Fake Marriage (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Ajme Williams

  But I didn’t know him. Not really. I mean, he was the one to kick me out when I told him I was pregnant. He’d abandoned me and my child, and yet he was pissed at me? Why was he so sure I was lying? So sure that he didn’t even want to talk to me?

  When my crying calmed enough to drive, I put the car in gear, but it was immediately clear that I couldn’t make the drive home. I was emotionally wrought. I didn’t want my mother and son to see me like this.

  I made the left hand turn back toward Salvation. I got my old room in the hotel for one more night and called home.

  “Are you alright?” my mother asked, which told me I’d clearly not done a good enough job to keep my emotional state hidden.

  “Just tired. I had car trouble and now I just want to rest. I’ll come home first thing tomorrow.”

  My mother ran her own business from home, which was a God-send because it meant she could watch Mason for me when I worked.

  “Is that my mommy?” I heard Mason’s voice in the background.

  “Yes, sweetie. Here,” my mother said.

  “Mommy?”

  “Yes, baby. How are you?” I focused on his voice and all the love I had for him. Simon was an asshole, but it was hard to totally despise the man that gave me my beautiful boy.

  “Are you almost home?”

  “No. I have to stay one more night.”

  “But you said you’d be home.”

  I closed my eyes as guilt flooded me. What the hell sort of mother was I? Why was I doing this story? Why had I just slept with the man who betrayed me and my son? I should be with Mason.

  “I know baby. I had some car trouble. I’m going to get up really early tomorrow and come home to see you, okay.”

  He sniffed. “’k.”

  “Did you and grandma have a good day today.”

  “Yeah. We made cookies for you.”

  God, could this day get any worse? “I’ll want one first thing when I get home tomorrow.” I chatted with him a bit more and then said goodnight. When I got off the phone, I was both exhausted and wired. What I needed was a drink, but this little motel didn’t have stocked mini-fridges or a restaurant.

  Washing my face, I headed down the street to Salvation Station, a local bar and restaurant. It was still a bit early for the dinner rush, so not many people were there. Ryder Simms was behind the bar. Seeing him made me think of Simon’s cheap tricks and I decided to switch my order from wine to something stronger.

  “Hey, Erica,” Ryder smiled. “What can I get you?”

  “Vodka and coke.” Booze and sugar. That’s what I needed.

  “You back for your story?” he asked as he poured my drink.

  “Yes.” Although, I didn’t have a story. Not anymore. “I’m heading home tomorrow.”

  “You must have a lot of dirt on Stark now. You’ve been working on this story for months.” He set my drink in front of me. Several months ago, I’d walked in here to start that story and met Ryder for the first time. He was handsome and friendly, and for a moment I found myself drawn to him. Or perhaps distracted was a better way to put it. But it was clear that he and Trina were meant to be, even if Trina didn’t know it or want to acknowledge it at the time.

  “It’s in depth for sure,” I said, taking a long swig of my drink. “Tell me, Ryder, when you learned that the gig you were playing for Stark was for Wallace, why didn’t you leave? Did Stark threaten you?”

  The truth I had to face was that while I still believed Simon was a greedy opportunist, he wasn’t totally wrong about how things had turned out in Salvation. Ryder did play the gig event though it was for his sister’s mayoral opponent. Simon said money trumped all, but Ryder was a good person, there had to be more to the story there.

  He shrugged as he leaned his forearm on the bar. “I nearly left.”

  “Why didn’t you?” God, I wanted him to tell me that Simon had threatened him with something heinous.

  “For one, I made a commitment. Two, I needed the money.”

  My heart sank. “Money. So, he’s right. Money trumps everything. Even love.”

  Ryder frowned. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You just said you needed the money. You had to know it was betraying your sister. I can’t imagine that Trina was okay with it.”

  He studied me for a moment. “I did it for Trina and the baby. And while I was sure Sinclair would bust my balls for it, I knew she’d understand and in the end support it. After, I used Stark’s money to make sure he couldn’t buy this place.”

  I sat up and smiled. “Beat him at his own game.”

  “Right. The problem with Stark is that he’s so sure that money is all anyone wants, that he underestimates the power of love and family.” He grabbed a towel and wiped the counter where a man two stools down had just left. “Take that whole deal with the Mayor and Brooke. He thought he’d get one over on the Mayor by exploiting Brooke’s father’s financial problems. What he didn’t anticipate was how much the mayor cared for Brooke’s father and Brooke.”

  I nodded.

  “And that thing with Holly, bringing Rick back. Again, he saw love as a weapon, and it backfired because you can’t fake love. Not the real thing. It’s sad really.”

  “Rick?”

  “Well him too, but Stark. I mean, the guy has a lot going for him, but he’s hell bent on being an a-one asshole.”

  “True.”

  “In all your research, do you know why?” Ryder asked with genuine interest.

  I considered telling him that Simon hadn’t always been like that. Or maybe he had. Maybe that kind part of him wasn’t real. I don’t know why he’d be faking it five years ago, but since his reaction to my pregnancy, I hadn’t seen the old Simon. Well, I had a glimpse for a moment when he was touching me.

