Fake Boyfriend

by Miley Maine

  I couldn’t see his eyes, but his body language was off. He was giving every sign that he was waiting for something, and it wasn’t his bride.

  When she joined him at the altar, he did paste a smile on his face, but it was a weird one. The ceremony dragged on, and everything went off without a hitch, and finally they were pronounced husband and wife.

  Everyone got up and headed to the reception area, which was also outdoors. There was a dance floor, surrounded by tables and chairs, a small band playing hit songs, and tables loaded down with food, all covered by a huge white tent.

  Before Loren could get caught up in the madness of snapping photos of the bride dancing with the flower girl, I caught her by the arm. “Look at me,” I said to her. I knew if I didn’t make eye contact with her, she might easily brush aside what I was about to say.

  “Do you need something? I’m working.”

  “Something’s wrong with the fiance. I guess he’s the husband now. Douglas.”

  “What?” She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I do for a living. And I can’t give you one ounce of proof that would hold up in court. But I’m telling you that something is off with Douglas, and I want you to be aware of that.”

  “Off like what?” she asked.

  “He’s uneasy,” I said. “He’s nervous.”

  “Lots of people get nervous at their weddings.”

  “This goes beyond normal nerves.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. There was only so much I could say. I’d seen people nervous over drug shipments they were about to order, assassinations they were about to attempt, and bombs they were about to plant. Douglas reminded me far more of those guys than your average antsy groom.

  Loren sighed. “Listen, I get how he comes across. He was born with a silver spoon up his ass, and he’s obnoxious. But he’s been really good to my cousin, and to my family. After I told him about my photography, and how kids in inner city Atlanta often don't get to participate in the arts, he even set up a charity that would fund camps for the arts, right in their own neighborhoods.”

  Plenty of criminals were notorious about funding charities, for all kinds of reasons. “That’s great. But that doesn’t change anything.”

  “No one else could put up with my cousin,” she said. “You saw how she is.”

  “I did. But that also doesn’t change anything.”

  “What do you want me to do about it?” she asked.

  I touched her cheek. “I want you to be careful.” I leaned in and whispered in her ear. “As your fake boyfriend, and the guy who’s fucking you, I want you to be very careful.”

  She ducked her head and stepped back. “You’re a mess, Jackson. But I like it.”

  “Just promise me.”

  She nodded. “I promise.”

  I didn’t have a reason to interfere any more than that. Not yet. So her promise was going to have to be enough -- for now.

  The reception seemed to drag on. An hour in, the bride and groom had cut the cake, but that was about it. Loren was completely occupied -- she was taking photos of the bride and her bridesmaids doing silly things.

  The groom and his groomsmen hadn’t had their turn yet, but they were crowded around the extravagant buffet table. Once again, the groom caught my eye. Douglas was piling food on his plate just like everyone else, but he kept touching his pocket.

  Was he armed? Was he waiting on for a call?

  Loren’s mother had joined the bridesmaids, so they were well guarded, so I figured I might as well eat. I had nothing else to do, and the lamb last night had been delicious. This buffet seemed to feature shrimp and scallops. I picked up a glass of champagne from the waiter and got a plate full of seafood.

  Douglas finally went to sit down, but he chose an empty table. That seemed odd for a groom. I walked through several tables, meandering a bit, and then sat down at the table next to him. I immediately pulled out my phone and pretended to read. I might as well check up on this guy since I was sitting here. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do. And if he was just an asshole, then I’d drop it, and quit giving Loren a hard time.

  Then Douglas’ phone buzzed and he picked it up. He turned in his seat, looking around the room, but he only seemed to look to see where his wife was. He didn’t look at me at all.

  This prick had probably grown up so privileged that he didn’t even think to cover his tracks. Unlike many of my targets, he didn’t understand self preservation, because he didn’t know what true desperation looked like. He’d never been hungry, or poor, or threatened, not really.

  Sometimes people like that ignored anyone they considered beneath them. Or anything who they considered ‘the help.’ And for a man like Douglas, a bodyguard would be an employee, not equal.

  I got a little closer. He didn’t even turn to look at me. Amatuer. It would have been nice if I’d had a little of my tactical gear. But I didn’t, so I’d have to do my spying the old-fashioned way.

  “Yeah,” he said into the phone. “I haven’t yet. No. Not time.” He pulled at his ear a few times. “No. I told you, I’ll have it soon.” His voice grew tense. “You don’t have to worry. I said I’d have it.”

  What the hell was he talking about?

  The voice on the other end of the phone grew louder. “Goddamn it, you little shit. I told you I needed it today.”

  Douglas ducked his head and ran his hand back and forth over his neck. “I know. I’ll have it. Just stop freaking out. I have a plan,” he said.

  Just then a swell of music grew, and I couldn’t hear the other voice any longer, but apparently the conversation was over. Douglas pocketed his phone and got up from the table, leaving a plate of shrimp untouched.

  When he turned around, he was all wild-eyed and his gaze went straight past me. He got up and he made a beeline away from the reception.

