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

by Deborah Cooke

  “How many more are there?”

  “Two. Number four: no poetry.”

  That one surprised Ty completely. “I didn’t realize we were at risk of random poetry,” he said. “Mine or any poet in particular?”

  “Just no poetry.”

  She was mystifying.

  “Because mine would be worth avoiding at any cost.”

  She smiled.

  “Okay. And one more? Let’s have it.”

  “That one’s just for me.”

  “Then how will I follow it?”

  “You don’t have to. It’s to keep me from doing something.”

  What was it Shannyn wanted to do but had decided not to? Ty was curious, but he knew she wouldn’t tell him. Better to let it go, maybe figure it out on his own.

  No sex, kissing, poetry or late conversations. If Ty hadn’t known better, he might have concluded that Shannyn thought there was a chance she could start to believe their relationship was real.

  Ty had to think about that. Did he want this to become a real relationship? He liked being with Shannyn and how she always pushed him a little. He liked being challenged to deliver a little bit more. And he liked the way she surprised him, a lot. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed a woman’s company so much.

  He asked her about her job for the Met and watched her eyes light as she described the project, and the upcoming show. She was excited about her work and proud of it, which made her more forthcoming. There were sounds of activity in the kitchen and tempting smells wafting into the restaurant. It was comparatively early for New Yorkers to eat out and cozy having the place pretty much to themselves. Shannyn told him about the shots she’d sent to the alumni magazine, then pulled out a notebook and pen.

  “If I’m going to study, I need to take notes.” She held up four fingers, prompting his smile that she remembered. “First agenda item is a family summary from Tyler McKay. You have four sisters, three married, one each year.

  “You have a good memory.”

  “It hasn’t been tested much yet.”

  “Okay.” Ty held up a finger. “Lauren. Oldest daughter, next after me, probably my favorite sister.”

  “Are you allowed to have a favorite?”

  “Only if you don’t tell the others. She’s thirty, married three years ago to Mark.”

  “You don’t like him,” Shannyn guessed and Ty was startled.

  “I’ll never tell.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. It’s all over your face.” She made a note. “What does he do?”

  “Real estate broker.” Ty took a sip of water. “She’s a hairdresser uptown, who unravels everyone’s secrets and proposes diplomatic solutions.”

  “Useful talent in a big family.”

  “Absolutely. Next there’s Stephanie, married to Anthony last spring. She’s twenty-eight and finishing grad school. He’s a lawyer.”

  “In town?”

  “No, they’re in Boston and will be coming down the week before the wedding to stay with my parents.”

  “Do they live in Connecticut? You said the wedding would be there.”

  Ty nodded and watched her making notes. Was Shannyn going to study? If she thought that had merit, then they had something else in common. “My parents moved out there before they started a family and still go to the same church.”

  “Sister number three?”

  “Paige, married two years ago to Derek.”

  “Paige the house collector and Derek the roof savior.”

  “She does his accounting and they had a son last November. Ethan.”

  “The colicky one.” Shannyn looked up from her notes. “First grandchild?”

  “Yes, because we’re way behind.” Ty shook his head at the injustice of it all and she smiled. “My mom’s sister, Teresa, has nine grandchildren already. One is better than none, but my sisters have to lift their game.”

  “But not you?”

  Ty made a face. “I try to deflect all discussion about the heir to the throne.”

  “Why?”

  He raised a hand. “I don’t think it’s that important.

  “Come on.” Shannyn put down her pen. “You just haven’t gotten to that point of your life yet. When you’re married and all your finances are in order, you’ll want kids. A boy and then a girl. A house. Then a Labrador retriever.”

  “I don’t think so,” Ty protested, sensing that this mattered.

  “Why not?”

  “Because that sounds more like an inventory than a list. What about making a good marriage and not worrying about the rest? You’re supposed to become a team when you get married, and a team pivots to address concerns as they come up. Every partnership can’t assume that their goals are the same as every other partnership. That makes no sense. It would be really boring, too, if everyone wanted exactly the same thing.”