  No, I reminded myself. That was my mind playing tricks on me.

  “Poor little rich boy, I suppose,” I said. “His parents weren’t involved in his life.”

  “Ah man, that sucks.”

  I looked at Ryder in surprise. “It doesn’t give him the right to be a jerk and hurt people.”

  “No, but there’s nothing like family. It’s sad when people don’t have that, don’t you think?”

  I suppose I wasn’t surprised by his compassion and I had to agree. I had my mother and Mason. Simon had no one except the people he hired.

  “Speak of the devil.” Ryder nodded toward the door.

  I turned and saw Simon enter. When he saw me, surprise shone on his face, but then he made a b-line to me.

  I was wrong. This day could still get worse. I stood up and tossed money on the bar, ready to make my exit.

  “Thanks Ryder.”

  “Want your change?”

  “Nope.” I started to the door, but Simon stopped me.

  “Don’t go. I have a proposition for you.”

  I glared at him. “I don’t want to hear it Simon.”

  “You don’t know that until you hear it.”

  “I know that I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. And since you tanked my story, I don’t have to.”

  Why I’d agreed to do the story was beyond me. Well no that’s not true. While my initial response was to turn down the story Nebraska Now asked me to write after my initial reporting of Sinclair’s work to thwart Simon’s prison, there had been a vengeful part of me that accepted it. I hated that Simon had called me out on that. I wished I was a bigger person. Mason deserved a mother who didn’t waste time she could be with her son by trying to ruin his father.

  “Did you love me before?” he asked. He had his impassible mask on so I knew he didn’t care about my answer.

  “What does it matter?”

  “If I’d asked you to marry me then, would you have said yes?”

  “Simon, what happened in the past is gone. A part of me thinks it never really happened. It was never real.”

  He flinched, but then his mask fell back into place. “We should get married.”

  I gaped. �
��Are you on drugs?”

  He surprised me by laughing. “Well, that’s not a no. Please, Lesl--Erica, hear me out. If you don’t like my idea, say no. That will be the end of it, I promise.”

  “Your promises mean nothing.”

  He leaned in closer. “That’s not true. I’ve never lied and I’ve never broken my word. People think that about me because I’m ruthless in business. Think Erica. Have I ever lied or not followed through on something I said I would.”

  I hated that he was right about that.

  “There’s a table over there. Join me.”

  I told myself it was journalistic curiosity that had me sitting in the booth with him.

  “You want to write a story about me.”

  “I want to expose you for the man you are,” I corrected him.

  “What better way to learn about me than to be married to me?”

  I laughed. “You’re serious?”

  “Of course.” He leaned his forearms on the table and sat forward. “You get every sordid detail of who I am and I promise not to block the story, and I’ll even help it find a place to publish.”

  I narrowed my eyes as I studied him trying to find the loophole. “What’s in for you?”

  He sat back. “Improved optics.”

  Huh?

  “Listen, this town is full of people who banded together in fake matrimony to get what they wanted, right?”

  “Usually it was to stop you.”

  “Not Ryder and Trina. Not Ms. St. James and Mr. Marshall.”

  God, he was right about that too. Was he also correct that we all attributed more bad acts than he was actually responsible for?

  “The point is, this town builds alliances, albeit in a strange way, but they do. All I’m doing is working to build an alliance with you.”

  “I don’t live here. I don’t see how that helps you.”

  He shrugged. “People know and like you.” He nodded toward Ryder. “They trust you. If you’re married to me, there must be some redeeming quality to me, right?”

  “Except there isn’t.”

  He looked down, and for a moment, I thought maybe I’d hurt him.

  When he looked up his mask was there. “Perception is reality, Erica. You get your story. I’m even willing to sweeten the deal. Give you some of what you wanted in the first place.”

  I looked at him not sure what he was talking about.

  “Money, love.”

  I sat back in disgust.

  “You’ll build your writing reputation, make some money, and all I ask is that you look like you respect me. Help me look reformed.”

  I stood. “I don’t make deals with the devil.” I walked out before I could be tempted by the story or the money. It didn’t make any sense. He had to have some other hidden agenda, and I for one wasn’t going to get insured by it.

  I returned to the hotel, slept a few hours, and then was on the road home before the sun was up, ready to leave Salvation and Simon behind for good.

  When I got home I immediately went to find Mason.

  “Mommy?” his voice was filled with sleep.

  “Yes baby.”

  “You’re back early,” my mother said as she appeared in his doorway.

  “Yes. I want my cookie. Will you get it for me?” I asked my sweet boy. He had my coloring, but I saw a lot of Simon in him. But what I saw most was the sweet kind man that had made Mason with me in an act of love.

  “Maybe later.” Mason lay back down.

  I looked at my mother and frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  “He wasn’t feeling very well last night. He doesn’t have a fever but he’s sort of clammy and he didn’t want dinner.”

  “Did you call the doctor?”

  My mother gave me that look that said I was overreacting. I didn’t care. This was my baby.

