I looked away.
Jealousy coursed through my veins, and I didn’t know why. I had to let that go. We weren’t in a real relationship. It was fake. Everything was fake. The make-out session on the couch had been because of alcohol and loneliness and nothing else. I needed to tone things down.
I needed to not get upset.
Telling myself that didn’t seem to change anything, though. Instead, I stood in the back, throwing my attention into the work and seething. I felt protective and hurt. I wanted to rush out there and kiss her right there in front of that customer. To claim her.
My thoughts were interrupted by cutting my finger, and I cursed loudly. All the onions I had just cut needed to be tossed as there was blood on the cutting board, and I rushed over to the sink to wash it off. Grumbling, I decided that I just needed to keep to myself that night and cool off before I lopped off a body part.
The rest of the evening went pretty smoothly with service being easy enough and customers not being too picky about their food or sending it back. Usually as the night went on, I got less of that as we went more from restaurant to bar and the alcohol increased tolerance for an errant pickle or their burger being ever so slightly pinker than they wanted it.
I was just about done with the kitchen, since we closed it an hour before the last call, and my line chef was handling all the closing duties anyway. That meant that as soon as I plated the last plate of mozzarella sticks, I was done. I grabbed the handle of the fryer basket and dumped them onto paper towels to soak and was grabbing a plate when I heard my phone ringing. Considering the late hour, I rushed to it, wondering who would need me.
It was Tom.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone hurriedly.
“Matt, hey,” Tom said. He sounded tipsy. For Tom that was rare. What the hell was going on?
“Tom, what’s up? You usually don’t make calls this late.”
“I was still up,” he said. “Busy planning Mom’s party.”
Shit. That was the upcoming weekend. Just days away. The entire reason I was doing the fake marriage with Chloe was to avoid Mom’s insanity. Now I had just a few days to get everything set and done and get over my jealousy issues with seeing her do what we agreed we could do. I had to invite her. I had to bring her and show her off and pretend everything was perfect.
Then I had to tone things down.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m excited.”
“I bet you are,” he said. “I heard you were seeing someone. Might bring them.”
“Yup,” I said, dumping the mozzarella sticks onto a plate with a ramekin of marinara sauce and hitting the bell.
“Well, just make sure she comes. Amanda is dying to meet her. She thought you’d never get married.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, no, not like that,” he slurred. He must have had a hell of a party. Tom was never like that. “She just thought you weren’t planning on ever settling down. We’re happy about it.”
“Good,” I said. “Look, I have to close the kitchen. I’ll see you this weekend.”
“Alright, buddy,” Tom said. “See you then. Tell Jordan and Hannah I said hello.”
“Will do.”
With the call over, I sighed and put the phone back in my pocket. I needed to let Chloe know we were a go and that everything that happened last night was okay. We needed to be on the same page. Usually, right at last call, after the last of the drinks were served, the waitresses would take a small break. I saw them filing past the kitchen for the door outside and poked my head out as she came by.
“Hey, babe,” I said, getting a look from Hannah as I did. “Can you talk to me in the office for a sec?”
“No hanky-panky in the office,” Hannah called out as she went outside.
“No promises,” Chloe shouted back at her, and we went in. I shut the door behind her as she sat down on the desk. When I turned to look at her, any anger or resentment I had still was gone. She was so freaking hot, and the way she sat on the desk, her hands behind her, holding her up and her ankles crossed, was adorable. I just wanted to pull her into me and kiss her right then.
“So,” I said.
“So,” she repeated. “About last night.”
“No, I didn’t call you in to talk about that,” I said. “Not specifically. I mean, partially.” I grunted with frustration. “Look, you were a hundred percent right last night. We can’t get too carried away. It will make things messy when it’s time to end it.” She nodded. “But we have our first real challenge. My Mom’s birthday is coming up, and her party is this weekend. Everyone wants to meet you. “
“Won’t it be weird to meet your mom at her birthday party?” she asked. “That seems awfully familiar.”
“Not really,” I said. “She is a very, extraordinary welcoming person, especially to women her kids bring home. I am more concerned about you being comfortable since she will inevitably ask about grandchildren.”
“I’m fine with that,” she said. “It begs the question, though, how do we feel about children?”
Her lips were full and pink, and I wanted to press mine against them. Just talking about our fake relationship as if it were real was enough to clench my stomach and make my cock twitch. I busied myself with sitting down on the chair by the desk, but that just brought me in range of her intoxicating perfume and within inches of her legs. Legs I wanted to pull apart and wrap around me.
“Avoid the subject,” I said. “Like the plague. The worst thing for Mom after all this is over is the imaginary grandchildren she would have had that she will feel robbed of. The less we feed into it, the easier it will be when we eventually split up.”
An expression crossed her face that looked like an attempt to smile that still somehow was sad. She looked away.
“Alright then,” she said. “I’m game if you are. I think we can handle that test. We’ve been doing great with Hannah and Jordan, I think we can snowball a few other people, too.”
“I think so.”
