Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Ajme Williams

  I came in and sat in the chair by her desk. “Do you think the quality of my work has fallen?”

  “No.” She frowned and leaned forward.

  “Am I distracted?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe a little. Sometimes.”

  I swallowed back tears, cursing the hormones making me emotional.

  “For example, I don’t have the agenda or report for the public works meeting. You usually have that to me by now.”

  “You’ll have to talk to Brooke.” I sat back, feeling completely defeated.

  “What?”

  “The mayor gave her the job. And to rub it in my face that he’d handed over another one of my duties without telling me, she came to ask me to check her work. Bitch.”

  Sinclair flinched. “I’m sure there was a good reason.”

  I glared at her. “Yes, he’s handing my job to his new infatuation. Why can’t you see this? Sinclair, he doesn’t tell me anything anymore. When he makes appointments. What work he’s handing off…nothing. I’m invisible to him.”

  She gave a nod. “That is wrong. I’ll talk to him about that. But as good as you are, there’s no doubt we needed more help, and let’s face it, the public works agenda and report isn’t something you need to be doing.”

  My heart fell. “I’m having a baby. I can’t be slowly weaned out of a job.”

  “No one is doing that.”

  Was I really crazy? “So why can’t anyone talk to me about what work I might want to pass off? About what work I want to keep? About what I feel I can handle? I know I’m just a lowly secretary, but until that woman came in, I at least felt respected and appreciated.” Maybe I needed to consider that job with Stark after all. I didn’t much want to work for an asshole, but it felt like that was what I was doing now anyway. At least with Stark, I’d probably earn more.

  “I’m sorry you feel like that and you’re right, you should be consulted or informed. I’ll talk to the mayor.”

  “You’re patronizing me.” I felt completely deflated.

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re a stronger woman than me, Sinclair. When you became a single mom, you could do it. Plus, you had more people in your life. There’s only me—”

  “And Ryder.” Her eyes narrowed.

  I let out a breath. “A baby needs more than a fun playmate for a father.”

  “You know, Trina, you’re my best and oldest friend, but I’m having a really hard time with the way you talk about Ryder. He’s going to be a great dad.”

  There was something about her tone that suggested she was adding that I wouldn’t be a good mom.

  I nodded. Maybe it was too much to ask for her support. It hurt, because I’d been there for her when she learned she was pregnant. I helped as much as I could with getting her life organized so she could finish school and raise a baby. I’d babysat a lot when she was at her study group. And even more recently when Wyatt came back, I’d been there as she navigated her relationship with him. Hell, if I hadn’t suggested their fake marriage to save the farmers in Salvation, they might not be living in happily wedded bliss right now.

  But I also knew blood was thicker than water. Of course, she’d be on Ryder’s side. I needed to accept that. There was a part of me that wanted to tell her all that, and yet, it felt like it would be a waste of time. Plus, I didn’t have the energy.

  I stood. “Sorry I bothered you.”

  “Trina, don’t be a martyr.”

  Anger boiled up inside me. “I wasn’t, but now that you mention it, I remember being there for you when you were scared shitless about being pregnant—”

  “I was eighteen.”

  I couldn’t stop the tears. “Right. I’m too old to be scared.” I turned away, feeling utterly alone.

  “Trina, wait.”

  I stopped but didn’t turn. She came to me. “I’m sorry. That was unfair. You were there for me. You helped me a great deal. What do you need from me?”

  I thought I’d been clear about that but apparently not. I shook my head. “Nothing.” I tried to smile so she didn’t think I was being a martyr again. “You’re right. I’ve got this.”

  Then I left her office, hurrying to my desk and hoping she didn’t follow me. Fortunately, I heard her phone ring and her picking it up. Saved by the bell.

  I got to my desk and searched for work I was still assigned to do. I was pulling up the mayor’s calendar when his door opened. He looked toward my desk, and when he saw me, he came striding toward me.

