by Frankie Love
“You’re seriously making way too big of a deal out of this.”
At that moment I want to scream. I want to strangle Landon for being such a guy.
“No, I’m not,” I whisper. “And it is so like you to minimize this. To not realize the implications. Even if I was okay with them knowing about our scheme, you think it’s smart to let Ace and Emmy and Tess all in on our plan? While they’re here at your parents’ house? Someone will accidentally let the cat out of the bag.”
Landon fills his cheeks with air, realizing what I’m saying is true.
He exhales. “Fuck. Sorry. I shouldn’t have called them without asking you.”
“Now I have to lie. More.”
“Not about everything,” he says.
And for a stupid second I think maybe he means I don’t have to pretend about the engagement. That he really wants to be with me.
And for a stupider moment I want him to say that.
But then he opens his mouth again. “If they’re your real friends, they’ll forgive you for lying about Sophia.”
I nod, hoping he’s right.
“Claire,” he says. “About last night–”
“Don’t,” I stop him. “We both said a lot, and I can’t deal with that while Emmy and Tess are right there in the bedroom.”
“Later, then, we’ll talk?” His eyes plead with me, and I know this knot in my stomach needs to unfurl.
“Okay,” I tell him. “After the family meeting we can talk it out. I’m sure we’ll know more by then anyway.”
“Nothing my dad says is going to change how I feel about wanting to be your man.”
“Landon.” I close my eyes, pressing my hands to his chest. “I can’t right now.”
He doesn’t argue. He just takes my hands and kisses my knuckles, smiling despite the fact that I’m walking away.
That alone melts me in ways it shouldn’t. With him, right now, I need to stay resolved.
Once Landon leaves and it’s just Tess, Emmy, and me, I hand them each a mimosa.
“I’m going to tell you something that might shock you. So drink that while I talk, okay?”
“There is nothing you can say that is more shocking than the fact you are here in England, with Landon, engaged,” Tess says coolly.
“No,” I say, shaking my head, and then clasping my hands together to stop them from shaking, too. “There is.”
“What?” Emmy asks.
“I’m not who you think I am, not entirely.” I forge ahead, knowing I just have to get this over with. “I have a five-year-old daughter.”
For a second the room is silent, and then they’re asking questions all at once.
“Wait, what?” Tess asks. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“You’re a mom?” Emmy sets down her drink. “I’m so confused, Claire, what the actual fuck?”
So I explain. I tell them about why I kept my personal life under wraps at first, and how then too much time had passed to tell them without it being weird. And how I didn’t want it to be about me when Emmy’s sister was in the hospital. And how I’m self-sufficient and don’t want them to judge me.
And how, deep down, I know if they know what I really am—a mom—the friendship will change.
It already has, because both their eyes are filled with tears.
I’ve ruined this.
“I can’t believe you’d hide your kid from us. Like ... are we not good enough to know her or something?” Emmy asks.
I realize the story she is telling herself about my secret is that she isn’t good enough, when the truth is I wanted to keep Sophia to myself because I am selfish.
Because I’m scared.
“We’ve only been friends a few months.” I feel like such a mess, still in my pajamas, not ready for the day at all—and especially not ready to be confronted by my friends. “It isn’t about either of you. You are more than I deserve.”
“Then what is it really about?” Tess asks.
“It’s about me. About me not liking my place in life. I love Sophia. So much. But sometimes I feel stuck. Like the life I have isn’t one I chose.” I bury my hands in my face, ashamed at what I’ve admitted to them.
“But you chose Landon? He knows about Sophia, right?” Tess asks.
“Yeah, and when did you fall in love? I just ... Claire, this is a crazy amount of information to try to absorb,” Emmy says, and I agree with her.
Mostly because half of it is still untrue.
I’m still stuck in my lies.
I try to move ahead using half-truths instead. “Landon proposed at the airport. It was sudden and unexpected, but his family thinks we’ve been together a few months, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell them that it hasn’t been that long.”
“How long has it been?” Emmy asks. “When did you start seeing one another?”
Telling her the truth is my only choice. “We hooked up after your wedding. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to mess things up in the group if Landon and I were a one time thing.”
“Okay, I can forgive you ... I guess,” Emmy says. “I mean, my feelings are really hurt, and I don’t get it. Get you.” It’s quiet for a moment, then she asks, “Who is Sophia’s father?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” There is no way I can get into that with them today, on top of everything else. I swallow, not able to meet Emmy’s eyes. “It’s the past. Five years in the past. Not now.”
“Ohmigosh,” Tess says, completely disregarding the serious turn the conversation took. “That night of the poker party at Emmy’s penthouse, Landon didn’t just take you home, did he? You guys were having a secret sex date, weren’t you?” Tess smacks me, already moving on from Sophia.
And I get it.
She would think talking about Landon and me is a lot more fun than discussing my five-year-old. Because our lives are so completely different. Landon thinks the two parts of my life can be merged, and merged with his. But he is so over his head. He has no clue.
And neither do I.
