by Aubrey Dark
“William?”
“Yes?” My voice was throaty, hoarse as I drove away the image from my mind. “What is it?”
“What about a backstory?”
We had drinks at the wine bar Shawna had picked out, a trendy place on top of the tallest highrise in Denver. When we’d walked in, half of the men had turned to look at her. I felt oddly proud to have her as my date. The indoor garden sparkled with lights, and as we drank, we invented a history for Sierra.
“You can’t be a thief,” I said.
“I tell everyone I work at a nightclub,” she said. “Could we say that?”
“Do you have fake W2 forms to prove it?” I asked. She shook her head. “Too risky. We can’t pick anything where they would be able to check up on your record. What do you put down as your profession for the IRS?”
“Self-employed,” Sierra said. “But I never report all of my cash.”
“Then you’re an artist,” I said, coming up with the idea on the spot. “A struggling artist who makes plant-based googly eye art.”
Sierra laughed.
“That won’t work for long. Your family will want to see my art. And they’ll realize quickly that I don’t have any talent, and nobody in their right mind would give me any money.”
“Okay, how about this? You work at an art nonprofit doing administrative work under the table. Unglamorous and uninteresting.”
“Hm. That could work.” She thought for a moment, then nodded.
“Tell me more about your background.”
“My real background, or my fake background?”
“Let’s tell the truth as much as possible. Here, come dance with me.”
“Dance?” Sierra’s eyes went wide as I led her out into the middle of the terrace. Soft music played overhead, but we were the only ones dancing. She circled her arms around my neck as I pulled her close. She smelled delicious, and I held her closer than I needed to. Her body was soft against mine and my hand caressed her back.
“I wanted to get away from the bar. Too many people there to overhear.”
“Right.” Her voice was breathy and low. I would have wished that it was more than an act, but I knew better than to hope for that. What had she said? I’m good at faking things.
“So tell me about your family. Your hobbies. Tell me everything about you.”
“Um, sure. You’ve already met Kit. Kirsten. She just turned two in March.”
“And her dad?”
Sierra’s hands tightened around my neck. I massaged her back and she let out a breath.
“His name was Justin. Is Justin. He’s been gone since she was a baby.”
“Why did you break up with him?”
Sierra laughed, so softly that I wasn’t sure at first she wasn’t crying.
“You assume I was the one who broke up with him?”
“I couldn’t imagine anyone breaking up with you.”
She turned her head away from me, leaning her cheek against my chest. When she next spoke, there was a hitch in her voice.
“He left. He left both of us. He didn’t want a baby. Didn’t want to take care of her. He cheated on me, and then I kicked him out. But he was already gone by then. I just didn’t know it yet.”
I was silent for a moment, holding her in my arms. I didn’t know what to say to comfort her, or if I should even try.
“Anyway, we’re better off.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mom died right after I was born.”
“I’m sorry. How…?”
“A heart complication, combined with eclampsia.” Her words came out clipped and raw. “My dad’s still alive. His name is Steve, but everyone calls him Skeleton.”
“Because he’s skinny?”
Sierra chuckled softly, her body untensing a bit.
“He’s had a beer belly ever since I could remember. No, they call him that after a skeleton key.”
“A what?”
“You know, a key that can open any lock? That’s him. He’s the one that taught me how to pick locks and crack safes. And pickpocketing. And shoplifting.”
“Okay, let’s leave that part out when we tell the family about him. We’ll say you don’t talk much anymore.”
“We don’t. Not really. Not unless he needs money. He’s a gambler.”
There was an edge in her voice. I got the feeling that she didn’t want to talk about her dad, which was fine for our purposes.
“Any other family?”
“That’s it,” she said bitterly. “I told you we didn’t have much.”
Words couldn’t help, and I didn’t have them anyway. I pressed my hand against her back and danced with her, turning to the music. It was another minute before the tension left her body, and she leaned against me fully with a sigh, letting me hold her. Warmth flooded my body as I clasped her against my chest and we danced, danced in the dim lights, until it was time to go.
Chapter 10
I was embarrassed by how emotional I’d gotten while telling William about my family. He’d opened up a wound that had never fully healed. I loved my dad, I did. I hated when I had to feel ashamed of him. I wanted to grab William by the collar and shout at him that I was proud of everything I knew, that being a thief was harder than he thought. That he shouldn’t look down on me for it.
But instead of insulting me, William had put his arms around me and said nothing. I didn’t know how to take that.
With one hand on my back, he led me out of the wine bar. It seemed like he was bound and determined to get me used to him touching me. Strangely enough, it was working, or maybe it was the wine that had made me a bit tipsy. I wasn’t even startled when he gripped my elbow and spun me away from the front door of the bar.
“Hurry,” he said, his voice tight.
“Mr. Fawkes! Mr. Fawkes!”
I heard a rustling of noise and turned my head to see a pack of people with cameras waiting outside on the sidewalk. They started to run toward us.
I stood frozen in my heels until William wrenched me nearly off my feet toward the limo.
“I said hurry,” he hissed.
