by Nia Arthurs
I arch an eyebrow. What? What did I do?
He just shakes his head in a silent rebuke.
A few minutes later, Gerard slows the SUV in front of Gran’s building. I open my mouth to say something to Elizabeth, but she cuts me off by tossing a sweet smile at Gerard. “Thanks for the ride.”
“No problem, ma’am.”
I wait for her to say something to me.
She doesn’t.
Without a backward glance, Elizabeth throws her door open, flings herself out and hurries into the building.
I sigh deeply.
Run a hand over my face.
Think back to that cake tasting.
Is she upset because I was late?
I deliberate the matter, searching for every possible explanation. A vision of Elizabeth, eyes wide and mouth slack as I pull away after kissing her good and proper fills my mind.
Had I laid it on too thick?
Was she unsatisfied with my performance?
Maybe I kissed her too much?
I cringe.
It’s a possibility.
I’ll admit… kissing Elizabeth wasn’t unpleasant.
Okay. Fine.
It was downright pleasurable.
So I did it more than once.
In a variety of ways.
Whenever I damn well felt like it.
And she’d batted her eyes and sighed like she was on the edge of satisfaction every time.
I rub my beard.
Perhaps that response had been for Novah’s sake.
Or maybe not.
There’s got to be something deeper going on but, for the life of me, I can’t figure it out.
Gerard clears his throat. I can tell he’s bursting at the seams to give me some advice, so I climb out of the car and send him a dismissive wave. I’m really not in the mood for a lecture.
Once I’m upstairs, I cross the room to my grandmother’s office.
The secretary jumps to her feet.
I lift an arm.
Gesture for her to be at ease.
She takes her seat hesitantly, her brown eyes pinned to me.
I slow my stride as I glance at Elizabeth. Whatever she’s typing on her laptop must be important because her brown eyes are glued to the screen.
The way her fingers are clacking over that keyboard…
Yup.
She’s upset.
I slip a hand into my pocket. Step into Gran’s office. Wilt into the chair behind the desk. From where I’m sitting, I’ve got a clear view straight into the lobby.
I can see Elizabeth behind that desk.
I can see her frizzy brown hair.
Her graceful neck.
Her legs crossed over the other.
Now she’s chewing on the back of a pen and tapping one slim, brown finger against the desk.
“What are you thinking?” I muse.
Her forehead crease gets even worse.
Suddenly, she looks up.
Right into my office.
I jolt back, my chair spinning like a top and my heart thumping hard as I try to pretend that I’m not staring at her.
The door bursts open.
Levy hustles in, a big smile on his face.
I scowl. “What?”
“Thought you weren’t coming to the office?”
I try to shift my chair so I can peer at Elizabeth. “Changed my mind.”
“Really?” Levy inches to the left, blocking my view of my troublesome wife.
I lift my head.
Glare at him.
“What are you doing?”
“You’re taking over the company now?”
“No.” I pool my fingers together. “I told you this morning. I only agreed to the position so I could collect Gran’s paycheck. I’m a lawyer. I’ll stick with what I’m good at. You keep running the company.”
“I won’t be around forever, Brogan.”
“You’re too stubborn to die, Levy,” I mumble.
He laughs. “By the way, I arranged for Gerard to resume his job as the Harrington family driver.”
“Yeah.” I slide my annoyed gaze over to Levy. “I saw that.”
He places an envelope down on the table. “Here.”
“What is it?” I ask, not bothering to touch the envelope.
“The key card to your grandmother’s suite.”
“You mean the penthouse?”
“It’s paid for by the company. No mortgage. No bills. I had the cleaner in this morning. You and Elizabeth shouldn’t have any problems. ”
I lean forward. “Why are you giving me this?”
“The money you save on rent can go to the little girl you’re trying to help.”
I stiffen. “How do you know…?”
“Every penny of your advance was deposited into her account at the children’s hospital. I put two and two together.”
I grit my teeth and struggle with my rising desire to grab the keycard and chuck it. Taking my grandmother’s job was bad enough. Taking her driver and now her apartment?
I’ve never been that close to the woman.
I’ve always kept my distance.
First, it was my mother’s choice, but later it became my own. The last thing I want to do is feel like I’m slowly becoming Eldrina Harrington.
“Look,” Levy swallows, “I didn’t always agree with what your grandmother did. But I know, in her own way, she loved you very much and she just wanted the best for you.”
I bark out a laugh.
“It’s true. She was very thorough before she picked Lana—”
“She was very thorough when she kicked her out too.” I glare at him. “Kicked Steph out.”
“You have to understand. You had no blood relation to the child and neither did your grandmother. She didn’t see the need to pay for all those hospital bills when—”
“Please stop, Levy.”
“I shouldn’t have called you a pig, Brogan. If I had known this was where your money would go…”
“You’d what?”
He sighs loudly. “I’m not the enemy here. Neither was your grandmother. Let me know how I can help in the future.” He pins me with a stern look. “Be honest.” He chucks his chin through the wall at Elizabeth. “You’ll get a lot farther if you take that advice.”