  She was watching him, her thoughts hidden, and he sensed that his answer was important.

  “You’re adopted,” he continued. “You, of all people, must recognize that making babies doesn’t need to be the goal of every marriage.”

  Shannyn took a breath and dropped her gaze to her notes, her posture tense. “You’re right. It’s not a common view, though.”

  “Especially among those who get whatever they want,” Ty guessed. He leaned closer. “But if someone is used to getting whatever they want, why wouldn’t they want more than the average?”

  “What’s more?”

  “A really great marriage and partnership, one that leaves all other objectives in the shade.” As soon as he said the words, Ty knew they were true.

  “That’s what you want?”

  “Ultimately. But I don’t expect it to drop into my lap. It’ll take time and effort to build that kind of relationship. It’ll require sacrifices and rebalancing of priorities, but it’ll totally be worth it.”

  “That’s why you think you don’t have time.”

  “Exactly.”

  Shannyn held his gaze for a long hot moment and Ty didn’t even take a breath. He felt as if he’d passed some unexpected test, even though he wasn’t sure what it had been. Then she dropped her gaze to her book again. “Sister number four?” she invited and Ty felt that something precious had slipped away.

  He wished he knew how to get it back.

  “Katelyn, the bride-to-be. Jared is an artist, doing pretty well for himself. Big paintings I don’t understand. Lots of black.”

  Shannyn smiled at that.

  “They live in a loft in Soho and my mother is happy they’re making it legal.”

  “What does Katelyn do?”

  “She makes jewelry. I don’t understand it either.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s...unexpected.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” Shannyn confessed.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he asked, his tone teasing. “You’ll probably like it. And I’m going to guess that you’ll be able to explain both to me.” She blushed as she looked back at her notes, so he wasn’t out of the game yet. On a whim, he pulled up the invitation to their joint show on his phone and showed it to her.

  “The Power of Two,” Shannyn read. “An exploration in duality, rendered in pigment and silver.” She met his gaze. “Sounds interesting.”

  “Does it? I have no idea what it means.”

  “Is this an invitation?” she asked warily.

  “It is an invitation, but it was sent to me.” He plucked his phone out of her hand. “You’re welcome to come, of course, but I’m not asking you.”

  “Should I be surprised?” She was wary again.

  “Not really. I just like to pick battles I have a chance of winning.”

  Shannyn laughed in her relief, her reaction telling Ty he’d played that one right.

  “What is that ring anyway?” he asked lightly. “It looks like a pet octopus on your finger.”

  She pulled it off and handed it to him. It was heavy, silver and still warm. “It’s a
fork.”

  To Ty’s surprise, it had been made from a sterling fork, that had been heated and twisted around so the tines look like tentacles.

  Unexpected. Beautiful. Unique.

  “Reduce, recycle and reuse.” It was a perfect expression of Shannyn’s philosophy.

  That was how she did it. She took classic clothes, then added something unexpected, like that ring.

  Shannyn put it on her finger again, their hands brushing for a moment. “I never thought of it as a pet octopus, but you’re right. It does kind of look like that. The artist does necklaces and bracelets and wind chimes, too, but I liked this ring.”

  Maybe Ty would go to his sister’s show. Maybe he’d find something to mix up his look a bit. It was an idea he immediately liked.

  He wished he could convince Shannyn to go with him.

  “What about the helpful aunties?” she prompted. “You’ve only mentioned one.”

  “Teresa is my mom’s big sister.”

  “The one with all the grandkids?”

  Ty nodded. “And there’s Maureen, my mom’s baby sister. Her daughter Maxine is unmarried.” He sighed. “Someone will mention the toilet paper incident. It was Maxine, last year at Stephanie’s wedding. She came back to the dance floor with it trailing from her shoe. My sisters are pretty merciless in teasing her about it.”

  “Because she’s been merciless to them in the past?”