I stumbled alongside him, but it was too late. The cameramen caught up with us before we could reach the car door. Blocking our entrance, they shoved cameras in my face. Lights flashed everywhere, and I blinked, blinded temporarily by the flash of the cameras. My head reeled dizzily from the combination of bright light and alcohol.
“What’s your name?”
“Who are you?”
“Are you dating William Fawkes?”
William had detached from my side. He was pushing one of the cameramen away from the limousine door, trying to clear a path for us. I shook my head, putting my hand up to my face to shield my eyes.
That wasn’t the right move.
Immediately, I felt my hand get yanked away from my eyes. One of the men had taken me by the wrist. His camera was shoved up right to my face, and the light flashed, flashed, flashed.
“Who are you?”
Shocked, I tried to pull away from the man. But he had me in his meaty hand like a vise. Should I knee him in the groin? Headbutt him? I doubted William wanted his date to be violent. Instead, I stood helplessly, trying to extricate myself from his grip.
“William!” I yelled. He turned back and saw what was happening. Before I could say anything else, he was back on the curb. His fist connected with the cameraman’s jaw, and I felt the hand loosen around my wrist as he dropped his camera onto the sidewalk. As William pulled me into the limousine, the other men stayed a safe distance back.
The car door slammed shut. All of the noises went mute through the glass of the window.
“Drive,” William growled. The car pulled away, and I fell backwards against his shoulder. I was breathless.
“What—what just happened?” I said.
“Paparazzi. There aren’t many of them in Denver, not as many as in New York or LA, but they’re here. And they’re even more desperate for tabl
oid fodder.”
William was scowling, a deep frown etching his face. It scared me. I’d never seen him angry before, and now he was seething.
“I thought that this was what you wanted, though,” I said, confused. “To get publicity. Attention.”
“Not if it hurts you.”
William picked up my wrist as though it was a fragile branch. His thumb caressed the inside of my wrist. And God—oh God—fire raced through my veins. I flushed hard, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy examining me.
“I’m fine,” I stammered. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“You’re my future wife,” he said, still focused on my bruised wrist. “Of course I worry about you.”
“You know I’m not your real future wife, right?”
His eyes flashed up at me, and my cheeks went hot.
“When we’re married, you’ll get this hassle wherever you go,” he said, more to himself than to me.
When we’re married...
Again I thought of Justin, about the divorce papers that had never been signed. Guilt singed the edges of my desire. I had to get money soon, so that I could hire a lawyer and finish what I should have finished a long time ago. I cursed myself for putting it off, for thinking that things would take care of themselves. When had things ever taken care of themselves? Somebody had to take care of them, and it had always been me.
But I struggled to ask William for the money. He might ask what I wanted it for. And once he knew that I wasn’t really single, he would move on to another lucky woman. I couldn’t let that happen. Here I had a chance to get a solid foundation for Kit, to make her life better than mine had been.
No. I’d find some other way to get it done.
“We’ll be a bit early to Dexter’s place,” William said, finally putting my hand back down. He left his hand cradled atop of mine absently, and the heat still drove through my body from his fingers tracing my wrist. This was the man I was supposed to be pretending to date. I wondered how long I could stand it before I made a total fool out of myself in front of him. He seemed so cool, so in control of everything. In control of himself. And even though normally I was able to act like a flirt towards guys, he had my heart racing like nothing else.
“Great,” I said, pretending to be as calm as he seemed to be. “Let’s go over my backstory.”
“Who is this lovely girl? Will, I had no idea you were bringing a date!”
The woman in the doorway threw her arms open, and before I knew it, I was buried in a cinnamon-scented hug.
“I take it you’re Mrs. Fawkes?”
“Don’t you dare call me anything but Bobbi,” she said. “Unless you want to call me RiverCloud. That’s my spirit name.”
“I’m Sierra.”
She pulled back to examine me closely, and I was suddenly timid. Her short cropped white hair made her look more like a David Bowie groupie than an old woman, and she was obviously old money. A gorgeous oversized pearl necklace looped three times around her neck, and when she moved, the linen pantsuit that she was wearing swished glamorously around her thin frame.
“Sierra. A beautiful name. Already a name of the earth. Such a beautiful young woman. I’m so glad you could come to dinner.”
“I hope you have a place set for me, too, Mom,” William teased.
“Oh, you silly,” she said, hugging her son tightly. If there was one adjective I would use to describe William, I thought, it wouldn’t be silly.
“Where’s Dex?”
“Dexter? Oh, I think he’s in the kitchen, making sure the dinner is coming along.”
“Did I hear my name?”
A head popped out into the hallway. I was taken aback by the familiar gray-blue eyes for only a moment before remembering. Right, they’re triplets. Dexter’s hair was cropped shorter than William’s, and his frame was more wiry. He came forward and wrapped an arm around his brother before shaking my hand. His muscled hand was tense and calloused, and he shook it once, hard, before letting go.
“Nice to meet you, Sierra. Did my brother kidnap you in order to get a date for tonight? Blink twice if you’re being held hostage.”
