Charade (A Fake Fiancée Romance) (Pretense and Promises Book 1)

by Jade C. Jamison

  He knew two things were part of the equation at the moment. The first was that he’d never viewed Fleming the cop as a human being before. That perspective was a skill he’d had to acquire and hone, because viewing the other side as people with feelings made him less of a shark with killer instincts. The second was pretty fucking stupid…but it was that he hated disappointing Erica. To see how disgusted she looked wrecked him.

  But throughout the night, he’d grappled with all those things and, though he was exhausted by four-thirty that morning, he knew what he had to do to make all things right. Whether or not it was too late to recapture Erica’s heart was immaterial. And whether or not his father approved didn’t matter. It was time to practice his craft in a new way—and if that didn’t fit with his firm’s goals, maybe he’d ask Gary for that corporate lawyer position.

  But, first, he had a few things to rectify…

  * * *

  Erica awoke to dreary gray skies. By the time she left her apartment, she could tell that flakes were going to start falling sometime throughout the day, but for now some kind of storm had stalled overhead and was camping out, keeping the city dark, foreboding, and gloomy—and why not? It matched the dreariness of her heart.

  But she knew what she had to do now. She put on a black pantsuit and, in spite of her mood, paired it with a pink blouse, and she arrived at work early. First, she went to Brock’s office, because she’d intended to break the news to him before anyone else—but he wasn’t there. Harriet said Brock had told her he would be in later than usual, but he wasn’t in court that day. She wasn’t sure where he was, but he was the boss, so he made the rules.

  “Can I leave something for him in his office?”

  “Of course.”

  Had Harriet known what Erica planned to leave, she might have questioned it.

  Then Erica spent the next two hours packing up her office and getting it ready for whomever would pick up where she left off. She organized the case files she’d been working on, writing long notes as to what she’d done so that any of the paralegals or other attorneys could pick up where she left off without having to backtrack or sift through information too much.

  She sipped another cup of coffee, gazing out her third-story window to see the first few flakes falling from the fluffy clouds hanging low. Once her cup was drained, she headed to Brock’s office one last time in hopes of catching him, but he still wasn’t there. She sent him a text then, letting him know that she was giving her notice and, since he wasn’t around, she was going to give it to his dad. She’d wanted him to be a part of it but she wasn’t going to wait all day.

  She’d made up her mind and now it was time to act.

  As an afterthought, she added, I hope things work out for you, your family, and the future of the firm, but I can no longer work for you. I’m leaving the ring on your desk.

  She was past judging or examining, but she needed to do something for her life for good—and she now knew that Ford & Associates was not the place for it, so it was time to move on. What came next in her life? She didn’t know. She was pretty sure she wanted to keep her apartment, stay in the big city, do good things here, but her job was going to be elsewhere.

  Dropping the cell phone in her purse that sat in the big bottom drawer of her desk, she stood, smoothing back her hair, and then grabbed the folded piece of paper off her desk before walking into the big hallway. Brady Ford’s office was to the right at the end of the hall, taking up most of that side of the building. She’d never been in there but had heard rumors and, after sitting in Bret’s office many a time and dropping her jaw at the expanse, she had no idea what to expect from Daddy Ford’s office. Hell, she didn’t even know if he would see her—but it was a chance she had to take. She’d fretted and considered talking to Bret, her old boss, but finally decided that only the guy in charge of the whole shebang would do. It didn’t matter that he was giving up the reins sometime in the near future. He was the big guy right now and so he was the man she needed to speak with.

  The man’s secretary was probably considering retirement as well, Erica thought as she approached the woman with the giant desk, computer, and old-fashioned typewriter tucked on a side table. However, the woman knew her own importance and she eyed Erica over the top of her glasses as if scrutinizing everything about her.

  Talk about feeling like you were under a magnifying glass…

  “Can I help you?”

