Just One Fake Date: A Contemporary Romance (Flatiron Five Fitness Book 1)

by Deborah Cooke

  Ty dropped onto the other stool and counted them back. “Shannyn and I met at college together, just like I told Mom. She’s not fiction. Derek met her.”

  “True, but your relationship could be fiction.” Lauren gave him an intent look as if she knew Ty would have to lie.

  “It’s not,” he said flatly, then continued before his sister could ask. “She’s not here, much less hiding from you, and yes, that could be a contributing factor to my current mood.”

  “Not Mom’s questions, then?”

  “I’ve been ducking her calls a bit.”

  Lauren laughed then leaned forward, eyes sparkling. If nothing else, he’d managed to improve her mood. “I should warn you. Mom is seriously hot about this. If Shannyn comes to the shower next Sunday, be ready for the Mommy Test.”

  Ty let that go, thinking there wasn’t much chance of Shannyn being there.

  Lauren studied him. “What’s she like?”

  “Small. Cute. Ferocious and unpredictable.”

  “So totally not your type.”

  “What do you mean? I like women. She’s a woman.”

  “No, you like gorgeous women. Women buffed to a sheen, women who could be models. But they’re not. They’re all super-ambitious career machines with hearts of ice.” Lauren made a face. “Barracudas, every one of them.”

  Ty was startled. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

  Lauren shook her head. “Take Giselle. She had you in her sights like nobody’s business.” She made claws with her hands. “I think you were the airline retirement plan. What made you finally realize that I have shoes with greater empathy?”

  “I knew almost right away.”

  “Really? Yet you brought her to Grandma Trixie’s eightieth birthday? Strange choice for a first date.”

  “It was an act of pure desperation.”

  Lauren pointed at him. “That I understand.”

  Once Ty started to confess, the truth came easily. “She was the stewardess in the first class cabin. Very pretty.”

  “She is that.”

  “Charming. Interested.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “Proof only that she’s heterosexual and has a pulse.”

  Ty ignore the implied compliment. “Mom called before we pushed back. Mom called again when we landed.” He met Lauren’s gaze steadily. “Mom had an agenda item to resolve.”

  His sister grinned. “Grandma Trixie’s eightieth birthday party. And more importantly, the great showdown between the Preston sisters.” Lauren sat back and nodded, then mimicked their mother expertly. “You know, dear, that Aunt Teresa’s children are all married and she has nine grandchildren already...”

  Ty made a dismissive gesture. “I knew before we even got to the party that I’d made a mistake.”

  “Kudos to you for that.” His sister toasted him. “I was afraid you might have been thinking with your dick.”

  “Thank you very much.” Ty sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ve been listening to Kyle for too long. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Pretending you were still seeing her?”

  “That. Kyle thought it was brilliant. Me, not so much.”

  “Good. The longer I heard about Giselle, the more I worried about you.” Lauren folded her arms across her chest. “Are you still taking advice from Kyle?”

  “Why?”

  “Small, cute, ferocious and unpredictable? How could you even talk about a woman like that and expect us to believe it’s love?” She shook her head. “Seriously?”

  Lauren was right—but also wrong. It was the element of surprise, Ty realized. Being with Shannyn was an adventure, and one he didn’t want to stop.

  “Those women were predictable,” Ty explained. “I knew exactly what they’d do when and how the relationship would evolve. I knew when the demands would start, and the arguments, and the shrill bits.”

  Lauren seemed to be fighting a smile. “The shrill bits?”

  “I hate the shrill bits,” he admitted and she chuckled. “So, I’d break it off before we got to that part. I’d meet someone else, sparks would fly, and the whole thing would progress exactly the same way. I could see the signs with Giselle before we even got to the party.”

  “Your future unfolded before your eyes.”

  “Sure. The hot sex after the party. The forgotten something or other in my apartment. The phone calls, the endless text messages, the dropping by, the contrivance of coincidence.” He recalled Giselle turning up on Tuesday night all too easily and sighed at her timing.

