by Aubrey Dark
“Excellent,” Bobbi said, adjusting the new dress on my shoulders. “My granddaughter and I can upend all of Denver’s polite society together, then. Starting with this dress. Turn around, dear.”
I turned and gasped at what I saw in the mirror.
Ethereal. That was the word she’d used, and this dress was perfectly matched. The ivory silk draped my shoulders, the half-sleeves exposing my collarbones with a modest sweetheart neckline. A light gauze fabric flowed over the whole dress, wisping down my shoulders and over the soft waves of silk, like a cloud spilling over the mountainside.
“Turn this way a bit,” she said, and as I turned, I saw that the entire dress sparkled with seed pearls sewn into the gown and the bodice. From under the gauze, they looked muted and dreamlike. Most dresses would show off such detail in ostentatious gaudiness, but this design seemed almost to want to hide the magic under a sheath, to let it appear only in traces, shimmering and evanescent.
Like a dream that you couldn’t look at too closely, or it would slip away.
“What do you think?” Bobbi asked. My mouth felt dry.
“It’s… it’s perfect,” I managed to eke out. “Do you like it?”
She beamed.
“I love it,” she said, hugging me around the waist. “I didn’t want to influence your decision, but I think this is the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen on any bride, period.”
She was exaggerating, of course. Of course she was. But as I gazed into the mirror, I couldn’t think of anything that could possibly be more beautiful.
I swallowed as I hugged Bobbi back. I couldn’t help but think of how wonderful it would be to be swept into a family that was so caring and close. I knew it wasn’t real, and that thought pricked tears into my eyes.
It’s not real, I told myself. It’s just pretend. Like a dream.
A beautiful, beautiful dream.
Chapter 19
Following an irritated text from Shawna—well, more like a dozen irritated texts—I returned to the house determined to run the background check on Sierra.
I hoped that I wouldn’t find a thing. As I was getting out of the car, my mother called me to gush over how wonderful Sierra was.
“Did you know that Sierra is teaching Kirsten to count already?”
It took me a moment to realize that she was talking about Kit.
“She’s a good mom,” I said, stumbling over a pink Lego truck as I walked up the driveway to the house. Already there were toys strewn all over my property.
“I can’t wait to spend some time with the both of them.”
“You might want to rethink that, depending on what mood Kit is in.”
A bubble of laughter floated from the phone.
“Sierra said exactly that! You two are like twins.”
“I already have Dex and Sanders,” I said, pushing my way into the house and dodging a half-eaten muffin on the floor. “I don’t need another twin.”
“You know what I mean. Have you decided on your suit yet?”
“Not—not yet,” I said, making my way up toward Sierra’s bedroom.
“The dress is stunning. Simply stunning. I can’t wait for you to see it. You’ll be… you’ll be…”
“Stunned?”
“Yes! Oh, William. I can’t believe this is all happening so fast.”
“Maybe a little too fast,” I said. My mom hadn’t put two and two together about the inheritance, it seemed. Or maybe she had, and she was trying to drag it from me. But it didn’t seem that way. It seemed like she was falling for Sierra as quickly as I had.
“Not at all,” she said. “Once you know, you know. And there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself once you’ve fallen in love.”
I stopped in the doorway of Sierra’s room. She was there, but fast asleep on the bed. Kit was lying draped over her chest, her little arm dangling down across Sierra’s stomach. The little girl rose and fell softly as Sierra breathed deep, sleeping soundly. Something inside of me pulled and twisted, and all of the frustration inside of me unraveled. I leaned against the doorway, my voice going low.
“Was that how it was with you and Dad?” I asked. “Did you know right away?”
There was silence on the other end for a second, which was unusual for my mother.
“Your father was a charmer,” she said finally, every word careful.
“Did you love him?”
“Yes. Yes, at first, yes. I was head over heels for your father.”
I waited, expecting more.
“But I don’t know if he ever felt the same way towards me.”
“He loved you,” I said, wanting it to be true more than knowing that it was true. “He must have loved you.”
“Not as much as he loved his business. Your father was an entrepreneur, through and through. He took care of me, but sometimes I felt as though I was simply another part of his work.” My mother let out a mirthless chuckle. “Finish the merger, check. Write up an investment brief, check. Get flowers and chocolate for the wife, check.”
“To be fair, you do love chocolate.” I paused. “I’m sorry he wasn’t there for you as much as he should have been, Mom.”
“Nonsense.” I could almost see my mother brushing off the sadness from her face as I listened to her. “He was an excellent provider. And like you said in your speech—nobody’s perfect. I certainly wasn’t. I only have myself to blame, in any case. I knew from the beginning that he wasn’t ever going to fall madly in love with me like a prince out of a fairy tale. He was too much of a realist for that.”
“Then why did you marry him?”
My mother fell silent. My chest tightened as I waited, watching Sierra and Kit lying on the bed. I had meant for this to be all business. Hadn’t I? From the start, she had known what the deal was. She could have walked away.
No, she couldn’t, a voice inside of me said.