  “I gave him some medicine and was going to check on him this morning.”

  “Come on Mason, let’s get up,” I said, pulling him into my lap. He looked pale and he sagged against me.

  “I don’t want to. I’m tired.”

  I looked at my mother.

  “He’s just tired,” she said.

  “He’s four. And when is he ever like this?” I picked him up. “Come on baby, we’re going to see the doctor.” Thankfully my mother didn’t try to stop me.

  Yesterday, I thought the worst thing in my life was how Simon was ruining my career and toying with my emotions. As today drew to an end, I knew none of that mattered. The doctor took a listen to his heart and I knew from the expression on his face that something was up. Next thing I knew we were at the hospital and Mason was undergoing tests for some sort of heart concern.

  My mother was full of apologies, but I didn’t care about that. All I cared about was my son.

  Finally, a doctor came out and I was hell bent on not letting him go away again without telling me what was going on.

  “Mason has an arrhythmia—”

  “That’s bad, right?” God, was my son seriously ill? And I wasted all this time on that bastard Simon.

  “It can be but not necessarily.”

  “So, what’s the problem, doctor?” my mother asked.

  “Well, we noticed that he has longer limbs than usual for a child his age.”

  I looked at my mother then the doctor. “So? His father was long and lean too.”

  The doctor’s brow rose up. “Really. Do you know if he had marfan syndrome?”

  “What?” I asked. Simon had always seemed healthy to me.

  “What’s that?” my mother asked.

  “It’s a connective tissue disorder that’s usually genetic. A parent with it or a carrier of it has a fifty percent chance of giving it to their child.”

  I swallowed. “I don’t know.” And while I didn’t want to ask Simon, at this point, I’d do anything for my child. “Do you need his father?”

  “Not necessarily. I’m going to run some tests, which will confirm or not.”

  “What about his heart?” my mother asked.

  “That’s the thing about marfan. I can impact the heart, joints, eyes…if he does have it, we’ll want to schedule regular checks on his heart and skeletal system. Eye exams. And he’ll need to avoid strenuous sports. No contact sports.”

  I remembered how Simon said he never did sports. He only swam. Was this why?

  “But he’ll be fine?” I asked.

  “It’s not curable, but it’s treatable. He may eventually need surgery. I’m still looking at that for his heart. He will always be at risk, but many people with marfan live long lives. Let’s first see what we’re dealing with and then we’ll work on a plan, okay?” The doctor smiled reassuringly.

  It occurred to me that Mason’s problem wasn’t something that a single treatment would fix. This was a life-long disorder and that meant regular medical intervention. I had health insurance, but it was the minimum. I closed my eyes as I realized that I’d need money to pay for Mason’s health care and the only one who would give it to me, didn’t want anything to do with my son.

  “This is going to be costly,” my mother said.

  “I think I have an answer.” God, that meant I’d need to be gone from Mason right when he needed me. But if that’s what it took to get my son the care he needed, I do it.

  “What’s that?” my mother asked.

  “I’m getting married.”

  7

  Simon

  It wasn’t the fact that I was disappointed in Erica’s response to my proposal that bothered me. I was often disappointed when my plans didn’t go as I’d intended. What was bothersome was the level of disappointment I felt. It was so acute that I had to be grateful that she did say no because I clearly had too much emotional investment in her to be safe.

  When I first saw her in Salvation Station, I’d been surprised. I expected that she’d gone home. But then I thought it was fortuitous. If I was a man who believed in destiny I might have said the meeting was fated. She clearly didn’t want
to see me, but she heard me out. She didn’t even consider my marriage proposal, which also surprised me. I was offering what she’d been after all those years ago.

  I had my drink and went home, heading straight to bed. Her showing up in my dreams naked on my window seat was to be expected. I accepted that and even finished off the dream with a good jerk off. She couldn’t hurt me in my dreams and fantasies, so indulging in them wasn’t a problem. In fact, it was ideal. I could have the satisfaction without the betrayal.

  I spent the next day at home taking my usual morning swim, having breakfast and then dealing with work. I’d need to go to Omaha soon to deal with some business, but for today, I could deal with everything I needed right here. I did some research on land and commercial real estate availability in the area, but didn’t see anything that caught my eye.

  I spent the rest of the day reading and enjoying my solitude. I’d considered going for a walk but ominous clouds appeared.

  After dinner, I was in my office reviewing possible debate questions for the upcoming mayoral debate, although I was considering moving to another room in the house as I couldn’t stop looking over the window seat where I’d had Erica. It was really disconcerting how much I wished she was there now.

  I tossed my papers on the desk and rubbed the back of my neck. I rose to get a glass of whisky when the doorbell rang.

  I’d given Marvin the rest of the night off, so I made my way to answer it. I couldn’t imagine who it would be unless it was someone who was lost. Or maybe it was someone out to give me an earful as Tucker Marshall had a few weeks back. It had been irritating how that young man was able to see right through me. He missed his calling as a teacher. He should have been a shrink like his mother.

  I opened the door just as lightning cracked across the sky. I looked to the person who’d be out on such a night.