by Jamie Knight
“How did you know?” Hayley asked, seemingly mystified.
“Lucky guess,” I said with a shrug.
With a Tupperware of her cookies under my arm, we went back out to my Hummer and got in. We couldn’t have been more synchronized if we had practiced it. Something that gave me hope for our upcoming plot at the wedding.
“Where are we heading to eat and plot?” Hayley asked.
“I chose the last place, it’s your turn,” I said.
“How democratic!”
“I do my best.”
“Do you know a place called Mama Dee’s?”
“In Echo Park?” I asked, not having heard that name for a while.
“That’s the one,” Hayley said.
“Yeah, of course,” I said.
“Really?”
“Sure, I grew up there.”
“You didn’t!”
“I remember it fairly clearly,” I said.
“You grew up in Echo Park?”
“Yeah.”
“In the ‘70s?”
“Indeed.”
“Wasn’t that -”
“Gang territory, yeah. I lived in the Head Hunters area.”
“Wasn’t it scary?” Hayley asked.
“Not as scary as Iraq,” I observed.
“No, I guess not, but still, how did you cope?”
“It’s easy when it is what you are used to,” I explained.
“I can see that,” she said.
“Where do you and Jacob grow up?” I asked.
“Burbank.”
“That would explain it,” I said. “First time in the big scary city?”
“Pretty much, yeah. I never even really visited before. I spent most of my life on a cul-de-sac.”
“Jacob too?”
“Yeah.”
“That makes sense, I suppose,” I said.
“What does?”
“What happened to him. There are lots of things that go into different reactions, but if you take someone from a pretty much-sheltered background and throw them into the middle of a war zone, it is not surprising if something goes wrong. I would honestly be more surprised if it didn’t.”
“Why didn’t it affect you?” Hayley asked.
“I heard gunshots since I was born,” I said, putting the Hummer into gear.
I knew exactly how to get to Mama Dee’s stopping there every day after school for a milkshake. We didn’t have much money at the time, so I paid when I could and when I couldn’t, she would either let it go or when I was old enough to work, have me work it off washing dishes in the kitchen. Something that rarely took more than an hour. I was glad to do it. Better than not getting the milkshakes at all. They really were that good.
Soon after I had made my first million, I had heard that Mama Dee’s was in danger of closing, so I gave her the money to keep it going. Mama Dee had since retired, leaving the restaurant to her daughter, who kept the place going, still under the Mama Dee’s name.
While the evening rush hour was still going, we managed to get to the restaurant before the dinner rush had really kicked off. The lot was pretty much empty despite the open sign being posted. A truly rare sight, particularly since the area had started gentrifying. Young hipsters wanting to slum it flocking to the authentic ghetto diner. I really wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but overall was glad that the place would survive, especially in the family.
“I guess you know about the milkshake,” Hayley said, as we approached the door.
“Yes,” I said, not letting on how much of an understatement this was.
We slid into the best booth, which we somehow agreed on without talking it over beforehand, and there was no way she could have seen where I had scratched my name into the raw wood of the underside.
“What can I get you?” the server asked, appearing almost as soon as we sat down.
“Two milkshakes and two pieces of pie,” Hayley and I said in unison.
“So, four?” asked the befuddled server.
“No, two, as in one each,” I explained, Hayley still being too busy laughing to say anything.
“Ah, got it, right away, Mr. Adams,” the server said, jotting it down.
“Wow, they do know you here,” Hayley said.
“I suppose,” I said.
“So, how do you want to go about this fake fiancée thing?” Hayley asked, seeming to sense my discomfort.
“Well, that’s what I thought we could go over. It is impossible that we have the same story in our heads and can match them.”
“Makes sense,” she said.
“Okay, so I’ve been out of the army for three years, so we need to have met sometime between my discharge and now.”
“Won’t your friend wonder why you never told him about me?”
“Maybe, but he knows me well enough to know that I keep to myself, though that is a good point. It is probably better if we met fairly recently.”
“Is six months too quick?”
“Maybe a bit, but I can work with that,” I said.
“Okay, good, how did we meet?”
“How about the truth?” I asked.
“The truth?”
“Yeah, you know. You were working for Ann at the law office, and I came in to discuss a legal issue with her, and we happened to meet in her office. Not all that strange with me being her client and you being her aid.”
“No seems about right,” Hayley said.
“Romantic even. Not quite love at first sight but something similar,” I said.
“Yeah, actually,” she said, thinking it over.
“How did I propose?” I asked.
“At a restaurant,” Hayley said, “we were just finishing dessert when you got down on your knee and asked me.”
“Ring?”
“What do you mean?”
“What kind of ring?” I asked.
“I’ve got a really nice sapphire I got from my mom when I graduated,” she said.
“Perfect, start wearing it, at least around the office,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, seeming to be happy with that.
“What else?” I asked, leaving the next thing up to her.
“How’s our sex life?” she asked, blushing slightly.
