by Laura Burton
Talia stared after him while the conversation around her switched back to Japanese. A camera clicked, and she whipped around, staring in surprise as they took another picture.
"No, that's not me," she said, turning and hurrying away. She didn't know why she'd lied. All she knew was that she really liked Denver, but by the look on his face, she doubted he'd be calling her anytime soon.
Hesitating, she glanced at the group again, meeting five pairs of curious dark eyes. She walked unsteadily back to them and tapped at the magazine, pointing to Denver's picture. "Who is this?"
They laughed, joking between themselves before the man holding the magazine looked back at her. "Candy boss. Candy. Best—here!" He held a hand up and waited until one of his friends had fished a bag from their suit pocket and dropped it in his hand.
A bag full of colorful, chewy candies was in his hand, and it finally hit her. Talia knew the Caldon brand well, since they were in every grocery store in the country.
She shook her head. "Denver Caldon, like the company? He owns the company?"
"Yessir, candy boss. And you?" The man smiled and tapped her picture, like he suspected he was being fooled.
"No." Talia shook her head again. "I mean, yes, that's me, but no, I'm not marrying Denver Caldon. It was just for fun."
"Ah, yes. Shy. We find out at wedding, then." They smiled their savvy smiles at her and continued to the inflatable ring. It was an instant success, with a couple of the party crawling up and bouncing on hands and knees, unable to stand.
But Talia could only think of the look on Denver's face. She hadn't meant to like him so much, but there was a connection between them she practically had to fight off. Now that she'd let herself spend time with him, she wanted more of it. He'd seemed so carefree and fun, with such a delightful sense of humor. But clearly, he had a few secrets behind his even smile.
She brushed her thoughts aside and went back to work. His reaction meant there was a lot he hadn't told her; maybe they'd never even see each other again.
Apparently, the joke was on her.
Chapter 4
The rest of the setup for the sumo party had kept Talia busy enough that she could avoid thinking about Denver too much. She helped with the final touches, a roll of red carpet to welcome guests and a welcome table for them to sign in.
It wasn't until the drive home that she started to think of him. Really think. Her lips tensed as she remembered his reaction to the magazine, and a thought struck her. Maybe he hadn't been reacting to the photo but to the heading. She hadn't even read it.
Pulling into a grocery store parking lot, she gauged the reactions of everyone she passed, wondering if she'd find the same attention the sumo party group had given her. But the most she got was a slight eyebrow raise of greeting, leaving her to wonder if it was only the category of candy-loving magazine readers that she had to watch out for.
She spotted the picture of her and Denver and pulled it from the shelf, stepping into line. Setting a bag of pretzels on top of the magazine, she scanned the store again, but no one seemed to be taking notice of her.
"Oh my gosh, is this you?" the checker whispered, leaning over the register with wide eyes and her mouth agape. She had the magazine in one hand, and her googly eyes wobbled back and forth from Talia to the cover. "I thought it was a secret who Denver was marrying! Speculations have been all over the place. Did he really set up the reality show? Are you the winner?"
Her whispering had morphed into a tortured-sounding squeal, and Talia shushed her quickly. "I'm not marrying him," she whispered. "I just helped to set up a wedding—"
"His wedding?" It didn't seem possible, but the girl's eyes had bulged out even wider.
"I'm in a hurry," Talia shoved some cash at her. "Keep the change. Thanks."
The girl didn't move and stood with her hands clasped together, resting against her chest. It was a sight that caught the attention of everyone in the line behind her, and next to her… and next to them. Talia rushed out before anyone else could talk to her.
Safe in her car, she was grateful for the heavy tinting on the windows. She stared back at the cover, feeling nearly drugged with confusion. Was she so out of touch that she didn't recognize a national celebrity? But if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't so outlandish. She was more inclined to search out food and travel magazines than tabloids.
The heading validated what the checker girl had shrieked.
"The Identity of Denver's Secret Bride, Revealed!"
Her eyes dropped to the subtitle, and her mouth dropped with them.
"Australia's richest Heir has finally satisfied his sweet tooth."
So, he really was the owner of Caldon, the candy industry giant. Or he soon would be. She quickly typed his name in her phone, reading the first article out of the million and a half search results. The mass of information was staggering. Born in Australia to native parents but grew up in the US with his cousins, Denver was as far removed from the company's fame and pressures as possible in his youth.
She clicked on the next article, cringing a little at the sensationalism of his life. It read like a movie trailer, right down to the "ultimate wedding game. A daring pledge from Denver himself to love and cherish the winner. The contest has ended and a wedding is set, but no word as to who the mysterious bride is."
With a flick, she closed the search just as her phone chimed. She glanced at her text messages, gawking at the number. 46 messages? Apparently, there were more than a few people who noticed tabloids…and who knew about Denver. Talia couldn't help but feel sorry for him, imagining the shock his fiancée would feel at seeing their picture on the cover of a magazine. But why was he setting up for—
Talia's thoughts stopped there. The wedding dress. The high-profile clients… Had they been setting up for his wedding? So where was his fiancée? And why in the candy-coated universe had he almost kissed her?