  I got up, a little slower. I took my plate with me, walking slowly to the trash can and dumping it. Then I pulled my phone out and put it to my right ear. I stuck one hand over my other ear, and I frowned, knowing that I’d look like someone who couldn’t hear his voicemail.

  In the distance, I kept an eye on Douglas as he went into the hotel. He climbed the staircase and went to his room. I followed him, and through the door, I could hear him making another phone call. I examined the door knob. It was a regular door with a regular lock, just like the one Loren and I had. The inn prided itself on using it’s original features, which meant no electronic locks.

  Not wanting to be caught lurking in the hall, I went back to the room I was sharing with Loren and rummaged through her stuff in the bathroom until I found a heavy-duty hair pin. I put my phone back to my ear, and strolled down the hallway.

  I quickly picked the lock to the room next door to Douglas’s and went inside. I picked up one of the coffee cups that hadn’t been used and held it to the door. It was such a basic trick, but it really did work to amplify the sound of voices and I’d used it more than once when I didn’t have equipment.

  I could hear Douglas talking. Now that he was in his room, he wasn’t even trying to keep his voice down. “You said he wouldn’t squeal. Now you’re telling me that he’s threatening to turn us in if we don’t do what he wants?”

  What the hell? Someone was threatening him?

  There was a long pause, and then Douglas was talking even louder, and even faster. “I know I said that. But I was wrong, okay? There were complications.”

  I heard him make a loud sighing sound. “I have an idea. Meet me at Crystal Lake Point in twenty minutes.”

  That was only about five miles from here. Whatever he was up to, it must have been pretty fucking important for him to be worrying about it on his wedding day. I thought about following him, but I didn’t want to leave Loren here, unprotected.

  I needed to tell her that something was up with her cousin’s weird-ass husband. This time I just had to find a way to make her listen.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Loren<
br />
  After snapping what might have been thousands of photos, I needed a break. I told my cousin I was handing the camera over to my mother for safe keeping, who would delight in taking a few off-center photos, and then I went to find Jackson.

  After his bizarre tirade about Douglas, I hadn’t talked to him again. He’d disappeared for a few minutes, and then he’d come back, glaring daggers at anyone who came near him.

  I slipped my hand around his trim waist, which looked really good with the expensive cut of his suit. “Come on, my fake boyfriend, let’s dance.”

  “I thought you had to work all night,” he grumbled.

  I kissed his cheek. “You’re grumpy just like a real boyfriend would be.” He did crack a smile at that, so I wrapped my arms around his waist, tugging him toward the dance floor as the band started up a slow song. “I’ve got a reprieve from taking photos.”

  “For how long?” he asked.

  “Fifteen minutes.”

  “Not very much of a reprieve.”

  “So let’s take advantage. We’re on the coast, at a wedding, and it’s very romantic. It’s the perfect time for a fake boyfriend to dance with his fake girlfriend,” I said.

  He laughed, and his sexy chuckle turned me on, just like most of the things he did. He followed me onto the dance floor, and then he took over, just like he did in bed. And I liked it, a lot. We didn’t do any fancy dance steps, but he knew how to sway to the music at the right beat. I laid my head on his shoulder, and his hand came to rest on my lower back.

  “If I pull you any closer, these pants are going to burst,” he said into my ear.

  “Turned on again?” I asked.

  “Around you? Always.”

  I pressed my body a little closer and brushed against his erection. “We could sneak off into the woods.”

  “I do like fucking you against a tree,” he said. But then he stepped back. “I need to talk to you. I was just about to come find you when you showed up to dance, but I figured dancing would look more natural.”

  “Find me for what? This isn’t going to be more nonsense about my cousin’s brand new husband, is it?” I knew Jackson was a trained soldier. I didn’t want to discount that, or disrespect him. But he’d been having nightmares. What if he was just projecting, and being paranoid? “Because I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Not wanting to hear it doesn’t change the truth,” he said.

  “Don’t patronize me. You know how I feel about that.”

  He ground his teeth. “Then be an adult and listen to me.”

  That stung too. But I would hear him out, just to prove that I wasn’t being childish and refusing to even hear what he had to say. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  He pulled me closer. “Don’t react like you’re mad. It’ll draw anyone’s eye. Dance with me again.”

  I resisted rolling my eyes. The music sped up to a hit song from the sixties, and people started doing their best imitations of popular dances from that time period, like the shimmy and the twist, so there was a whole lot more commotion on the dance floor. That ought to make Jackson happy. I really did adore him, but he was like a dog with a bone with his fixation on Douglas.

  I knew he wasn’t jealous of Douglas. He just wasn’t that kind of person. But he had to give it a rest or we wouldn’t survive the next few days here.

  Maybe he didn’t want to be here, and this fixation was a distraction. No. Jackson wasn’t that petty. At least not on purpose. I really did believe that he thought Douglas was a problem. But none of it made sense.

  We sidled up close to each other, and I began to do a modified version of the Watusi, so I could hear what he had to say. “Okay, go.”