Landon
It’s really fucking simple. Get my dad’s company, therefore securing a legitimate job, and prove to Claire that I can be the sort of man she needs.
Because right now the only thing standing in our way is her fear.
Because, shit, I’m all in with her.
“You proposed?” Ace asks, stunned. The girls are in my bedroom, and I’m walking out of the house with Ace, needing to get fresh air like I never have before.
Running my hands through my hair, I sit down on the back steps. Ace paces the yard.
“This is all kinds of insane,” he says. “When did you fall for her?”
“At your bloody wedding. It’s your fault; you’re the one who told me to ask her to dance. I was done for.”
“Shit.”
“You know, Claire has a daughter? She kept it from everyone, the last few months.”
“What the fuck?” Ace stops and looks at me, hard. “What do you know about this girl? I mean, really?”
“I know enough.”
“I’m not sure, bro. You already proposed. This is fast. Like, faster than Emmy and I. And Claire kept her kid a secret. Who does that?”
I don’t tell him it’s a fake engagement, because Claire asked me not to. But the truth is, I don’t want to tell him it’s fake because I want it to be real.
“You’re really gonna get high and mighty about secrets?” I flip him off. “You hid the fact that your name is Adrian Genova from us for five fucking years.”
“I know. But I had good reason.”
“It’s pretty fucking relative, though, isn’t it?” I ask.
“This is insane.” Ace sits next to me. “What is Claire’s crisis?”
“She knew she needed to come clean about her daughter.”
“You really ready to be a father?” Ace asks.
“I don’t know. But shit, I’d be anything for Claire. Right now, though, I just need to get
my father to give me his company.”
It’s like something connects in Ace’s mind, and I know he’s putting pieces together.
“Fuck you, man,” Ace says. “Does Claire know this is just a way to prove to your dad you’ve grown up? Because you can’t fucking hurt her, just for some money.”
“It’s not just some money, Ace; it’s The King’s Diamond we’re talking about. But don’t worry. It’s real. I’m gonna marry that girl.”
“You better not mess with her or I swear to God it’s over, between all of us. You can’t recover from this kind of mess. I need to trust you, Landon.”
“You can trust me.”
Ace nods, and I do, too. I mean everything I’ve said.
I’m gonna prove to Claire what kind of man I am. And then I’m gonna marry her.
The lunch buffet is awkward.
Fiona tries to discuss her wedding plans with Claire and Emmy, but neither of those girls are as caught up in flowers and venues as she is. Mostly because Emmy is already married and Claire is only fake getting married.
Tess is the only one who seems to want to engage. And she isn’t engaged.
Geoffrey looks agitated with everything my father says, and Mum gets pulled away with a call from the Garden Society.
Ace looks at Geoffrey with appropriate disdain and picks at his fish until finally Mum returns and Father announces the family summit can begin.
“Your friends need to leave,” Geoffrey tells me. “It’s sensitive family matters we are discussing.”
“Everyone is welcome; I don’t want any secrets,” Dad says. This piques my interest. Combined with Geoffrey’s seemingly underhanded comments to Dad, and their obvious disagreement about the family business, I’m starting to get a little anxious about this meeting.
“This is such bullshit.” Geoffrey clenches his jaw and I watch as Fiona grips his hand.
“Actually,” Ace speaks up. “We’ve had a long night and we’ll check into a hotel for a few hours. Maybe you can call us when everything is more settled?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll get you set up in some guest rooms,” Mum says. “Come with me.” Tess, Emmy, and Ace follow my mum out without argument.
“I’m going to get some papers in my study prepared,” Dad says. “Will you four join me there in ten minutes, with your mother?”
We nod, the mood suddenly tense. Fiona and Claire exchange a look, and it’s the first moment something other than hostility has seemed to move between them.
Geoffrey walks to the bar and begins pouring Scotch into a tumbler. “Want some?” he asks.
My eyes narrow in on him. I can’t think of the last time Geoffrey was anything but short and sharp.
“Sure,” I say, walking toward him tentatively. “So, do you know what this meeting is really about?” I take the glass from his hand.
He snorts. “Yeah, I know what the meeting is bloody about. Don’t know why he asked you to come here and discuss it, though.”
The last thing I need is for my brother to tell me I’m not good enough. That he already has the company in the bag. At least let me fight for it.
“I’m so tired of this bullshit,” I tell him. “When will you stop holding my past against me? I’ve grown up, and have just as good a chance as you to be Dad’s successor. I’m his son, too, you know.”
“Successor?” Geoffrey looks perplexed. “Look, I don’t know what you’re smoking these days–goodness knows I tried to find out when you arrived. But you are totally off your rocker with this one.”
“Was that the same time you looked for shit on Claire? Enough, Geoffrey. Just let us be. I don’t know why you’re so intrigued by my personal affairs, but it’s pretty fucked-up to pull Claire into this, too.”
Mum walks back in, and Claire and Fiona shoot us furtive looks. “We’re going to the den now,” Fiona says. “Will you boys be joining us?”
I add another inch of Scotch to my glass and follow Geoffrey out of the dining room.