She pulled out of the parking lot, determined to answer at least a few questions buzzing in her head. Her phone chimed again, and she set it to silent; people would just have to wait. Besides, the way things were going, they probably knew more about it than she did. But one thing she'd noticed in her google search was the address to the Caldon headquarters in the US, and it was surprisingly close.
If she'd thought it through, she wouldn't have come to the building. She would have run from it, avoided it at all costs. But it was too late for that, she was already through the doors and up the escalator. The receptionist's eyes had bugged out at the sight of her. She'd pushed a button on her desk like it was a fire alarm and they were up in flames.
"Sir, she's here. No, the other one. Yes, sir."
Talia glanced behind her as she floated up to the second floor, at the receptionist who'd suddenly been sent into a frenzy of activity, scribbling notes, typing, and scribbling again. She sank out of view, and Talia stepped off the escalator to find a young man about her age, dressed in the finest suit she'd ever seen. His hair was an ashy brown, and his eyes matched the color almost perfectly. He nodded at her in a respectful greeting.
"Hello, Miss Talia, surname Benatti?"
Talia nodded apprehensively. Was the receptionist down there looking her up?
"Thank you so much for coming, my name is Brandon. On behalf of the company, let me first apologize for anything unpleasant you may have experienced as a result of this misinformed article. While we don't have control of what the tabloids print, we also feel a responsibility for the infamous nature of this company and the effect it may have had on you personally."
He was like a well-bred politician and smooth as melted chocolate. But instead of making her feel better, his manicured words only had her jittery. She twisted her hands together, suddenly very aware of her rushed-morning ponytail and old beach bum t-shirt.
"Mr. Caldon wishes to speak with you, and I will be here afterward to answer any additional questions as well as to escort you out." He smiled without showing teeth and knocked on the closest
door, glossy mahogany with a brass handle. When it opened, he stepped aside and extended his arm, directing her in.
Talia walked forward slowly, her stomach turning and heart racing at the apprehension of seeing Denver again. Instead, there was a gray-haired gentleman in another incredible suit. He stared out the window at a glorious view of the city with his back to her.
She stood beside a delicious smelling leather chair, glancing at giant posters of colorful candies that had been magnified until they looked like strange planets. Swaying on her feet, she tried to swallow away her nerves.
"It looks like there's been a proper mistake."
His Australian accent was rich, carrying his words in a beautiful cadence. He turned around and smiled, and the resemblance to Denver was shocking. His skin was lined by time, and his eyes were creased, but they were the same strikingly deep, dark color.
"I'm sorry about this mix-up, truly," he said.
He reached out and she shook his hand, still lost in the similarities between him and his son. "It's okay," she countered, "that's not why I came. I just wanted to speak with Denver, but if he's unavailable—"
The door swung open in a burst, and she jumped aside, suddenly feeling like a criminal. But she found herself face to face with Denver, and her insides melted in his gaze. Warm and gooey, she could've closed her eyes and breathed in the delicious sight of him. She tried to shake herself out of it, but she was lost in the way his eyes held hers. She reminded herself that he was engaged and forced her eyes back to his father.
"What exactly is going on, Father?" Denver asked. "Why wasn't I told about Miss Benatti?"
So, he knew her full name too. Talia was beginning to suspect she'd been tricked. "We were just discussing the magazine cover," she said, looking back at him and steadying her reaction to his face. "I didn't realize you were engaged. It must be difficult to have the media reporting lies about who your fiancée is." While she spoke, she couldn't help narrowing her eyes, prying into his expression to seek out the answers he was holding back.
"Yes, I…" He shifted his weight. "I was working with the setup crew to ensure everything was perfect, even the way we would look against the backdrop of it all. That's why I had you take that picture."
"Yeah?" Talia's skeptical reply left the room silent. She wanted to say the rest, all the loud thoughts that pricked at her mind. Why had he held her hands so softly her heart thrummed? Why had he leaned closer, making her eyes nearly brush closed? If he was so engaged, what was he doing almost kissing a woman he'd just met?
But in the silence, she lost her nerve.
"What we want to make sure of," Mr. Caldon said, straightening to his full height, "is that this story finishes well. We can't control what is already out. It's too late for that." His eyes hardened toward his son. "But what we can control is the direction it flows. A high-profile story only needs a happy ending to be profitable."
"So, how would you plan to do that?" Denver asked, looking more cautious than curious.
"We simply need to confirm that she's your fiancée."
"What?"
"What?"
Denver's wide eyes were locked on Talia, and as much as she could tell, his expression was genuine. His father had some nerve. "And what about his real fiancé?" she asked. "I haven't met her, but I'm pretty sure she'll have a problem with this."
"She's out of the country, it won't matter," said the older version of Denver.
Talia couldn't even think of a response.
"Just hear me out for a moment," his father continued, holding a steady hand up in front of them. "People learn who the fiancée is. They throw a little media at it, do a few stories, and then it's over. When the real bride comes along, we just need to say she had so much anxiety that we used a stand-in to protect her health."