  He paused to consider that then appreciated her perceptiveness. “You know, I guess she was, especially when we were kids. She’s the same age as me and kind of lorded it over my sisters.”

  “And parents?”

  “My mom is Colleen and has always been a homemaker.”

  “Five kids would have kept her busy.”

  Especially given her keen management of them all, but Ty didn’t say that. “My dad, Jeffrey, is a retired investment banker who pretty much lets Mom steer the course while he works on his golf game. Forty or so years married.”

  “You don’t know exactly?” Shannyn asked with a bright sidelong glance.

  Ty smiled. “Thirty-seven years. August 15.”

  She made a note.

  “Be warned that there will be garden club ladies and church ladies and an entire social network in attendance. My mom was organizing events long before the first engagement in the family.”

  “Big wedding then.”

  Ty nodded, suspecting he looked a little bit weary.

  “You don’t like that.”

  “It seems like a lot of money, trouble and pressure to celebrate something that’s private in the end.” He thought of Lauren visiting him and her comment about their mom’s planning. “And I have to wonder if people can just get swept along, that if they have any last-minute doubts, they’re afraid to say anything and stop the juggernaut.”

  “How are you going to manage your big day when it comes?”

  “After four years of this, I think elopements have a certain appeal.”

  “Family weddings can be fun.”

  “I can tell you haven’t attended any lately. I think of them as endurance tests.”

  “You must have a crazy auntie who insists on dancing the Macarena with you.”

  He smiled. “My grandmother. Everyone calls her Trixie.” His gaze lingered on Shannyn. “You’ll like her,” he said and knew it was true.

  Her smile was quick. “I’d better practice my Macarena, then.”

  They laughed together, then the waiter brought the soup. It was a creamy tomato bisque with a swirl of cream on the surface and embellished with fresh basil.

  “Made fresh,” Shannyn said quietly after she had a taste. “And from scratch. This chef knows his stuff.” She took another taste and he watched her savor it and consider it.

  “Are you getting ideas?”

  “I am. And tomorrow is a cooking day. This will influence results.”

  She spoke with such conviction that Ty was curious, but he didn’t push his luck. “Your turn,” he said. “Tell me about your family.”

  Twelve

  Shannyn was seduced. It had been a long time since she’d gone out for a nice dinner, but that wasn’t the source of her pleasure. She enjoyed the intimacy of the restaurant, the food, but mostly she liked having Tyler’s attention. There was a little sizzle of attraction between them, one that disproved all her arguments to herself about this just being about checking details. She felt good, dressed up a little, and the glow of admiration in his eyes would have affected any woman’s pulse.

  It could have been a real date.

  It would have been easy to think of it as one. She reminded herself to have no expectations beyond the deal. He was trying to convince her that he was a nice guy and he was succeeding with ease. As soon as she admitted he’d won that challenge, would he turn off the charm? Shannyn didn’t want to see it vanish.

  She was enjoying herself.

  And she’d told Tyler the rules. To his credit, he wasn’t making any moves.

  The problem was her post-Cole philosophy to live in the moment and follow impulse was a direct challenge to her new surviving-Tyler rules. It was just in her nature to be defiant. She’d put that inclination aside in high school and college, hoping to have her dreams come true, kind of as a reward for good behavior. In a way, having them shattered had revived her old habit of breaking all the rules, just because.

  That must be why she already wanted to abandon these five.

  It was only natural to wonder how much Tyler had to do with that change.

  Shannyn belatedly realized he was waiting for her to speak. “Well, you met Aidan. Besides him, there’s just my mom.”

  “The dressmaker.”

  She nodded, wondering how much he’d be shocked by the differences in their financial situations. Well, he wasn’t going to know unless she told him, so she would. “Here’s where we have nothing in common. I grew up in a small town, Harte’s Harbor. My dad died when I was a kid and my mom raised us. There was never enough money.”

  “It doesn’t seem as if that held either of you back.”

  “We helped out. I learned to sew, too, and we both know how to make do.”

