t sexual, although I’d be lying if I said that after this brief exchange, I wasn’t interested in taking you for dinner.”
That threw me for a loop and I didn’t know what to say.
“My comment really was about the fact that I appreciate…again not in a sexual way, smart people who are good at what they do. If you were ever interested in leaving the mayor’s employ, especially since his term will be up shortly, I’d be eager to interview you. I pay well and offer full benefits, including health and retirement.”
I studied him, feeling confused because he seemed all right, even though I knew he was an asshole. Then I remembered those men hired by Stark who hassled Wyatt and his mom when Stark was pressuring them to sell their farm.
“Those goons you sent to hassle local farmers, they weren’t smart or good at their jobs,” I said.
I thought he’d take umbrage, but instead,
he laughed and shook his head. “Yes, I do like a woman…person…who speaks the truth. They were a mistake, I agree. I’ve been trying to find ways to make up to Salvation for their deplorable behavior.”
Hmm.
“Hence the need for a permit for the gathering I’m organizing.”
“What about crashing Sinclair and Wyatt’s wedding? This town likes them. I’m not sure any event will get you out of the dog house for that.”
“No. Maybe not. But I’m going to try.”
I had to admit, he didn’t come off as the evil villain I’d expected. “Well then.” I finished my coffee. “I’ll get the paperwork for that permit.”
He followed me out of the break room and to the mayor’s office. “Normally, I’d send you down to the parks and rec office, which does public permits for events.”
“The mayor said you’d help me,” he said, as I went to the file cabinet to get the paperwork.
“I assumed as much.” And again it was something the mayor could have told me. Then again, maybe he would have if I was at my desk.
I handed Mr. Stark the paperwork. He smiled. “Thank you. At the risk of sounding like a misogynistic pig, could I invite you for dinner? Or are you seeing someone?”
“It’s complicated,” I said thinking of Ryder.
He nodded. “I understand. Thank you, Ms. Lados. I’ve very much enjoyed talking with you.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I just smiled and nodded back. He took the papers and left the outer office.
“That was interesting,” Sinclair said from the hallway to her office as I sat at my desk.
“I didn’t notice you lurking about.” I logged back into my computer.
“You nearly accepted his date invitation.” She had a disapproving frown on her face.
“I did not.”
“You looked interested.”
I rolled my eyes, even though she wasn’t entirely wrong. I wasn’t interested in dating Stark, but I was curious about him. He wasn’t the one-dimensional Dick Dastardly character I’d made him out to be.
“The mayor asked me to help him. It’s my job to be pleasant. You remind me of that all the time.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “What’s going on with Ryder?”
That came out of left field. “Why don’t you ask him?”
“Because I’m asking you. His wife.”
“I’m his fake wife, and Ryder is the same as always.”
“Irresponsible. Flaky. Too cavalier in life,” she said repeating descriptive words I’d used to describe him in the past.
In my mind words like sexy and sweet came up, but I bit those back. “Is there something you want?”
“I’m just surprised you’ve made it this long. I thought this would be harder for you.”
I grinned. “Told ya. Fake marriage is a piece of cake.”
The mayor’s office door opened and he stepped out with Brooke behind him. “Ah, Trina. Were you able to help Mr. Stark with his permit?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. By the way, I’m sorry I didn’t mention his coming down. Brooke here says that was disrespectful of me and undermines your work.”
It was strange that it was nice to have him recognize how his actions impacted me, and at the same time want to scratch out Brooke’s eyes for being the one to make him see it.
I plastered on my fake smile. “I appreciate that, sir.”
17
Ryder
It seemed like yesterday that Trina moved in with me, but three weeks have passed. Our bet is nearly over and I’m on edge. While this situation had gone better than anticipated, I wasn’t sure she’d opened up enough to the idea of her and I being an item.
Trina spent her nights in my bed, which was fucking awesome. Her banter to me didn’t have the same snark and edge as it had before. We laughed a lot, and she sometimes confided in me about issues at work, such as how she thought the mayor was trying to create an atmosphere in which she’d leave so the new girl could have her job. When I asked Sinclair about this, she thought Trina was overreacting, and then shocked me by saying perhaps Trina was considering Stark’s offer to hire her.
My first thought was, Stark talked to Trina? When did this happen? He offered her a job? But knowing how Trina felt about Stark, I knew that couldn’t be the case. The one thing Trina and I agreed upon even when we didn’t get along was that he was an asshole. I didn’t even justify Sinclair’s statement by asking Trina about it because there’s no way she’d consider working for him.