  “Douglas is involved in something shady. Possibly illegal, but I’m not sure yet.”

  “Like what? How do you know?” I asked. I began to wave my arms in the air with the beat.

  Jackson danced too, and he had really good rhythm, and I'd have enjoyed dancing more if we weren’t talking about my cousin’s husband. “I watched him. And I listened to what he was saying, but I need more intel.”

  “Intel?” I asked. I could hardly believe what I was hearing. “This isn’t a mission, Jackson. You aren’t deployed.”

  “I realize that. But it’s my job to keep you safe.”

  “You’re my fake boyfriend,” I said. “Not my real one.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact. If I was your real boyfriend, I’d have already gotten you away from this farce of a wedding.”

  I stopped dancing. “Gotten me away?” I asked. “You can’t tell me what to do. Real boyfriend or fake.”

  Jackson stopped dancing too, and faced me head on. “You need to quit acting like a spoiled kid and listen to me. Something is going on with him.”

  Now people were starting to look at us, and not just for our great dancing skills. “Do not call me spoiled. I’m here to work, and to take pictures of my cousin’s special day. I respect your service Jackson, but you need help. You’re paranoid, and you need to leave, now.”

  His eyes shuttered as I said the word paranoid. I felt bad, but I was pissed. He had no right to call me a spoiled kid. After everything I’d shared with him, he could at least understand that.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “I said I was going to protect you and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Then I’ll get security to make you leave.” Even as the words left my mouth, I felt terrible. I was acting like a spoiled baby. A rich spoiled baby who used her parents’ money and power to get what she wanted.

  Jackon’s jaw went stiff and his eyes narrowed. But he didn’t say another word. He just turned and left.

  “Jackson!” I called out. I regretted making him leave immediately. I was such an asshole, and I was acting like every part of my family that I hated.

  My cousin came prancing over in her stylish cream wedding dress. “Trouble in paradise?”

  I would have liked to slap the smug smile off of her face, but I’d already lost Jackson. I didn’t want to lose the rest of my family too.

  “Nope. None at all,” I said. I forced a smile. “I’m going to get my camera and get some photos of your dad doing the twist.”

  On my way to find my mother and get my camera, I looked everywhere for Jackson. But I couldn’t find him. He really had left. Which is what I’d asked him to do.

  It served me right.

  I had plenty to take my mind off of it. I’d already gotten family group shots, and photos of the bride and all the bridesmaids, but I still had to take photos of the groom and all the groomsmen, and I wanted to get a picture of every single person who attended while they danced.

  I looked around. I hadn’t seen Douglas in a little while, and I needed to find him. The grooms often complained, but in the end they had fun with the silly shots. Even though he was a serious person, I figured Douglas would have fun with his photos too, especially if he thought it would make Marie happy.

  Someone at this stinking wedding deserved to be happy, because it sure wasn’t me. Not now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jackson

  What the fuck had just happened?

  My pretend girlfriend had just booted me from her asshole cousin’s wedding.

  That’s what you get for messing around with a twenty-two year old. What did you think was going to happen?

  I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. Apparently I’d thought she was going to suddenly mature because we were sleeping together. That obviously hadn’t happened.

  I got that she didn’t want her perfect little world disrupted, and she didn’t want to be told what to do. No one did.

  But she didn’t have a fucking clue about what she didn’t know.

  Well fuck that. She might have thrown hissy fit like a big baby, but I wasn’t leaving this wedding. I’d rather her be safe than happy, and I was going to stay right here, and keep an eye on her. Because despite whatever she thought, she wasn’t up for the task. Not around th
ugs like Douglas.

  It was easy to blend in here, with all the self-absorbed rich people and many servants they employed. I hadn’t seen Douglas here for sometime now.

  I kept a close eye on Loren. It was easy at first, because she was taking photos on the dance floor, but then she began to pull couples out, two at a time, and take a few snapshots of them together.

  Then I couldn’t see her at all.

  I thought about stopping the wedding, and alerting them all. I thought about getting her mother, or her father’s security involved. But I didn’t really trust any of them, not with Loren’s safety.

  I was better off working alone. The less panic in a group, the better. Before I sounded the alarm, or left the wedding to look for her, I methodically searched the crowd, looking for her shiny dress.

  There was still no sign of Douglas either.

  Fuck.

  That was it. I was going to start searching the perimeter. There was enough daylight left for me to see the tracks on certain parts of the group, but so many people had trampled along that I wasn’t sure it would help. I walked a circle around the reception tent, and then around the inn, but Loren was nowhere to be found. I headed toward the woods where I’d found the guy lurking during the rehearsal.

  Nothing.

  I didn’t find a single person. And I didn’t find Loren.

  I pulled out my phone. I had a buddy who did private security work in Portland, Oregon. He’d been a Ranger, but he’d retired a few years back. He was great at the private investigation side of things. He answered on the first ring.

  “Jackson!” he said in greeting.

  “Hey man. Sorry to be short, but I need your assistance.”