No, she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to take care of her daughter. She had been coerced into this. And so what if I was starting to fall for her? It wasn’t fair to start this relationship off by making her think there was anything behind it. It would be a year before the shares divested, and I would be able to buy her out. Less than a year. I shouldn’t lead her on, let her get more involved than she should be. Or else she would end up like my mother.
“Mom?” I asked. “Are you there?”
“You and your brothers were born seven months after your dad and I married,” she said.
I frowned.
“No, we weren’t,” I said. “Your anniversary is in August, isn’t it?”
“That’s when we celebrate our anniversary,” my mom corrected. “But we were actually married a few months before then. What’s a few months, right? Nobody outside of the family cared.”
“So… you married him because you were pregnant?”
I turned, leaning back against the doorway, and closed my eyes.
“I only want to tell you this because… because if you’re thinking of marrying Sierra for the same reason—”
“I’m not,” I cut in quickly. My heart was beating fast, the thudding loud in my ears. It had been my fault. My mother had spent her life in a loveless marriage, and it had been because of me. “We’re—we’re not. She’s not pregnant.”
I heard a breath as my mother exhaled, and relief washed over me as well. She didn’t suspect the truth. If anything, she suspected the opposite.
“Good,” she said. “At least, good for now. I expect more grandchildren eventually, of course!”
I laughed softly. What my mother had said still pricked my heart. I felt guilty over being the cause of her unhappy marriage. Guilty, too, that I wasn’t going to give her grandchildren—or at least, none anytime soon. Looking up to Sierra, I thought about what it might be like to have a baby with her. I’d grown attached to Kit, even with all of her messes. If we had another child—
No. What was I even thinking? The idea was insane. I shoved it away.
“I have to go,
Mom,” I said. “Lots to take care of before the wedding.”
“You two must really be in love.”
“What makes you say that?” I turned to look at Sierra again. She was still sleeping.
“The way that you two were looking at each other at dinner, and at the luncheon. How concerned she was about your brother during his episode. When she talks about you, she just lights up. And when you talk about her, there’s a softness in your voice that I never thought I’d hear. I’m right, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” I said, staring at the woman sprawled out on the bed in front of me.
And in that moment, I didn’t know if I was lying or not.
The next morning, I was surprised to find The National Star leaning up against my doorstep. I picked it up and saw a note from Sanders scribbled on the outside.
Way to bring the publicity! the note said.
I pulled the paper out and unrolled it. There was a huge photo of me and Sierra at the luncheon. I only glanced at myself, but Sierra’s image caught my eye. She was gazing up at me, the silver sheath of her dress gently folded down against her shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed how beautiful she’d looked that afternoon. I’d been so worried about catching her stealing from the coat room. I’d been worried about the speech.
Looking at her now, though, I understood what my mother had meant. Her smoky eyes were softened by an expression that I couldn’t name. If it had been any other couple, I might have called it love. But I knew that she didn’t feel that way about me.
Eldest Fawkes Triplet a BACHELOR NO MORE?
The headline above our photo blocked out half of the page in bold red type. I skimmed through the tabloid to the story about Sierra and me.
“Amid a touching memorial for one of the wealthiest men in Colorado, one of the Fawkes sons had stunning news to announce—a wedding!”
I scanned the page. There were scant details and lots of speculation on our engagement. One of the sources mentioned called Sierra a gold digger ‘whose ravishing looks make up for her lack of money.’ Another source speculated on Sierra’s pregnancy. I hoped that my mother hadn’t read this tabloid—it would only fuel her imagination.
In all of the story, though, none of the sources mentioned Sierra’s last name. I could only assume that the person writing the article had as little information about her history as I did.
“What are you reading?”
I tore my eyes away from the page and saw Sierra standing in front of the kitchen table, a dark green silk robe hugged tightly around her. Her mascara was smudged, her hair tousled to one side. She looked utterly beautiful.
“I’m reading about a certain couple’s engagement,” I said, flashing the cover photo at her.
“Oh, my God!” she cried out, grabbing the paper away from me and beaming. Her smile lit up her entire face, and she looked so excited that I wished I had been the one to come up with the idea to put her on the front of the tabloid. “I’m famous!”
Then her smile faded, almost as quickly as it had come. “I’m famous. Everybody will know about us!”
“Good to see that you’re not going to let it get to your head for very long,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Which reminds me, what’s your last name?”
“What?”
Her eyes flashed up, suddenly worried.
“Your last name.”
“Why do you need to know my last name?”
“We’re going to be married,” I pointed out. “It’s not exactly a secret. I showed you my birthmark, didn’t I? Surely a last name isn’t too much to ask.”
Sierra flushed and looked away from me. I regretted bringing up that night. Not only because it made my mind turn to thoughts that made my cock stiffen.
“But what do you want my last name for?” she asked softly.
“Lots of things.”
“Like?”
“Wedding invitations, for one. A pre-nup contract. A background check.”
“Background check?”
She bit her lip, and a streak of fear pulsed through me.