Great. Looks like even when I run from a lecture, I still end up getting one.
“I’ve got it handled, Levy.”
He makes a tsking sound.
I sink into my seat and glare at the city outside as he exits. Annoyance brews in my chest. Levy’s wrong. There’s no sense being honest. No sense opening myself up only to find out I’ve been played.
At least this time, I know what’s real and what’s not.
This time, I’m in control of the lies.
And this time, I’m leaving my heart and my secrets out of my marriage.
Fourteen
Elizabeth
It’s been a long day. On top of avoiding my new boss-slash-fake-husband, I had to dodge Riley’s questions about my rushed marriage and find time to get all my work done with my brain still going into random overheat mode whenever I thought about Brogan’s kisses.
Doesn’t help that his office is made of glass and I have a freakishly amazing front-row seat to everything that goes on in it.
So yeah.
Mission Avoid My Fake Husband was only a minimal success.
All I want to do tonight is snuggle in bed with a tub of ice cream, fall down the rabbit hole of a Netflix binge and, forget about my fake husband, my fake wedding and this big mess I’ve gotten myself into.
But my hopes are dashed when I pull up to my apartment and can’t find a space to park my car.
The lot is flooded with vehicles.
I spot a ‘Yuh Betta Belize It’ bumper sticker and a huge weight drops onto my shoulders.
Mom’s here.
And she didn’t bring four aunts this time. If the number of cars is any indication, she brought a w
hole damn army. I drop my head against the steering wheel as I debate driving away from the invasion.
Before I can throw my stick shift into reverse, a full-figured woman sprints toward me, her short hair flopping over her ears. She’s wearing a blue dress, sensible black pumps and a thunderous expression on her pudgy, wrinkled face.
Mama.
She hurls herself in front of my vehicle. Throws her arms out. Stares me down like a bull about to impale a matador.
So much for running away.
Unless I plan on running her over.
With a sigh, I pull my keys from the ignition and climb out.
Hands lifted like a thug getting pulled over by the cops, I speak in a calm, non-threatening manner. “Hi, Mama.”
Mama growls, “Is it true?”
“What?”
Her eyes dip to my hand.
To my ring finger.
To my ring.
I slide the offending arm behind my back.
Oh.
Her lips curl in a furious scowl. “I can’t believe this!”
“Why didn’t you call, Mama? If you did, I would have explained.”
“You mean you would’ve lied?”
“Mama, how could you say that?” I pretend to be offended. Inside, I cringe. Of course I would have lied. The last thing I need is my mother finding out that I’m married and didn’t tell her.
Which seems to be exactly what happened.
Damn it.
Mama’s mouth does that trembling thing. It’s a familiar twitch that happened back when I was a teenager and she caught me sneaking out to meet a boyfriend I wasn’t supposed to have.
I wilt against the car. “Mama…”
“Did you really rush off and marry some stranger behind our backs?”
My fingers twine in my blouse. “I… we…”
Yes.
The answer is yes.
Even worse? He’s not just a stranger to my family.
He’s a stranger to me too.
A stranger with the most wounded blue eyes in history.
With no manners on a phone call.
With a secret warm side that he doesn’t broadcast.
A stranger who kisses like nobody’s business.
Mama’s eyes scan my face.
Then those brown eyes darken.
“You little…” She advances, her hand raised and her eyes blazing with violent intentions.
I run around my vehicle. “How did you find out?”
“Get back here!” Mom charges left.
I dodge right. “It was Riley, wasn’t it?” I cling to the side-mirror. “She told you!”
Mama shakes her head. “Your father coddled you. You didn’t get half the beatings you were supposed to get as a child!”
I squeal.
Run around to the other side of the truck.
Mama stops.
Assesses the situation.
Suddenly, she grabs onto the hood of the truck and heaves herself forward like she thinks she’s going to slide across.
Before she can try the ninja move, a voice yells, “Tina!”
We both stop—Mama, huffing and puffing and me, ducking for dear life. A moment later, a short man hurls himself at Mama and hugs her around the waist.
“Let me go!” she shrieks, wrestling against Dad. “She’ll learn a lesson tonight!”
“Calm down, Tina.”
The rest of my family pours out of the front door.
Aunt Becca.
Aunt Sharon.
Uncle Jeremiah.
Cousin Renesha.
Uncle Bernie.
Aunt Keke.
And a host of others.
Mama stops bucking long enough to point a trembling finger, “How could you do that to Novah? That’s your cousin!”
I massage my forehead.
Everyone coddles Novah.
And I get it.
Her father—my mother’s brother—died when she was four and that gave everyone a tender spot for her.
I’m not saying I’m jealous.
It sucks that she lost her father. I’d fall apart if I lost mine. But all the cousins know who the adults’ favorite is. It’s something we’ve learned to accept.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect to Novah. It just… happened.”