  “And then the shrill bits.”

  “Inevitably.” He shook his head. “I don’t have time for a serious relationship but was obviously picking women with different goals. Only truly stupid people keep doing the same thing and expecting different results. Something had to change. I didn’t know what, not until Shannyn turned up again.”

  “You remembered her from before.”

  “It’s hard to forget someone who calls you a smug entitled asshole.”

  Lauren laughed. She laughed so hard that she almost fell off the stool. “I like her already,” she said when she could speak again.

  “I never know what she’s going to do or say.”

  “And that’s interesting.”

  “It is, because it always makes sense when she explains it. I just haven’t solved the riddle yet.”

  “Have you considered that you might be married with a couple of kids by the time you figure out the enigma that is Shannyn?” she teased.

  The chances of that were so slim that Ty sobered.

  He gestured to Lauren and changed the subject. “Your turn. Why are you really here? Something up with Mark?”

  She winced. “Trust you to spoil the mood with insightful questions.”

  “You want a drink?”

  “Definitely. If you still have some of that single malt Scotch that Katelyn bought you for Christmas, make mine a double.”

  Ty did. He got the bottle, two glasses and poured. “Cheers,” he said, lifted his glass and took a substantial sip. It was as good as its PR.

  “To women who challenge expectation,” Lauren said and took a sip. At Ty’s glance, she nodded sagely. “It’s good for you. Now I really want to meet her.”

  Ty bit his tongue. He was going to need a story for the bridal shower, and he had no idea what it would be. What were the chances of him finding another woman named Shannyn by then?

  Small to nonexistent.

  About the same as his chances of making a new deal with the Shannyn he did know. He threw back the rest of his Scotch at that, then realized Lauren was watching him.

  “What aren’t you saying?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Come on!”

  Ty chose an excuse. He wasn’t ready to share the truth. He might not ever be. “Mom’s...enthusiasm just makes things a lot more complicated.”

  Lauren nodded agreement. “I hear you. I sometimes wonder if I only married Mark to stop Mom’s pestering.” She sipped her drink and stared out the window.

  “Mom means well.”

  “Yes,” Lauren said in a long exhalation. “That’s always the rationale.”

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “Bumps in the road,” she said lightly and Ty knew she wasn’t ready to share more. “We’ll work it out.” Her words didn’t ring with her usual cheerful confidence, though. She finished her drink and shook her head when he offered another.

  “You know where I am if and when you want to talk.”

  “Ditto. Maybe you should stop taking advice from Kyle.”

  “Probably.” Ty smiled. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s the most honest person I know.”

  Lauren scoffed. “Maybe you need to get out more.”

  “Maybe you should give credit where it’s due,” Ty argued, wondering again why Lauren had always been set against Kyle. It wasn’t like Lauren to take an instant dislike to anyone, but that was what
had happened. “Kyle is absolutely up-front about his disinterest in commitment. When it comes to romance, he’s in for a good time but not a long time, and every woman he dates knows it in thirty seconds.”

  “He’s going to get a disease one of these days.”

  “And when he does, he’ll be direct about that, as well.” Ty shook his head. “I’m sorry you two never saw eye to eye.”

  “Since he’s one of your oldest friends.” Lauren smiled. “Who says opposites don’t attract? Maybe that’s part of the appeal—with Kyle and with Shannyn.” There were times when his sister sounded more like a psychologist than a hairdresser, but then, maybe that came with the territory.

  There was a moment of companionable silence between them, the lights of the city twinkling far below. A siren echoed from the street and Lauren cleared her throat. She looked around his apartment with admiration, but her next words surprised him. “Always the neat freak.”

  “What?”

  “Your room was always organized and tidy. Military precision when you made your bed. Mom was always so proud that your room wasn’t a pit, like Katelyn’s.” Lauren pursed her lips. “I always figured you had a secret. I imagined some pretty good ones over the years.”

  “Like?”