  “That’s how you got into thrifting.”

  “I apprenticed with the high mistress herself,” Shannyn admitted and Tyler chuckled. “My mom has amazing thrifting powers. And it works. A lot of times, we’d make a find, fix it, sell it, and fill a gap.”

  “It’s really practical. You’re converting me.” Ty gave her a little smile filled with approval that sent fire right to her toes.

  “But you’re a reluctant convert.”

  He laughed. “Does it matter? I’m really curious about seeing what you’ve done with that furniture.”

  “You’ll be blown away.”

  Again, Ty gave her a warm smile and this time, his voice dropped low. “I have no doubt.”

  Shannyn felt a little flustered. She looked down at her soup and tried to get the conversation back on track. “It was a family goal to send me to college. We scraped and scrimped and I made it, just barely, with a scholarship added into the mix.”

  “And Aidan?”

  “He signed up instead. He did a tour in Afghanistan that he never talks about.”

  “But that’s not why he was away.”

  “No. That was years ago.”

  “What does he do now?”

  Shannyn smiled, knowing that this would floor Tyler, the man who always had a plan. “He wanders. One of his buddies from the service lived in Idaho and another in California, which was the reason he bought a Land Rover after he got home, then drove across America. In California, he decided to go south instead of east. He drove to Tierra del Fuego, down the west side of both continents and back up the east side. He was gone a year and a half.”

  Ty nodded, his expression composed. He had to be hiding his shock and disapproval. “That’s one of the maps you have in your office.”

  He was observant, that was for sure. “You’re right. I had t
he house to myself by the time he got back and he came to stay for a bit, fixing some things for me.”

  “But no financial contributions?”

  “He brought me tiles from Mexico and helped put them in my kitchen. He’s handy.”

  “But shouldn’t he pay you rent when he crashes at your place or contribute financially?” Tyler looked as if he was going to rattle Aidan’s cage over cash, and as much as Shannyn thought it was a noble goal, she understood her brother’s reality better than that. The waiter took their soup plates away.

  “That’s a serious long shot,” Shannyn said. “Do you remember Venn diagrams?”

  Tyler blinked at her abrupt change of subject. “Sure. Showing relationships with circles.”

  “Exactly.” She indicated her side plate. “So, let’s say this is money.”

  “Okay.”

  She took Tyler’s side plate. “And this is you.” She put his plate on top of hers. “Your relationship with money is absolute, complete, intuitive and instinctive. You make it, you grow it, you save it, you understand it thoroughly. Maybe you have some magical ability to attract it or conjure it out of nothing, but it follows you and sticks to you. You’ve known it all your life and have a thorough understanding of it, like breathing.”

  Ty smiled just a little and she looked back down at the plates, stomping down on her urge to reach out and touch his mouth. “I’ll let that go for the sake of argument,” he murmured.

  Shannyn picked up the top plate and moved it so that it slightly overlapped the one on the table. “And this is me now, with my passing acquaintance with money. It comes and it goes, and I try to make some of it stick in the right places, sometimes with success and sometimes not. I have a mortgage, I pay my taxes and I do my billing, but in my universe, there’s always room for a better relationship with money. Maybe just more of it.”

  “Okay.” Tyler was watchful, like he was ready to step up and propose a solution, but he remained silent.

  Shannyn put the plate down on the other side of the table, a good three feet from the first plate. “And this is Aidan’s relationship with money.”

  Tyler laughed out loud, as if she’d surprised him. “He has none.”

  “It is the most casual of flirtations. He never has any. He never chases it. He just doesn’t care. He’s not materialistic but he is lucky. He always lands on his feet somehow somewhere. Money isn’t particularly relevant to him.” Shannyn lifted a finger. “It’s not that he’s lazy. He seldom has a job but he works hard. He’s practical and he can fix things. So, when Aidan comes to stay, taps stop dripping, light bulbs get replaced, fridges stop making odd noises and holes get patched. Walls get painted. Fences get built.”