“It helps that you are a really great kisser,” she said, and I stopped cold. A smile stretched across my lips.
“Really?”
“Yes,” she said. “Makes faking things a lot easier. Now, cheer up. You look gloomy today. I’m going to go get a water and join Hannah on the porch. Want to come?”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I’m going to help clean the kitchen so we can both get out of here on time.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, hopping off the desk. She opened the door, and Jordan was walking by. He saw us and waved. “Going on break, babe,” she said as she approached the door. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. It took everything I had not to pull her right back into the office and rip her clothes off. Instead, she left me, and I stood in the doorway, more confused than ever.
16
Chloe
I was terrified. I was trying not to be, or at least not to act like it, but my nerves were all over the place. Getting dressed was an exercise in my own patience and anxiety as I tossed outfit after outfit onto the bed, cycling through them until I found one that I felt was cute but not too exposing, fun but not too whimsical. It took forever.
For his part, Matt was patient, bringing me coffee and being the judge as I modeled everything and immediately rejected anything he said. Hannah was with Jordan, getting ready herself, and the nanny was with Claire, so he helped me pack some things up while I debated various outfits, and when I finally picked one, we were ready to roll. Only an hour late.
Jordan, Hannah, and Claire had already left, taking their own car to head to Astoria. It wasn’t like Matt didn’t know where to go. He didn’t seem rushed, though, nor did he seem like he was particularly nervous. While I knew it was his mother, the fact that we were creating this entire ruse and trying to pretend seemed like it would be more of a stressor for him. But he seemed unbothered, and as we got into the car and on the road, I tried to distract myself by babbling about anything and everything that cam
e to mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, interrupting me in the middle of a rant about the various names of cities that I thought sounded too similar to sexual innuendo.
“I’m just nervous. Like, super nervous.”
“Don’t worry,” Matt said, “it’s going to be great. You are going to be great.”
“I hope so,” I said. “I just don’t want to make a bad impression and ruin everything.”
“You won’t,” he said, grinning. “She’s going to love you.”
“Really?” I asked. “Why? What about me could she like? I’m a spoiled rich girl from LA who impulsively moved to Portland and immediately shacked up with the first guy who caught my eye.”
“I caught your eye, eh?” There was something in the tone of his voice that was more than a joke.
“Of course you did. Have you looking in a mirror lately?”
Matt made an acknowledging sound but didn’t say anything else. I fell into my own silence, trying to occupy my mind by watching the scenery. Eventually, Matt turned up the radio, and we fell into a more comfortable quiet as the eighties’ music filled with me with a bit more bubblegum optimism than I thought might be healthy. Maybe it would be okay.
Astoria, it turned out, was a small town. At least compared to Portland, it was tiny. Compared to LA, it was like a speck of dust. But it was cute, and I kept my eyes open to take it all in as we left the highway and pulled into town. Matt pointed out a few sights before turning down a busier street. I followed his point to look out my side of the car and had to do a double-take. It looked exactly like the bar in Portland, only a little smaller.
“No way,” I said. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” Matt said. “Mom only lives a few streets down. I just thought you’d like to see that before we got there.”
“It’s amazing. It looks just like our bar!”
Matt grinned and continued down the street, eventually turning in to a neighborhood. A couple more turns and he pulled up to a lovely house. There were cars filling the driveway, so he parked on the street nearby and shut off the engine. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
“We’re here,” he said. “You’re going to be fine.”
I nodded and grasped the door handle.
“Let’s do this… honey.”
Matt smiled wide and hopped out of the car, swinging around to hold the door open for me and shut it when I was out. I reached out and took his hand, and we made our way down the sidewalk toward the house. I caught our reflection in the glass door on the front and was struck by how good we looked together. I leaned my head against his arm for a moment, if nothing other than to just see what it looked like, and the wooden door inside opened.
“Matthew!” the woman on the inside said, then turned to me. “And you must be Chloe!”
Before I could speak, I was wrapped in a hug from the tiny woman with such powerful arms I could barely breathe. I was smothered by her, and it was an incredibly moving moment. My own mother never hugged me like that. There was a force to that hug, a claim in it. She was protecting me and offering to continue to protect me with that embrace. The smell of the lavender perfume and lingering scent of cut onions and roasted meat filled my senses. I closed my eyes and felt myself smile.
“I am so glad to meet you,” she said, still holding me. When she broke the embrace, she pulled me to arm’s length and looked me up and down. “My goodness, you are more beautiful than my children described. Come on in, let’s get you some wine.”
I turned my head to look at Matt as his mother hooked my arm and began to pull me inside. He shrugged, grinning, and followed us. Turning back to look around, I fell in love with the house immediately. It was small and cozy and full of knick-knacks and wicker and old, heavy wooden bookcases.
It was what every image I always held in my heart of what a family could be was. I could imagine rambunctious boys running through the halls, disappearing down the stairs that led to what I guessed was a basement. Somewhere they could be loud and silly.