  Why this woman intimidated Erica, she didn’t know. All she could figure was it was because she was nervous about what she was about to do. But she mustered up every last bit of confidence she felt before opening her mouth. “I wondered if I could talk with Mr. Ford for a few moments.”

  His secretary arched an eyebrow. “Do you have an appointment?”

  Of course—because, if she’d learned anything from Brock over the past couple of months, it was that time was money. The time she would take with Brady Ford would not be billable—and, therefore, not important, according to the firm’s standards. “It won’t take much time, but—”

  Bret opened the door to his father’s office from the inside, dark brown coffee mug in hand, and said, “Erica, what a pleasant surprise. Ever since Brock stole you away from me, I’ve hardly gotten to see you.”

  What? Was this her former boss? Had he ever treated her this warmly before?

  She forced herself to smile and said, “I know. It’s been a while.”

  “So what are you doing in this neck of the woods?”

  Ha. So she wasn’t going to have to go through the gatekeeper—if she was lucky. “I was hoping to talk to your father for a few minutes.”

  “What about? Anything I can help with?”

  Might as well be honest. “Um…my future with the firm…and the wedding.”

  Bret raised his eyebrows and got a clue. Nodding, he said, “I think that can be arranged. Mind if I sit in, considering dad’s handing the firm over to us soon?”

  “No, that’s fine,” especially if it meant she’d get the audience now.

  Bret peeked his head in the door. “Dad, got a few more minutes?”

  “Yes, son.”

  Opening the door farther, he said, “Erica is here to see us.”

  “Ah, Erica. So nice to see you,” the elder Ford said, standing up, his hands outstretched to greet her. “If only all my daughters-in-law wished to practice law. What a firm we’d have.”

  Well…he was in for a major disappointment.

  “Please…have a seat.” Erica was pretty sure the secretary was possibly seething now because not only did she get an audience with Mr. Ford, but she got a front row seat, and the man didn’t seem to be in any huge hurry to get her out of there.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t feel up to visiting for too terribly long. Brady Ford, looking like a sweet and kindly man she might see in the park hunting around for a chess partner—except in a suit and tie instead of a sweater and jaunty cap—said, “What can I do for you today?”

  Erica inhaled a deep breath, as if to fortify herself, and then she blew it out. Bret, a joking tone in his voice, noticed and said, “That sounds pretty serious.”

  Erica nodded. “Actually, it kind of is.” How could she word this so that she could keep her end of the bargain—of keeping her supposed fiancé’s secret safe? Just because Brock had no integrity didn’t mean she didn’t. Yes, she’d participated in the deception of his family but now she regretted it, because—overall, in spite of their foibles and despite her own distrust of wealthy folks—they seemed like decent enough people. And, while she thought making sure every client had a decent attorney who worked hard for them was a noble idea, Brock had seemed to cross a line somewhere and she wasn’t sure where that was. In a way, that was frightening, and she didn’t want to start sliding down that slippery slope. Erica most definitely knew the kind of lawyer she wanted to be—and Brock wasn’t teaching her that.

  And, although she knew they’d let her, she definitely didn’t want to go back
to doing nothing but research. Ugh.

  “I’m not sure where to start…except to say that I don’t think my employment here with Ford & Associates is working out.”

  The elder Mr. Ford asked, “Why not? Is there something that’s not working for you?”

  “Well—”

  “We can’t afford to lose a mind as sharp as yours. If you’re concerned about any wayward accusations of nepotism, we can quash them. In fact, we can completely separate you and Brock so as to avoid even the appearance of any type of favoritism.”

  “I appreciate that, sir, but that’s not all of it.”

  “Oh?”

  Bret had hardly spoken a word, but he was definitely rapt in her words.

  “Uh…about Brock…”

  And what would she even say about him?

  “Brock is—”

  The intercom buzzed and Mr. Ford said, “I’m sorry. One moment.”

  He pushed on a button and the hollow sounding voice came through the speakers. “Brock said he needs to speak with—wait!”