I laughed. Despite his fierce expression, it seemed this Fawkes brother had a sense of humor.
“I’m here entirely of my own accord,” I said, holding up a hand as an oath. “I swear.”
“Oh, hush, Dexter,” Bobbi said. “Come in, come in. Would you like a drink? Now tell me all about yourself.” She wrapped an arm around me and led me into the house. I looked around. The three brothers had such different taste in design. Sanders’ house, the one I’d been in for the cocktail party, was elaborate and extravagantly decorated. William’s home was modern but cozy, all wood and natural elements. But this house was different. Dexter hadn’t put any decorations up on the walls, and the dark wood that ran along the walls and floors of the home made the large house seem closed in, almost claustrophobic. All of the lights were dim globes of yellow, and as we moved deeper into the house I had the strange feeling of entering an animal’s den.
Still, it was a gorgeous home. The dining room was a little brighter, with a bouquet of yellow roses in the middle.
“What beautiful flowers!” I exclaimed, leaning forward to inhale their scent.
“Thanks to my mom,” Dexter said, running a hand over his buzzed hair. “I don’t really do flowers.”
“It livens things up a bit,” Bobbi said. “Chardonnay or Merlot, dear?”
We sat down at the table and William’s mom insisted on pouring us all wine. Then a commotion came from the hallway, two voices bouncing loudly back and forth.
“That sounds like your brother,” Dexter said pointedly at William.
“My brother? Nah, that sounds like your brother.”
“You boys get along, now,” Bobbi warned.
“Hello, everyone!”
The voice emerged in the form of another triplet. Sanders had a buxom blonde lady on his arm, and he was laughing. If he hadn’t been so boisterous, I would think that he looked exactly like William.
“Hi Sanders,” William said, as his brother ran over and gave him a bear hug that nearly spilled his wine. “And this is?”
“Maddie,” Dexter chimed in. “Remember? From—uh—”
“From the boat show,” the blonde Maddie said. “Nice to see you all again.”
“This is Sierra,” William said, motioning towards me.
“No! It’s not possible!”
Sanders clasped one hand to his chest as his eyes fell on me. My heart skipped. I thought for a terrifying second that he’d recognized me from the party. Then he beamed, falling over himself to come and greet me.
“There’s no way such a beautiful woman would fall for my brother.” He kissed my hand. “Tell me what he’s done to bribe you to date him. I’ll match whatever he offers, I promise.”
I looked awkwardly at his date, who didn’t seem to care, and clamped my mouth shut. There was no way he could know how close he was to the truth.
“How long has he been keeping you a secret from us?”
“We’ve only known each other a few weeks,” I said. We all settled back down around the table. Sanders started pouring himself a healthy serving of wine, and William intervened, pushing the bottle away from his glass. Sanders grumbled but put the bottle of wine down without protest.
“So, Sierra, where did you two meet?” Bobbi asked.
“A coffeeshop downtown,” William said, his voice running smoothly over the lie we’d practiced in the limo. “Her daughter decided my shoes needed a little tea spilled on them.”
“It was my fault,” I said. “I told her to get the attention of the most handsome man in the room, and she’s always been good at aiding and abetting.”
As we told the story, making the rest of the table laugh, an unease came over me. Although I’d spent my life working in deception, I was surprised to find myself growing nervous with each passing lie. Surely they would figure out that we weren’t
actually dating.
Then William put his arm around me and drew me close.
“I don’t know if Sierra thinks she’s truly being held hostage,” he said, turning to press a kiss on my temple, “but I consider myself the luckiest man in the world.”
“You both look so in love,” Bobbi said, her face gleaming happily.
A deep warmth spread through me, even as my guilt grew. I turned my heated face away from the table and planted a soft kiss on William’s lips. It was only a brush of lips, the faintest ghost of a kiss, but it was enough to send a searing heat straight to my core. His eyes widened slightly, and I wondered if he was experiencing the same thing.
“Ugh, stop being so damn cute together,” Dexter said, winking at us. “Let’s eat!”
Sanders was looking at William, straight across the table. It was a strange look, curiously penetrating, and for a moment I saw their faces mirrored at each other, as though connected psychically. Both the same handsome dark features, the light eyes shining out from under black eyebrows. And a flash of suspicion on Sanders’ face.
Thankfully, the chef’s arrival disrupted Sanders’ gaze. I was glad to be distracted by the meal. The chef, a middle-aged woman dressed entirely in black, served us each while explaining the dishes. As we ate our way through the endive salad and first course of roast rib, Bobbi chattered away, telling stories about the boys and their childhood. More than once, one of the triplets had to protest to stop a particularly embarrassing story from being told. And every time, the other two demanded a full accounting.
I tried not to stuff myself too much, but course after course came through the room and finally I was too full to eat anything more. Then the last course was a bread pudding with dried figs and pomegranates, and I decided that I could spare a little more room in my stomach. The blonde woman, Maddie, watched me with a look of friendly envy as I dug into the sweet custard, and Bobbi insisted on giving Dexter an extra portion of dessert.