  Mayor Maurice “Mo” Valentine was a diplomatic, even-keeled man, but the anger in his eyes suggested he wasn’t feeling very calm at the moment. The fact that his anger was directed toward me meant only one thing; Brooke had tattled.

  “What is your problem with Ms. Campbell?” he demanded, leaning over my desk.

  “My problem is that she’s doing my job. I don’t appreciate having my duties reassigned without consulting me.”

  “I don’t need your permission to assign jobs. I’m the fucking mayor.”

  I flinched at the venom in his tone.

  “I know your friend will likely be mayor after me, but right now, I have the authority to delegate tasks as I see fit. I also have the right to be pissed that one of my staff is creating a hostile workplace for other staff.”

  I could feel tears coming but I bit them back. “Of course you can reassign work. But I’d appreciate knowing when you do it; otherwise, you’re paying two people to do the same work. The taxpayers probably wouldn’t like that.”

  His nostrils flared in anger, and I was sure he was going to fire me right then and there.

  Since I’d gone this far, I thought I’d finish my thought. “All I’m asking for is the respect to be told when you give a job I have dutifully and skillfully done for you over the last several years.” It hurt me that I had to ask him to recognize the work I’d done or to at least have the respect to give me a heads up. “If you want to give your girlfriend my job, just do it, because this…how you’re secretly handing it over to her, is insulting.” I wondered how long it would be before I found a new job. Surely there was something out there besides working for Stark. Then again, maybe no one would want me. I doubted the mayor was going to give me a rave recommendation.

  He straightened and for a moment seemed to think about what I’d said. “I apologize for not being more transparent in the reassigning of tasks. That isn’t a reflection on the quality of your work. But your attitude needs a great deal of work, Ms. Lados. If you have a problem, come to me.”

  I bit my tongue to say I had tried to talk to him and Sinclair, both of whom discounted or dismissed my efforts.

  “Next time I hear about your mistreatment of anyone here, I’ll take corrective action.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He stared at me one last moment and then stormed back to his office.

  I blew out a breath and sagged into my chair. The mayor hated me. Sinclair was mad at me. Ryder didn’t care about me. God, even I wasn’t sure I liked me. My life right now was one big pity party. The problem was, I seemed to have dug myself into a hole that I couldn’t get out of on my own, and I didn’t have anyone to help me out.

  23

  Ryder

  I had a reputation of being a person who took the easy road. It was a valid descriptor of me. Not that I was lazy or avoided hard work. I didn’t mind work if it was something I enjoyed. I liked music and running the restaurant. And then there was Trina, who wasn’t an easy woman to get along with, but I definitely liked the challenge of her. But overall, if I wasn’t into something, I tended to avoid it, like house maintenance.

  As I got to work on fixing up the house, my interest in creating a nice home grew. I wanted a safe place for my child and a comfortable home for Trina, if she’d ever give me another chance. One thing that became clear as Wyatt helped me with the porch was that I needed to hire help to make sure the structure was sound. That required money. So did securing a more stable financial future, once M
r. Coffey confirmed that Stark had made inquiries about buying Salvation Station.

  When I went through my financial statements, I discovered that I was fine for a bachelor, but if I wanted a family, I needed to do more. I considered my options, such as asking my parents for help in investing in the restaurant, but they were nearing retirement.

  My only option was to swallow my pride and accept Stark’s offer to play for him. I even twisted my reason up into a pretzel arguing that I’d be taking his money to thwart his effort to buy the Salvation Station. I also figured since most townsfolk didn’t like him, no one I knew or cared about would be there anyway, so no one would know.

  Before I agreed to the gig, I started putting my ducks in order. I upped the price to thirty grand, asking for half up front, which he agreed to. I wasn’t sure how Stark stayed rich, as he accepted my demand without any negotiating. Then I went to a lawyer and asked her to draw up a contract regarding the Salvation Station. As soon as I had my money, I was going to make that place mine.