“Is that likely to come up?” I asked. The booth we were sitting in suddenly seemed too small.
“It might, it is better to know in case it does. Better to be prepared, I think.”
“Agreed,” I said, looking to see if our milkshakes would be showing up anytime soon.
“So, what’s going on there?”
“Like how?”
“Like how many times do we, you know, do it?” she asked.
“Three times a day?” I suggested. I couldn’t help it. I raised one eyebrow as I looked at her.
“Golly!” Hayley turned bright red and giggled. It was adorable.
“A quickie in the morning, once after work and once before we go to sleep,” I explained.
“Make sense, actually,” she said. “We are supposed to be in love.”
“I know, I ran the math,” I said with a wink.
“And are you, um -”
“Endowed?” I asked.
“Sure,” she said.
“Do you really want to know?”
“Yes, that is, i-it might be, um, i-important.”
“Okay, but only because you stammered, which is adorable,” I said.
Using my hands, I showed her exactly how long my cock was when hard. I honestly thought she might faint.
Just then, the server came back with our orders, and this seemed to perk Hayley up considerably.
“Fuck,” she whispered after the first sip of her shake.
“I know, right?” I asked.
“Oh, damn.”
“What?”
“I don’t know your parent’s names. That’s even more likely to come up than how many tim
es we fuck,” she said.
“Fair point, their names were Mary and John,” I said.
“Were?”
“They both died in a car crash when I was deployed,” I said.
“That’s awful!”
“I know.”
“Yeah, of course,” she said, catching herself.
“What about you?” I asked.
“Both parents alive and still married,” she said.
“Lucky,” I said, meaning it.
“Don’t I know it,” she said.
“What are their names?” I asked.
“Sara and Joel.”
“Jewish?” I asked.
“Not that I know of,” she said.
“Ah.”
“Would that be a problem?”
“Oh, no, not at all, just curious, that’s all,” I said.
“Mom is a teacher, and Dad is an accountant,” she volunteered.
“Useful,” I said.
“Any tattoos?” Hayley asked, taking an obvious stare at all of my body.
“I was in the army, what do you think?”
“What and where?” she asked. Her gaze got more intense, and I wanted to show her.
“Curiosity?” I asked.
“Honestly, yes.”
“It’s okay, I have an ace of spades on my shoulder and a pi on my thigh,” I said.
“A pie?” Hayley asked, confused.
“Pi, as in the mathematical equation no one can solve. I’m a bit of a math nerd, and I like the idea of infinity.”
“Cool.”
“Thanks.”
“And the ace is what?”
“Death?”
“What?”
“The ace of spades represents death, at least while you are doing a tarot reading using regular playing cards. It was a reminder that death was always at my side and to never forget it or take it for granted. It helped keep me alive,” I explained.
“Wow.”
“I also really like Motörhead,” I added on, somewhat mitigating the effect.
“Math and Motörhead,” Hayley said, “you really are an odd and wonderful man.”
“Thanks,” I said, “you’re pretty cool yourself.”
“You don’t know me,” she pointed out.
“Not yet, but I’m getting there.”
Hayley sat back in her seat. She raised her eyebrows. “Do you like what you see?” she asked, coyly playing with the stem of her glass.
“So far, very much,” I admitted.
She giggled. “Good, I mean if we are going to be getting married.”
“Right,” I said, not sure if she was kidding or not.
Her expression and tone were impossible to read. A rare occurrence for me. What was not in doubt in any way was the strong, nearly radiant warmth I could feel coming off of her. Warmth, I desperately wanted closer to me.
Chapter Ten - Hayley
We had been a fake couple for nearly a week. Though it didn't feel that fake to me. My time with Liam was the closest thing to a relationship I had ever had. Logically, I knew that I shouldn’t see it for more than what it was — a business arrangement — but I just couldn’t help myself.
Things in my life were looking up — and it was all thanks to Liam. Not only because of the money. My parents had done okay, and Ann paid me fairly, but Liam had started giving me more money than I had ever seen at once. According to him, it was to get me ready to be his fake fiancée, but it seemed to be a bit too much, even for that.
In the nearly a week, we were pretending to be a couple, he had barely touched me, aside from the occasional handholding and kisses on the cheek in the context of masterfully planned public displays of affection to try and really sell the story. He clearly thought I was pretty, or he wouldn't have chosen me for the assignment, but he had kept things strictly professional, which I suppose was both good and bad. It made me feel a bit better about the deception and less like a whore.
On the other hand, I really wanted to have more than we did. I wanted him to fuck me. Not just a one-off either. It was crazy in the harsh light of day. We had set clear lines but the more time I spent with Liam, the more I wanted to cross them. I was really beginning to see a future with him. If only I knew whether or not he actually felt the same or was putting on an act.