  “You might have been secretly gay.”

  “Seriously?”

  “If so, you did a really good job of hiding it. I’ve never met anyone so obviously heterosexual.”

  “Is that a crime?”

  “No. It’s reassuring. I’m curious to meet the woman who’s challenging your assumptions. She’s got to be good for you.”

  “You want me to come down and get you a cab?”

  Lauren laughed lightly. “Which is another way of saying don’t let the door hit you in the ass. I’ll get my own cab, thanks.” She paused to wave from the threshold. “Thanks for the drink and the conversation. It was exactly what I needed. There you go again: knowing what’s best for everyone.” Her smile turned mischievous. “Maybe that comes with the territory of being a smug entitled asshole.”

  “I’m not!”

  “Which is why it’s so interesting that she made that accusation. You’re not the only one intrigued by Shannyn.”

  Ty did go down to the lobby with Lauren and he did flag her a cab. He paid for it as well, waving off her thanks. She had her own shop but still didn’t make a lot of money as a stylist. Her gift was making people look their best, which had a value beyond money.

  He stood on the curb, the city swirling around him, and watched the cab’s tail lights as it headed uptown. Lauren waved from the back window, then the cab merged into the traffic and he lost track of it in the throng of traffic.

  He’d never told Lauren as much, but he really didn’t like Mark. Never had. Never would. If their marriage was falling apart, Ty wouldn’t cry. In fact, if their marriage was falling apart because Mark didn’t treasure Lauren, then the bastard didn’t deserve her. Ty’s mom would see things differently, but divorce might be good for Lauren. They didn’t have kids, so there wouldn’t be that complication.

  Divorce might give Lauren a chance at real happiness, and Ty wanted that for her, and all of his sisters, as much as he wanted it for himself.

  Why had she come downtown to see him on a Saturday night?

  Where was Mark and what was he doing?

  Ty doubted he’d ever know. He returned to his apartment, hearing the echo of dance music as he crossed the empty lobby, and decided it was another good night for a swim.

  Two days of silence.

  The echo was deafening.

  If Tyler had a negotiating strategy in this, Shannyn couldn’t figure out what it was. She knew he wanted her to go for dinner—at least he had wanted her to—but as the hours ticked by and he didn’t contact her, she began to consider the possibility that Aidan might be right.

  On Saturday, she’d finished up the cropping of the images and delivered them to Deanna. She saved some candid shots and submitted them with her application for the job at F5F. She got an auto-reply, but doubted Tyler knew anything about it. The application had gone to Cassie.

  On Sunday, she made her final list of needed images for the Met. She had her weekly call to Harte’s Harbor, including a very happy exchange between Aidan and her mom. Shannyn told her mom everything she knew about Tyler’s sister’s wedding, and was relieved when her mom immediately had a plan.

  She’d sent pictures of the furniture to her mom and they talked about the upholstery. Her mom gave her an address in the garment district to get some leather at a good price, and reminded her which zippers to buy. They agreed that Shannyn would cut out all the pieces, using the upholstery of the old cushions as her pattern, and pack it all up for Aidan to take home on Wednesday. Her mom would be able to sew it more quickly on her industrial machine and Aidan would bring it all back when he returned.

  Aidan, meanwhile, was cleaning and polishing the wood. Her place smelled like lemon oil, and it was hard not to get excited about how good it all looked.

  Shannyn wished Tyler could see it. She wanted to show him the results of his efforts, then ask if it was worth the dry cleaning bill for his suit. She made calls to some potential leads for the furniture and left messages.

  Monday was crazy, because she had to go to the Metropolitan Museum to meet the curator there for the final pictures, then go to the garment district, too. Aidan met her when she was done with her shoot, purely to act as a beast of burden. Once again, Flatiron Five Fitness emanated a magnetic pull as she rode the subway past it, but Shannyn didn’t surrender.