  A few days later I showed up at Stark’s compound to play for a bunch of high society people. I liked music, but this gig would be my hardest, I was sure of it. I couldn’t get over the guilt that I was betraying not just Salvation but my own good sense as well.

  The house used to belong to Carson Marchand, who’d built one of the first breweries in the state. That had since been relocated, but the large home remained. In fact, it had been vacant until Stark blew into town trying to take it over.

  The home sat on some prime Nebraska farmland next to the river, but apparently Stark didn’t see any need to till the soil. Instead, a large tent was erected, with fancy lights hanging around it and caterers in white suits buzzed around.

  “Mr. Simms, glad you could make it,” a woman with a clipboard said to me. “You’ll be playing on the stage erected at the back of the tent,” she said pointing toward the raised platform.

  “I need to prepare,” I said, feeling sicker by the moment.

  “There’s a room off the kitchen if you like. You’re scheduled to play in half an hour or so.”

  She directed me to a small room that had probably been a mudroom. It had a bench where I sat and pulled out my guitar to tune it. As I plucked at each string and adjusted its tone, I had a flash of memory of Trina busting into my room while I was playing my guitar naked. She’d been pissed when she walked in, but when she saw me in the nude was the first time I’d ever seen her speechless. That had led to the first time we’d made love. I inhaled a breath as I thought about how much life we’d lived in our month-long fake marriage, and how down I was that unless I could get my shit together, I’d have failed in my quest. Now that a child was involved, I couldn’t fail. Which was why I was here, I reminded myself as that sick feeling turned over in my gut again.

  “Mr. Simms? We’re ready for you. Do you think you could start with the National Anthem?”

  Huh? “Ah…sure.”

  “Great.” She led me to the platform. People in fancy suits and dresses mingled about.

  “Ah, here he is,” Mr. Stark said from the platform. “I’m very pleased to have Ryder Simms to entertain you all in this fundraiser for Jay Wallace and his bid to run for mayor of Salvation.”

  Oh, hell no! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I closed my eyes as I realized I wasn’t just betraying my own good sense, but also my sister. I skidded to a stop, ready to bolt. I couldn’t play for the man who was backing my sister’s opponent. And what a fucking moron I was not to realize Stark would pull something like this. What an asshole.

  He looked at me and arched a brow with a knowing smirk on his face. The only salvation I had was that I’d finagled an extra five thousand from him. I guess that’s what my loyalty and pride were worth. Thirty thousand. Jesus, if Sinclair found out she’d skin me alive. And I’d deserve it. But my child deserved a safe home and a dad who could provide. So, swallowed my pride, and stepped on the platform.

  I played the National Anthem, wondering if any of these people really understood patriotism. My guess was that they’d sell their loyalty in a minute, but then again, I just had done it myself.

  Then I went through and played the set I’d prepared. My heart wasn’t in it, so I couldn’t say the gig went well, although people clapped and some sang along.

  When I finished, I headed straight to Stark. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  Stark laughed. “An asshole that just paid you thirty thousand dollars for a thirty-minute set. That’s a thousand dollars a minute, Mr. Simms.”

  “You didn’t give a shit about me. You just want to get back at my sister.”

  He shrugged.

  I leaned closer to him, plucking the check from his fingers. “That’s the reason you’ll never fit in this town no matter how much you buy, even if you buy the mayor.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because Salvation is a good town filled with good people. You’re not a good person.”

  He flinched slightly, which along with the check, was my reward. Not that it would soothe the guilt and self-loathing that I’d sold my soul, but it was something.

  I left the gig and immediately drove to Mr. Coffey’s house.

  “Ryder, what are you doing here?” He said as he opened the door. He checked his watch. It was just before nine at night, which was probably too late to show up at someone’s house, but I wasn’t going to put this off any longer. Not with someone slimy like Stark involved.

  “I’ve got twenty thousand dollars and a contract, right now, to invest in the Salvation Station.”

  “What?” He let me into his home.

  “Who is it, dear,” his wife asked from their living room.