I didn't really know what to do with all the money. I had learned how to get by with a quarter that much and felt like I was doing fine. It can be a shock getting more money than you ever thought you would have. Rather than being liberating as is so often assumed, it can actually be really paralyzing. Not only is there the fear of losing it all, but the special kind of crisis that can only come with a choice. The age-old paradox of being able to do anything so you end up doing nothing. It was a bit of an exaggeration in my case. I still didn't quite have do-anything money and I certainly didn't fool myself into thinking it would last, but I felt something similar to a crisis of choice. Then it hit me. I should use the money he was giving me to feel better with myself, starting with my looks.
It wasn't the kind of place I would usually go to. Not because of the price, I just can never quite justify the expense to the thrifty part of my brain. The one that sees anything that isn’t starkly utilitarian as a waste and something to be avoided. Except now, it isn’t a waste. I could easily afford it, and it was going towards an established cause. Looking good for the wedding.
The salon I decided to try was beautiful, every detail coming together into the overall aesthetic. It was clear that someone really cared. Either the place was run by the owner, which still happened with such places, or they hired a particularly serious and passionate manager to oversee things.
I was put with a stylist whose name was Gwen. Of course, it was. She actually looked like a Gwen. She looked a bit skeptical when I first showed her the style in the sample book they had, but she didn't say anything. One of the perks of the price was that it included both a professional shampooing with the highest grade of products, as well as a scalp massage. I was nearly jelly by the time I get into the chair to do the deed.
It really was amazing what a new hairstyle could do for your confidence. With the long-layered cut, I actually felt better, cooler, sexier and started to come out of my shell. Everyone at work noticed. Particularly Ann and Vicky who I guess knew me the best because they were around me the most. They actually invited me to a girl's night out with them and Amelia, one of the other lawyers. I'd never really been to a bar before except the time at McGintey's with Liam, and I got a bit tipsy.
“White Russian,” I said when the bartender asked what I wanted.
“I'll have one too, it sounds interesting,” Ann said.
At first, I was seized by fear, hoping she wouldn’t be disappointed being presented with the drink, but she wasn’t, and we drank White Russians all night long.
Another thing I was learning was how to dress better. At least better than I had been, taking careful note of what the women around me were wearing, all of them looking absolutely gorgeous.
I waited until the next day, during my lunch break. Everything in moderation and all that. It wasn't difficult getting to the stores. Despite its humble bearing, the Howell and Howell building was in a very fashionable part of the city near Rodeo and where to go was a query that poses a much greater issue than how to get there. Again, I tried to put limits on myself, lest I let the money go to my head and go nuts. So, I decide to get only three things.
Two nice outfits for the office that I could alternate and one really, really nice dress for the wedding, and other such formal occasions, in case that should ever come up again. I never really held to single event outfits. It always seemed like such a waste. Which was why I never went to prom. That and I couldn't actually find anyone to go with me. I made the best of it, though, listening to my favorite records, on my headphones, of course, and catching up on my studies.
I hurried back to the office, stashing my bags under t
he desk and got back to work, ignoring the hunger pains tightening in my belly, not having thought to actually eat during my lunch break. I soldiered on through until quitting time, more than ready to go and eat something when the clock ticked to the appointed time.
I was just retrieving my shopping bags when Ann happened by.
“Whoa,” she said, no doubt reading the store names printed in capital letters across the bags.
Embarrassment filled me. “I –”
“Oh no, I get it. A little extravagance never hurt anything,” Ann said, winking.
“No, I mean it's not like that, I-”
I wasn't sure why I was so upset, probably because I had just been described as extravagant by someone I was coming to respect.
“It's okay, really. I noticed your hair yesterday. Looks like things are getting better with Liam around, right? I bet the money helps too. Come on, let's see it.”
“See what?” I asked.
“The dress you got from Maxa Mara.”
Defeated, I put down the office clothes and pulled out the lavish red dress with the plunging neckline I had bought for the wedding, figuring it would do good things for my natural figure.
Ann wolf-whistled. “Wow, Liam really has brought you out of your shell!”
“I-it's not like that. It is only for the wedding. The whole thing is fake.”
Ann raised her eyebrows. “If that's what you need to tell yourself, then so be it, but it doesn't look fake from where I'm standing.”
Her decree made, Ann kept going about whatever business she was on when she had come in, freeing me up to make my escape. Though when I did, it was with a smile.
Chapter Eleven - Liam
The sapphire ring Hayley had was fine but didn't really look like an engagement ring, not as I understood them, and it was possible that people might be able to see through it. As insurance against this, I wanted to buy her another, more traditional ring, so it really looked like we were engaged.
One of the seemingly age-old traditions about rings was that they were supposed to cost three months' salary. No matter how fancy, it seemed unlikely that most commercial sellers would carry anything worth $2 million.
Adjusting my ideas accordingly, I set a much lower goal price and end up with three strong contenders. In the end, I decide on one with a pure white gold setting and three different species of stone, a traditional white diamond, an emerald, and a ruby. It is just ostentatious enough to pass without crossing the line into being crass or tacky.