  She did, however, look up the address for Fleming Financial. If she was going to ask Tyler about his assumptions, maybe challenge them, she wanted to see his face. He’d be able to disguise his thoughts in a text message or on the phone, but not in real life. It was easy to guess the path he’d take from his day job back to his apartment at the end of the business day, so she knew she could intercept him.

  Shannyn found Derek’s quote for the roof on the floor of the foyer when she came home Monday, and guessed he’d slipped it under the door. She had to wonder if Paige had tagged along.

  On Tuesday, she cut all the fabric for her mom to sew, still hoping her phone would ring. No luck. On Wednesday, she took Aidan thrifting in Brooklyn and found him a new wardrobe in record time.

  “You’ve refined your skills,” he said with appreciation.

  Shannyn had been lucky since meeting Tyler again. “Just a coincidence,” she said. “Like the phases of the moon.” She decided to ride with her luck and that this would be the day she confronted Tyler. “I’ve got to go downtown.”

  Aidan made a face. “Then you’re not cooking for me?”

  “Not tonight. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  “Okay. I’ll get some take-out and finish the hutch for you.” Her brother was the most easygoing guy in the world.

  “Eat something from the freezer, if you want.”

  “But that’s your stash.”

  “It’s okay. You might as well drink the last two bottles of beer.”

  “It would just be wrong to leave them in your fridge when I leave. An imposition.” He raised his brows, as if alarmed by the idea of putting anyone out, and Shannyn couldn’t help but laugh.

  “You are the biggest imposition known to mankind,” she teased him and he grinned.

  “It’s a gift.” Then he sobered. “You going to talk to him?”

  “I’m going to find out whether you’re right.”

  “I am.” Aidan had no doubt in his conclusion. “He seemed like a straight arrow. Of course, he would walk if he thought we were a couple. That kind of shit wouldn’t be in his playbook.”

  “Even if we had a deal not a date?”

  Aidan gave her a look. “I’m not going to ask about that. I just think he’s the type to stand on principles, either way.”

  Shannyn wasn’t convinced, but she was going to find out.

  Ty’s phone buzzed as he walked
out of the office building where Fleming Financial was located. It was Wednesday night and and he was still in a bad mood. It was unusual for him to be out of sorts, but he couldn’t help it. Both his boss and his secretary had commented on it, even though he was trying to keep his thoughts hidden. He reached for his phone, willing to take any distraction.

  It was a text from Shannyn.

  He debated the merit of reading it for about half a second, then looked.

  Aidan’s my brother.

  Ty stopped cold in the street and stared at his phone. Someone bumped into him from behind and swore. Ty barely noticed. The other pedestrians flowed around him, but he was staring at Shannyn’s message.

  Her brother?

  He looked around, only to find Shannyn herself closing fast. She was dressed in her customary genderless black, her messenger bag bulging with something. She was also lugging what looked like a suitcase and Ty guessed from her posture that it was heavy.

  It certainly didn’t slow her down.

  “You didn’t think otherwise,” she accused hotly. “You can’t have thought otherwise. You’re supposed to be smart.” She put the suitcase down and exhaled, her cheeks flushed from the effort of carrying it. Ty had never been more glad to see anyone in his life. “Tell me you didn’t imagine Aidan was my partner or significant other or anything truly deeply gross like that.”

  Ty wanted to grin at her indignation.

  “Of course I did,” he protested, then realized she was suggesting the conclusion was his own fault. “He picked you up. He swung you around. You greeted him with unbridled joy. He tickled you and knew all the best spots.”

  “Unbridled joy,” she repeated then rolled her eyes. “He’s my brother. He’s been gone two years. What a crazy assumption you made.”

  “That’s not all. There’s a man’s razor in your bathroom.”

  Shannyn stared at him. “How can you have four sisters and not be aware of the pink tax?”

  “That’s just on...” Ty gestured.

  “Hygiene products? No. It’s price gouging on all the things women use, especially toiletries. Shampoo, deodorant, you name it. And guys’ razors are way better quality.”