“A wedding? A whole damn wedding just ‘happened’? By magic?” Mama’s nostrils flare. She pushes my dad off. “Where is he? Where’s that Brogan-man?”
“Mama… I’m tired. Can we please not do this?”
Aunt Sharon, Novah’s mother, steps forward. “Unlike Tina, I don’t care that you got married before Novah, Elizabeth. I just wish you included us. We’re your family. That’s something we would have loved to be a part of.”
Uncle Kevin nods. “You’d think we didn’t raise you from you were this high.” He lowers his hand to a couple inches off the ground. “We haven’t even met this guy and he’s already locked you down.”
Aunt Becca gives Mama the side-eye. “We just came to congratulate you. You’re a grown woman who has the freedom to do what you want.”
Mama huffs.
“But,” Aunt Becca gives me a sad look, “I wish we could have seen you too.”
My heart pinches. I know my family—as crazy and overbearing as they are—love me to pieces. We’re a supportive bunch and I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without them in my corner cheering me on.
“Do you have somewhere to stay?” Aunt Becca asks. “You and your husband?”
“Of course they have somewhere to stay. My Elizabeth wouldn’t marry some bum who doesn’t have his finances together,” Mama snaps.
“I’m just asking,” Aunt Becca defends feistily. “I didn’t see any moving boxes in her apartment.”
“She hasn’t gotten around to it yet. That’s all.” Mama folds her arms over her chest.
Aunt Sharon gives me an inquiring look. “Why aren’t there any boxes yet? Aren’t you going to live with him?”
Every eye trains on me.
I offer a panicked, “Of course. We’re married. Where else would I live?”
“Why don’t we help you move?” Uncle Kevin asks. He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, his dreads flailing as he grins. “I’ve got my truck.”
“I’ve got boxes!” Aunt Becca says brightly.
The world shifts. “No, guys. It’s fine—”
Aunt Sharon quiets me with a look. “It’s best to get out quick. That apartment’s barely serviceable for one person.”
“And yet you manage to fit yourselves in there just fine,” I mumble.
But no one hears me.
No one’s listening.
They’re all too busy heading back inside.
To pack.
So I can move in… with my husband.
I want to curl up into a ball and cry.
What did I do to deserve this? Did my desire to bring a fake-date to my cousin’s wedding warrant this much torture?
“Elizabeth,” Dad takes my shoulders, “what’s wrong?”
I sniff. “Nothing. I just realize our family is really…”
“Caring?” Dad supplies.
“Sure.” I was going to say interfering. Meddling. Over-bearing.
But yeah, we’ll go with that.
Dad gives me a gentle look. His dark eyes beam like two black marbles in the moonlight. His thick, brown fingers are gentle on my shoulders. “Why didn’t you come to us before getting married? Why did you hide? Did you think we wouldn’t like him?”
“It’s not that...”
Mama folds her arms over her chest. Her frown is so severe I’m afraid it’ll turn permanent. “I’m very disappointed. I hope you know that.”
“I know.” I sigh.
“Now call him.” Mama tips up her chin. “Give him a warning so he knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That we’re done with the hiding, the secrecy and the lies.”
“Mama…”
She
slants me a don’t you dare talk over me look. “Tell him the Garcia clan is coming.” Her eyes narrow to two sharp slits. “And that he should be prepared.”
“Prepared for what?” I ask, my voice shaking.
She growls, “Everything.”
Fifteen
Brogan
I’m poring over a deposition when my phone rings. I absently reach for it, keeping my eyes on my notes and my fingers firm on my pen.
I wanted to dip my toe back into practicing law since I’m juggling so many personal issues right now—Steph, the take-over at Gran’s company, and my marriage to Elizabeth—but the cases are coming at me left and right.
Lucas has been spreading the word that I’m back in town.
Under usual circumstances, I’d appreciate the free advertising, but right now…
Too much is going on.
I need to decide on my future. Figure out how I’m going to handle all the responsibilities that are suddenly piled on my back. And those decisions need to be made before I establish my law firm.
The phone goes silent.
I sigh in relief.
Drag the documents closer.
Turn the page.
The whole desk vibrates as the ringing starts again.
With a sigh, I pick up the phone, checking to make sure it isn’t the hospital.
It’s not.
“Elizabeth?” I whisper, my brows knitting in confusion. She’s the last person I expected to hear from. The woman huffed, glared and danced around me all afternoon. I thought she’d ignore me until the wedding.
Curious, I answer.
“Hey.”
I hear the sound of tires rushing against the highway in the background. The tussle of the wind. The roar of an open engine.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She hesitates. “I need a teeny favor.”
“How teeny?”
“On a scale of one to ten? I’d say twenty-three.”
“What?”
“It’s just for a few days.”
“What is.”
“Just until I figure something else out.”
“Elizabeth…” I warn.
“I need to move in with you.”
My pen slips out of my hand and goes rattling across the desk.
“Also, my family is stopping by to bring my stuff as we speak.”
I leap out of my chair.