The three weeks had gone well, so why was I on edge? Because as well as things were, I wasn’t sure how she felt about me. Sure, we couldn’t get enough of each other in bed, but that didn’t mean she loved me. It didn’t mean that once this bet was over that she wasn’t going to pack up her things and head home without a second thought about me.
For this last week, my goal was the same as it had been the previous three; I had to convince her to give me a real try. I had to make sure she stayed. Forever.
I sat in the manager’s office at the Salvation Station pondering all my options from whether I should just come clean and tell her how I felt, or continue to be more subtle in my approach.
I had conceded that while she wasn’t a fan of my easy-going manner, she also had some issues with my home, that she found cluttered and tired, while I thought it was cozy and comfortable. She also didn’t seem to think that working in a restaurant and moonlighting in a band was a good career. After a call with the owner, who once again talked to me about buying a partnership, I realized that if I could find a way to accept his offer, I might be able to convince Trina I was a safe, stable bet. I wasn’t frivolous with money, but I was a bartender/manager with a band. I wasn’t rolling in the dough. Part ownership though, would show commitment and provide more stability than simply being an employee. Plus, I could implement some of the ideas Mr. Coffey had been resistant to, such as having live music and dancing on the weekends or a ladies’ night.
The only challenge was the same as it had always been since he suggested it to me and that was money. I’d need a good chunk of change to buy in, and neither my job nor the band paid enough to save for a significant investment.
I finished my work and headed back to the bar, still wondering how I could convince Trina to stay. I pondered what she’d do if I asked her to marry me. She’d probably think I was nuts. “Are you crazy?” I could hear her say as clearly as if she was standing there. I laughed, because while it wouldn’t be the response I wanted, I always got a certain amusement out of shocking her. I suppose that was one of the things that bugged her about me.
“Take a break, Sam,” I said to the other bartender. She’d be on for the rest of the evening as I’d cleverly redone the schedule these last few weeks to spend more time at home in the evenings. Sam and our other bartender didn’t mind working late as tips tended to be better at night.
“Sure thing, Ry.” She headed off toward the kitchen.
I checked in on a couple of our regulars that liked to sneak a drink in before heading home.
“How are you doing, Earl?” I asked Mr. Nesbit.
“All right. Where’s Kelly?” he asked of one of our waitresses he liked to flirt with.
“Off today. Does Mrs. Nesbit know of your crush?”
He waved a hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”
I shook my head. I never understood why men got married if they weren’t going to stay faithful. If I won Trina’s heart, I’d have no need to look any further. She was the whole package. Smart. Funny. Driven. Sure, she had a short fuse, but I liked to live a little on the edge. She also had a vulnerability that made me want to protect and shelter her.
I poured myself some water to have during my shift. The door opened and in walked Simon Stark. He had some nerve showing his face in Salvation, much less this place. He looked around the restaurant and then headed toward the bar.
One of the things that made me a good b
artender and manager was my ability to get along with everyone. That talent would be tested with Simon. That fucker not only tried to bully local farmers out of their land, but also he’d crashed my sister’s wedding and tried to discredit her in front of our friends and family. Who did shit like that? Simon Stark did, that’s who.
He took a seat at the bar.
“What can I get you?” I asked.
“Do you have Yamazaki whiskey?”
I smirked at his assholishness. Sure, Salvation was a tiny, nowheresville town, but we had access to top-shelf whiskey, although not Yamazaki. My boss felt the only good whiskey came from the south, or Scotland and Ireland.
“I’ve got Laphroaig Lore.” It was from Glasgow and had a similar price tag as Yamazaki.
He smiled. “I’ll take a double.”
I reached up to the top shelf and grabbed the bottle that most people in Salvation couldn’t afford. I poured him a drink and handed it to him.
“Things slow this afternoon?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Lull before the storm.”
He took a sip, nodded in a way that suggested he enjoyed it, and then looked around the place again. Was he casing the joint?
Finally, he turned back to me. “I understand you have a band.”
I rolled my shoulders, not sure I liked that he knew who I was. “I do.”
“I’m having an event in a few days and need a band to play a short set. Thirty minutes or so.”
“A few days. Something like that is usually booked months in advance.” Not that my band’s calendar was filled, but he didn’t need to know that.
“I know. I thought my secretary took care of it. Unfortunately, she thought I did. I really need a new assistant.”
I remembered what Sinclair said about Stark offering Trina a job. Is that why he was here? Did he know about me and Trina? Deciding I was being paranoid, I pushed that thought away.
“Anyway, if you’re not already booked, I’d like to hire you. I really want someone local.”
Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set) Page 31