“Why don’t you want me to check up on you? What am I going to find?”
“Nothing.” She folded the paper in half and threw it back down on the kitchen table. “Nothing. I told you. I’ve never been caught stealing.”
“Then why are you so insistent on—”
“I have to go. I have a manicure appointment,” she said, not meeting my eyes. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“Sierra, no.”
I got up and put my hand on her shoulder. She spun around, all fire and fury. Her hair was wild, and I longed to smooth it down, to kiss her and tell her that everything would be alright. The trouble was, I wasn’t sure if things would be alright.
“Barlow,” she said, in a hoarse voice. “My last name is Barlow.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Are you telling me the truth?”
“I told you I wouldn’t lie to you again!” she fired back. “Sierra Barlow. You can check all you want, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
She pulled herself out of my grip. Touching her shoulder where I’d grabbed her, she turned away from me and hurried away. I slumped back down against the kitchen table.
That hadn’t gone well. It hadn’t gone as badly as it could have, but it hadn’t gone well.
I wanted to be a better husband than my father had been to my mother, I really did. But it seemed like every time I needed to reach out to Sierra, it was the wrong moment. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong, or what I could even do better.
Sierra Barlow. Rolling the name on the tip of my tongue, I went to get ready for work. I’d be able to run a more powerful search through the company’s hiring engines.
And maybe then I would be able to find out who Sierra really was.
Chapter 20
Letting the hot water run down my back, I tried to pretend that everything would be fine. I was going to meet with the divorce lawyer, and he would fix everything.
But what if William found out before I could get the divorce pushed through?
What if he kicked me and Kit out?
Teresa was in the other room watching Kit. I could hear her singing Bananaphone even through the shower. I closed my eyes and tried to tune everything out. All of the bad feelings.
“Why didn’t you invite me to go dress shopping with you?” she’d asked, once I’d come home. I’d been so elated to find a perfect dress with Bobbi that I hadn’t even thought about not having my best friend along with me.
And what could I tell her, really? Sorry, but this isn’t a real wedding. You can come dress shopping with me when I have an actual marriage to be dress shopping for.
There was no way I could open up to her with the truth, and so I lied. Again. Some lame excuse about things being rushed. The look of hurt in her eyes was enough to remind me that I still had a conscience. A crappy, half-defunct conscience, but a conscience nonetheless.
“Will you still be my maid of honor?” I’d asked instead.
“You bet your butt!” Teresa had replied, and although it didn’t smooth everything over, it was enough for now.
I hated the lies. I hated all the pretending. I was pretending to Bobbi that I was a happy bride for her son. I was pretending to Teresa that I was a best friend who had gotten incredibly lucky with a rich boyfriend. And I was pretending to William that I wasn’t married.
In reality, I was only a thief who had gotten caught. And I was trying like hell to make things right again.
These thoughts careened through my mind as I got ready with my new skirt suit—William had bought me enough clothes to last me a decade, and told me that I should exchange anything I didn’t like—and kissed Kit goodbye. Pulling out onto the small side road, I wasn’t even thinking about driving until a man threw himself in the middle of the road right in front of my car.
I swerved onto the bank, gravel skidding under my tires. The man jumped up, landing directly on the hood of my c
ar. I gasped, my heart skittering to a stop, and then my adrenaline flared up for another reason entirely.
“Justin!”
“Stop!” He yelled, his hand splayed across my windshield. I put the car into park and unbuckled my seat belt. My heart was still thudding irregularly from the fright. “Jesus, Sierra, what the hell were you thinking? You could have killed me.”
He hopped off of the car hood as I got out. My hands crumpled into fists.
“I could have killed you? You could have killed me! What are you doing here?”
“Where’s Kit?” He looked around to the back seat. “How’s my baby doing? She’s not with you?”
I slammed the car door, anger replacing my fear.
“She’s not your baby, she’s my baby. Remember? You didn’t want her.”
“Hey, that’s not true. You took her away from me.”
I bit my lip hard enough to hurt. The pain cleared my mind. I didn’t want to get into this argument again with Justin. He wasn’t Kit’s dad. He might have been her biological father, but that’s all he was. No matter what he said, he had been the one to turn tail and leave before we had even come home from the hospital.
“Whatever,” I said coldly. “Why are you here?”
Justin leaned against the car. His black hair was overgrown, and he ruffled it back with one hand. At one point in my life, I’d thought that he’d been the most handsome, ruggish man in the world. Now when I looked at him, all I saw was an irresponsible mess of a person.
“I heard you were getting engaged to another guy,” he said.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Uh, every news channel. I guess your fiance is a big deal. Is that your new thing, getting yourself a sugar daddy? Living as a kept woman?”
“Fuck you.”
“Looks like a big diamond on your finger there. You tell your guy that you already have a husband?”
My hand closed over my ring finger.
“As a matter of fact, I’m heading to a divorce lawyer right now to take care of that problem.”
“I’m a problem to be taken care of, now? That hurts, Sierra. Hurts real bad.”