  His secretary’s voice continued, wavering between yelling and trying to stay calm, as Brock himself burst through the door, also not waiting for the almighty gatekeeper secretary to hand him the key.

  Brady raised both eyebrows and crossed his hands in front of him on the desk. Erica couldn’t help but notice an amused twinkle in the older man’s eyes. “Ah, my son. Why do I get the feeling you know why your fiancée is here?”

  Brock barely looked at his father and then Bret, as if his eyes could apologize—but that was exactly what he was trying to do. “Erica, I just need five minutes before you do anything rash.”

  “Too late.”

  “No, it’s not too late. You’re not out the door yet…so, please, give me five minutes.”

  Giving him what he asked for was a stupid idea—and yet she felt compelled by this charismatic devilish man. She sighed and then said, “Fine—but no playing Mr. Defense Attorney with me. You try it once and I’m out of here.”

  His genuine eyes quelled her suspicions. “Last night…what you said really resonated with me. You shined a harsh light inside my soul, Erica, exposing all my demons, all my dark secrets—and it was ugly. Sometimes, I’m too good at my job and it’s at the expense of others.

  “So when I got up this morning, I did a little research—and instead of coming to the office, I met Judd Fleming.” Erica raised her eyebrows but let him continue talking. “Like your friend said last night, he’s working a desk at the PD—and, at first, he refused to see me, but I managed to meet with him. He still had a lot of anger—toward me—but we had a long talk and, whether he forgave me or not, I apologized.”

  Erica wasn’t convinced nor impressed. “Good for you. Your karma score is no doubt better.” She took a deep breath before adding, “And how do we know you’re not just saying that? We have no way to verify your claims.”

  Brock’s classic smirk lit up his face. Dammit, he was still so good looking, it made her stomach muscles clench. “Actually, you do. See, Judd and I went out for breakfast, and I felt so bad, like I’d ruined the man…but somehow we moved past all the anger and frustration and just talked like two men resolving a grievance should—and I wound up hiring him to be a full-time investigator for Ford & Associates.”

  That was when Brock’s father stepped in. “Wait a minute, son. You didn’t consult your brothers or me before making this decision.”

  Brock turned and said, “Dad, we’ve contracted out for as long as I can remember, essentially paying piece rate to whatever guy we could find to do the job. If you’ve got someone on salary, they can do whatever you need whenever you need it. You’re getting ready to hand the firm over to us, so I made an executive decision based upon the future needs of the firm.” He took a breath, radiating confidence. “If you still disagree, I’ll pay him out of my own pocket.”

  After a long pause, Brady Ford smiled, the crinkles beside his eyes deepening before he chuckled. “Ah, a decision maker. I respect that, son. Being able to make decisions for the good of the firm is part of why I ultimately broke away and hung my own shingle all those years ago. I trust your judgment. Why don’t we put him on the payroll next week?”

  “I thought you’d say that—but he needs more time than that. Two weeks’ notice to the department before he comes over here.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  Well, all this familial bonding and ass kissing was nice, but Erica had made a decision and it was time to get out of here. “Brock, I’m glad you’ve finally had a pang of conscience, and I hope it stays with you as you continue practicing law. But I was just tendering my resignation to your father.”

  “But why, Erica? If it’s just because of me…I’m a good man, Erica. I just made a bad decision or two…but you’ve made me realize I can do my job and still do what’s right.”

  “Good for you, Brock. But I—”

  He must have known she was going to tell him she was “breaking up” with him—but if he wanted to handle it instead, that was fine. This was his game, his ruse, and he was the one who had to live with his family when it was all over. So long as she could leave unscathed, she would leave quietly.

  Brock got down on a knee again, like he had at his father’s retirement gala over a month ago, but instead of looking at Erica, he turned his head to talk to his father and brother. “I have a bit of a confession to make. A couple of months ago, I convinced Erica to pretend to be my fiancée, because I thought it would help my chances of being a full partner in the firm when you retired, dad—all your speeches about being a family man sunk in with us, and not only hadn’t I found the right woman, but I wasn’t ready to settle down.”