Mrs. Anderson guided me into the kitchen, which was full of women. Hannah was there and gave me an excited smile as her shoulders raised. I recognized Becca and Ava from pictures, and Amanda darted out of the room as I came in, chasing a small child. I’d seen her on the photo of the old bar, cozied up to Tom. The whole crew had signed the picture, which showed them on their first theme night.
“Hi, everybody,” I said. “I’m Chloe.”
A wall of sound met me as they all started talking at once. Hugs and congratulations and laughter met me from every direction. A very, very full glass of wine appeared in my hand, and I tried to gain my bearings. Hannah guided me to sit at a little kitchen table, and she joined me to one side, giving me something to anchor the world by. Matt was missing, gone to the living room.
The excitement was incredible, and the love that I was being shown was full. I suddenly felt bad for lying to them. I had to shake it off, though. I had to play the part. In for a penny, in for a pound.
Matt poked his head around the corner, and I felt my heart flutter when I saw him. Whether I was falling deep into the act or something else was going on, I wasn’t prepared to explore. He looked around until he saw me and then grinned before looking back to his mother.
“May I?” he asked.
“The boys know they have to keep out of the kitchen,” Hannah said. “It’s a Mama rule. Unless she invites them, or they are helping her cook or clean up, they stay out of her domain. The girls on the other hand…”
“Come on in,” Mrs. Anderson said, and he came to me, kissing me on the top of the head. Mrs. Anderson was busy stirring something in a pot that smelled amazing, but she stopped, seeing that out of the corner of her eye apparently, and turned. Both hands went to her hips, and the wooden spoon stuck out and hit the stove.
“What?” Matt asked.
“Don’t you what me,” she scolded. “Where have you been hiding her? Why have you been hiding her?”
“We just wanted to keep things quiet for a bit, before we let other people know about us,” he said. “Didn’t want to move things too fast.”
“Well, as your mother, I would have appreciated a heads-up,” she said. “You can call me at any time, you know.”
“I know, Mama,” he said. “That being said, I guess we should tell you something else.” He looked at me and winked. “Chloe’s going to move in with me.”
“Oh, wow,” his mother said and smiled wide. “So, this is serious, then.”
“As a heart attack,” he said.
Dinner was going really well, and the wine was flowing easily. I felt like everyone was being extremely accepting and welcoming, and none of it felt fake. The lauded Tom, who owned the bars, was nice and funny in his own way, even if he was a little stuffy. Tyler was a trip and kept cracking jokes at Tom’s expense. Both Amanda and Becca seemed close, along with Ava, Mason’s wife, and they kept plying me with more alcohol as the night went on, including me in gossip. Mason spent a lot of his time playing with the kids, and when Matt joined him for a bit, I found myself staring as I watched him with them.
He was so good with children. A natural at it. He was able to see the same imaginary bad guys they did and understand the rules of whatever game they were making up as they went along. They climbed on him like a walking playground, and he did voices and played right back.
Hannah, seeing me alone for the first time in the evening, scooted over beside me into the place where Matt had been sitting. She turned fully toward me and lowered her voice so only I could hear her.
“So, moving in together?” she asked.
“Yup.”
“Don’t you think that maybe that’s a little fast? Are you sure you want that right now?” she asked.
“Well, you guys are moving soon, and you really don’t have space for a full-grown adult with their own life, and nor should you. I should either have my own place or room with someone. It just so happens that things with Matt and I
are going so well, that there’s really no reason not to move in together.”
“That’s a whole lot of words for ‘I have no idea what I am doing, cuz,’” she said.
“That’s not true,” I countered. “Things are good. Really good. I could move my stuff in with him, and you guys wouldn’t have to worry about making a place for me at the new house. Just make it the guest room like you had it before I came.”
There was a small pause as she examined my face.
“Alright,” she said. “But listen to me. If for any reason you feel like you need a place to go, you come to me, understand? I know Jordan and Matt are brothers, but you will be safe with me no matter what, okay?”
“Got it,” I said. “But it won’t be necessary. I think I found my one, Hannah,” I said. As the words came out of my mouth, they felt awfully true. I had to squeeze that thought out of my brain. This was an arrangement.
Nothing more.
17
Matt
Dinner at Mom’s went extremely well. By the time I piled Chloe into the car, she had made fast friends with Mom and my brothers’ wives and had enough wine in her that the ride home was going to be quiet and calm. Sure enough, she was asleep before I even got us out of Astoria, and I turned the radio low so I didn’t disturb her. At the last stop before the highway, I reached behind me and grabbed the blanket I always kept in the car and put it over her. She smiled in her sleep and curled up in the seat.
When I got us back to Portland, I pulled into my apartment and helped her inside. Rather than take her back to Hannah and Jordan’s late and with her in her current sleepy-tipsy state, I figured I could kill two birds with one stone and make sure she got some rest. Bringing her inside, I laid her down in the bed in the guest room and tucked her in. Then, a smile on my face, I went to bed and passed out, falling asleep in minutes and having a deep, restful, and dreamless sleep.
The Marriage Contract Page 9