He shrugged. "Easy as anything. But let's consider the alternative." His eyes bore down on Talia. "If she's not a stand-in or the bride, what was she doing wearing that dress and holding your hands on the wedding set?" His stare swung back around to Denver. "That is bad media. And let me assure you, you’ll be well compensated for your trouble. Would ten thousand be adequate?"
Talia's stomach dropped to her toes. The phrase ten thousand dollars turned her brain to jelly. It would fund her Ireland trip entirely and leave her with a hefty cushion in the bank. She didn’t like either of her options, but there wasn’t much more she could do. She either pretended to be engaged to Denver or suffered through media attacks that were likely to be vicious.
Denver took in her shock for a moment and shook his head. "Liz will understand, don't worry about it. I know what to say."
His eyes looked sad, and Talia held his shadowed gaze as she wondered why. Their situation was preposterous; she should feel appalled. But looking back at Denver, she couldn't even find the right emotion. There was only curiosity and awe, and something close to what her first middle-school crush had felt like.
Above everything, she wanted to believe he was looking out for her. The way he'd charged into the room showed it, and the kind way he was looking back at her showed it too. And there was something else that had begun to prick at her mind. She was finally starting to listen to the part of herself that she'd ignored during her engagement.
She'd pushed down the thoughts that tried to flutter up from inside, telling her there were warning signs and problems. Her fiancé refused to make decisions on the date, or the venue, or the tuxedo. He contradicted her at every turn, even when it seemed there was nothing at all to argue about. Who argued about flowers?
But she'd finally learned to listen to the part of herself she'd never trusted. She was listening to her heart. And it was telling her to say yes.
Chapter 5
Denver couldn't believe she'd agreed. He looked back at her and waited for the rest of her answer, but she'd already given it. Yes.
"You're sure about this?" he asked, ready to backpedal his father's precise but ludicrous idea of faking an engagement. Who did that? "We can just stay silent and wait out the media if you're not comfortable. It's not the worst thing in the world."
His father glared at him, but he ignored it. Just because she was willing to play along, it didn't mean it was the right thing to do.
"I'm sure," Talia said. Her eyes were skirting back to him, as if trying to figure him out. If he were to tell her the truth, she'd run and never look back. Who’d want to be with a man who lied to an entire audience about a dating show? But here she was, searching out his character and giving this plan a chance. Sure, it would keep the media from bombarding her, and he was glad his father had offered a decent compensation, but most of all it would help him. And she, no doubt, knew that.
"Okay. Well, thank you, then," he finally said, letting his eyes rest on her like they always wanted to. He couldn't help it. From the first moment she'd saved him from falling off a ladder, he'd been held captive by her dark sultry eyes, and smooth, dark skin. The few freckles on her cheeks were something he already adored. It was a strong word to use on a woman he'd barely met, but it didn't feel strong enough. She brought something out of him that he'd barricaded inside, and from that very first look, he was captive.
"Ahem." His father cleared his throat, and Denver turned back to see him with his burly arms crossed in front of his chest. "Let's arrange to stage a few photographs tomorrow—does that work for you?" He waited only until Talia nodded. "Great. And then dinner on Thursday. We'll just have to wait out the weekend and see when Liz arrives."
"Hold on, Father." Denver could tell by the abrupt silence that he was already crossing some line into his father's irritation, but it didn't matter. He wasn't going to be bossed around like he was a child. "No schedules. We'll just spend a little time together every day. A trip to the store, a walk downtown. Let's just keep it natural. It doesn't need to be formal."
Denver could see in his father's eyes that he didn't like being corrected. There was a vein on the side of his head that swelled when he was tense, and it was beg
inning to protrude. But after a glance at Talia, he seemed to calm down.
"Very well, if you feel that would be more natural." He squared his shoulders and turned to the window. "Let me know if you need help with anything. It was nice meeting you, Talia."
"It was nice meeting you too." Talia turned to leave, glancing back at Denver first.
The effect of her stare sank to his toes, vibrating off his skin like electricity.
"I'll see you later," she said with a hesitant, parting smile.
It was a strange situation, Denver had to admit, especially when she knew he was engaged… Or, she thought he was engaged. And it was true! He was or had been. But things had gone so horribly wrong, he could hardly face the truth. Hiding it from everyone had come to be the worst decision he could have made, layering lie upon lie until he was sure his future was going to come crashing down any day. Most certainly on the wedding day, since the bride wasn't planning on attending.
If only he hadn't rigged that contest—if only Liz loved him as she'd claimed.
But he had, and she didn't.
He turned back to his father's broad shoulders, wishing his physical brawn could be a manifestation of inner strength. Perhaps then he could talk to him as a son in need of wisdom. But they'd never had that type of relationship, and it certainly wasn't going to start now.
"I'll call you tomorrow," he said, watching his father's head nod while still staring out the window. "Thank you for your advice." Never would he have thought to suggest a fake engagement with Talia, but moving forward it was the smoothest thing to do. The media would be robbed of their scandal and would undoubtedly lose interest.
With heavy feet, he left the office, deep in thought. He imagined a hundred different paths he could have taken that would have been easier than what he now had to walk. But one thing was shining like a beacon amidst the misery of all other thoughts, and he couldn't ignore it.