  “It’s Ryder. I’m going to take him to the den,” Mr. Coffey said.

  “Is everything all right with the restaurant?”

  “It’s fine,” he said motioning me to the extra bedroom that they used as a den.

  “Can I make you coffee or something?” she asked us. I had a moment to wonder if Trina would ever be wifely like that. Probably not. The kitchen was definitely my domain, and I was fucking fine with that. I’d be happy to make coffee for her guests.

  “We’re fine, dear.” He shut the door. “Now what are you up to?”

  “I have the money, but I don’t want to just be a partner. I want this to be considered a down payment in the purchase.” I had to hope to fuck a bank would finance the rest, but at this time, I just needed a commitment from Mr. Coffee.

  “I’m not quite ready to sell.”

  “You told me you were considering Stark’s offer,” I reminded him.

  He shrugged. “It’s hard to turn down cash like that.”

  Boy did I know it. “The problem is, you’d be selling to Stark. Do you want to be seen as a sell-out or would you rather keep the place in the Salvation family, so to speak? I’ve got twenty grand to give you right now. All you have to do is sign this contract that says I’m a partner, I can buy it when you decide to sell, and under no circumstances can you sell to Stark.”

  His bushy gray brows rose. “You’ve got a beef with him.”

  “I do. You know I do after what he did to my sister and her husband.”

  He nodded. “You wonder what makes a man act like that. He’s got enough money he could buy some manners, you’d think.”

  “So, you’ll take my money? Make the deal.”

  He sat in his chair and sighed. “Stark’s offer is a lot. I have to consider my and my wife’s future. We’re not getting younger and medical care gets more expensive the older you get.”

  Part of me wanted to argue. The other part of me was feeling like I’d sacrificed my pride and betrayed my sister for nothing.

  “Fine. I’ll take my twenty grand and buy something else. I’ll have my resignation to you tomorrow.” It was an impulsive move, not conducive to the steady, well-thought-out hand Trina would want me to deal. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

  “Now hold on boy. What bee’s gone
up your bonnet?” He frowned at me. “We’re negotiating here.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to negotiate. I want to secure my future too. I’ve got a child on the way and house to fix up, and I need to get my financials in place. I’ve been a good employee of yours for a long time. I know the folks who come in, and you know that I’m one of the reasons they keep coming.”

  “A baby? Goodness. Not sure how my wife missed that on the gossip mill.” He ran his long boney fingers through the few strands of hair he still had left.

  “It’s a new situation. So? What do you say?” I asked.

  “I need to talk to my wife, but I think we’re both in agreement that we’d rather see the place stay with someone local. Stark would probably turn it into some chic place that people around here couldn’t afford to eat at.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “I’ll be in tomorrow. You’ll have that twenty grand?”

  “I’ll have it.” I had the fifteen from the down payment, and now I had the second fifteen from selling my soul.

  As I drove home, I should have felt good. All the pieces of my life were falling in place. But the way I’d gotten there made me wonder if it was worth it. Did the means justify the ends? Fuck, I hoped so.

  24

  Trina

  Over the last few days, I’d gotten myself a little more together. At least at work. I had to pull it together because I had a child to think about and couldn’t risk losing my job, along with health benefits. Of course, my workday was made slightly less stressful as Sinclair seemed to be mad and was avoiding me. Brooke kept a wide berth from me as well, which I appreciated. I couldn’t look at her and not think about how the mayor was giving her my job. And since the mayor seemed to prefer to work with Brooke, I didn’t have to talk to him much either. As a result, I could work in peace and quiet, without drama. The only problem was that the isolation was turning out to be unwelcome as well.

  There’d been a time in which working on my own without distractions would have been ideal. Now, while I got a lot done, I felt alone. As an adult, I’d grown to want to be alone and self-sufficient, but this tapped into some sort of residual childhood pain. It was one thing to be alone because I wanted to. It was another to be ignored or forgotten, which was what I felt now.