  He turned to Erica then. “But the past several weeks with you have opened my eyes and changed my mind. You, Erica Larson, are funny, sweet, intelligent—and you challenge me like no other woman ever has. I would be a damn idiot to let you go.”

  Erica felt her heart swell and her eyes fill as his words flooded her heart…because that meant he loved her back. It was something she’d shut herself off from this morning but, hearing his words, she let the walls inside her heart fall down and absorb all he was saying.

  Before she could answer, he turned his head to his father again. “I was being deceptive and dishonest. I lied to you…and so if that means you no longer want me here at Ford & Associates, I’ll go somewhere else.” He swallowed but kept talking before either his father or oldest brother could speak. “After finding Erica, this work doesn’t hold the fascination for me that it once did. Do I want to continue practicing law? Yes, of course, but now it all pales in comparison.” He turned to her once more. “Go if you must. Leave if you can’t find a place in your heart for me—but go knowing I love you and want you in my life.”

  How the hell could any woman say no to that? “Oh, Brock…”

  “I’m taking that as a yes,” he said, taking her left hand and sliding the ring back on her finger. Erica looked down at the glittery jewelry, loving it all the more now, because now it felt like it belonged. When she looked up into Brock’s eyes, he stroked her cheek and then kissed her.

  It was more magical than ever.

  Then Brock stood, Erica’s hand in his, and she joined him. He said to his father, “I understand if you need me to leave, dad, but don’t make her go. She’s a brilliant—”

  Brady Ford began laughing then, an infectious hearty chortle that had them all chuckling before he spoke. “Son, you’ve always been good with sleight of hand, and you’re an expert when it comes to making people see things the way you want them to. It’s what’s made you not just a skillful defense attorney but a strong litigator in general.

  “You know my philosophies about marriage and how it makes you a better lawyer, yes, but I wanted to give my firm to all my sons, married or not.” Brady looked at Erica then and said, “But you would be a damn fool to let this young lady go. You might have just figured out you’re in love with her, but the rest of us have
seen it all along. I think you’re perfect for my son, Ms. Larson, and I would be proud to call you my daughter-in-law—and one of the brightest attorneys at my firm.”

  That Bret also smiled and nodded told Erica everything she needed to know. She was part of the family—all she had to do was say yes.

  So she did.

  And Brock kissed her again, holding her close.

  When they left his father’s office, though, his arm around her waist, she needed to be absolutely certain. Away from any stray ears, she whispered, “This is real, right? We’re not continuing this charade…we’re really engaged?”

  Brock started laughing and picked her up in his arms so that her feet no longer touched the ground, twirling her around. “Yes, I really want you to be my wife. You gave me a real yes, didn’t you?”

  She smiled then and touched her nose to his. “Yes. I love you, Brock.”

  “I love you, too, Erica. And even though I wasn’t able to prepare the most eloquent argument for your hand that I’m capable of, I hope you believe it.”

  “I do—with all my heart.” And it wouldn’t be long before she said I do once more, this time for forever.

  Epilogue

  “WHAT’S THE TEMPERATURE there right now, dad?”

  “You don’t really want to know, do you?”

  Erica’s mother chimed in. “It’s two degrees here.”

  Brock smiled as he walked through the door, hearing his new bride on a Skype conversation with her parents. “What about you? What’s the temperature there?”

  “Last I checked, it was in the mid-seventies.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” her dad teased.

  “You’re just jealous,” her mother said, and Brock entered the bedroom area of their suite, bag in one hand, paper cup in the other.

  Erica looked up from the laptop sitting on the coffee table and gazed into his eyes. He would swear this woman had become more beautiful since he’d proposed for real. She was more than a sight for sore eyes—she’d become his whole world, and nothing would ever be the same. And that was a good thing.