We file into the den and find Dad sitting at his large oak desk, glasses on. To my surprise, papers are everywhere. Dad has always been fairly organized, and I suppose I thought things might be tidy and in order before he passed the business on.
“So, everyone is here, and the dreaded conversation can be had at last,” Dad says. “Sit, sit,” he directs. We find seats in the leather chairs of his massive study, and I pull Claire’s hand into mine.
“Why did you tell Landon you were choosing a successor?” Geoffrey starts before Dad can say anything. “Why do you insist on creating more drama?”
“Don’t talk to Dad like that,” I say, surprised by my brother’s tone.
“Oh, God, Landon, you have no bloody clue.” Geoffrey leans back, eyes closed.
“I wanted both my sons here, is that so terrible? And that was the only way I could tempt Landon. It worked, didn’t it?” Dad asks Geoffrey. “I wanted him to be here, considering....”
“Considering what?” I ask. Claire’s hand tightens around mine; she’s begging me to keep my cool. “You are being such a prick, Geoffrey.”
“No, he isn’t,” Dad says. “Not entirely.”
Claire’s eyes meet mine, and we’re both obviously confused. Fiona is looking at her hands and Mum is, too, not wanting to look anyone in the eyes.
Shit, everyone knows something Claire and I don’t.
“What is it, then?” I ask, my voice rising. “You two,” I say, pointing to Dad and Geoffrey, “are bickering incessantly about the business. Dad, you’ve brought me here under apparent false pretenses. Mum just wants everyone happy, and somehow Fiona finally got an engagement ring, after asking for five bloody years.”
“Just stop fighting,” Mum cries.
I shake my head, furious. “It would be easy to stop if Geoffrey didn’t do things like hire an investigator to look into my business the moment I arrived.”
“Well, I wouldn’t do it if I trusted you. God, Landon, for ten years you’ve been a flake, and we can’t have that sort of drama around when the shit hits the fan. I needed to be sure there wasn’t something bigger brewing with you. The press is going to be all over us as soon as the truth of the situation is revealed. The last thing we need is some lewd story of you in the center of it.”
“What shit?” I ask, incredulous at the code he is speaking in. “What fan? What bloody situation?”
The room goes quiet, and a silent conversation takes place between Mum and Dad and Geoffrey and Fiona.
Finally, Dad speaks.
“I know Geoffrey and I fight ... but the truth is, Geoffrey has been our saving grace the past two years. And things have been tricky.”
“Tricky?” Geoffrey guffaws. “Is that what it’s called? Dad, you live in a fantasy land. You and Mum are going to be sorely disappointed, when you’ve traded everything we have right now for a flat in a dodgy part of town. You’ll wish you’d gone with my plan, when everything else is gone.”
“Gone?” Claire asks. “What will be gone?”
Fiona looks up at her, her face sour and clearly upset. “Geoffrey is trying to keep The King’s Diamond from going bankrupt.”
“Bankrupt?” My voice betrays my absolute shock. “The company is going bankrupt?”
“It already is,” Dad says.
Chapter Twenty-One
Claire
I’m not money hungry. I mean, yes I’m here at the castle because of the potential paycheck … but my entire life doesn’t typically revolve around cash flow.
But for this family, money defines them.
I could earn a lot more money if I worked different hours of the day, but being home with Sophia has always meant more than a bigger paycheck.
Except for when Landon offered me this proposition. Because getting paid two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to be his fake fiancée was a chance at a jackpot. It would be like winning the lottery. It would change everything. So, yes … in this singular instance money means more than being home.
No matter how convincing Landon and I are … there will be no chunk of change to take home.
There is no money, period.
So what the hell am I still doing here?
Landon’s dad, Arthur, seems to have admitted defeat; his head rests in his hands as if he can’t bear to look at us.
Landon doesn’t hide his emotion. He’s livid. He keeps making these incredulous sighs that aren’t helping anything. His mother, Helen, sits wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
Geoffrey and Fiona have their faces pinched, tight and disapproving.
I’m trying not to hyperventilate. I left my daughter—traveled across the world—for a lie. I feel like a fool.
But as my eyes meet Landon’s it’s clear that, besides being angry, he’s also embarrassed. He looks away from me as fast as he can, which is something that has never happened before. Usually it’s impossible to break from his gaze.
“Is everything really gone?” he asks his dad, disbelieving. “Because the house, the property, the staff, everything appears unchanged.”
“The business is a separate entity from the family estate,” Geoffrey explains, not letting Arthur get in a word. “Mum and Dad are well-secured; they’ve worked hard all their life, invested well. Even without the business, they can continue living here using their savings, or downsize and allow more money to be in their will after they’ve passed away. They’ll be fine.”
“Can’t they leverage the castle?” Landon asks.
“They could, but Mum and Dad don’t want to risk the house. It’s the business that’s dying. The business that is dead.”
“Not dead,” Arthur interjects.
“It’s true, Landon. It is nearly dead—we can hang on for a few more months, but we’ve got to prepare for the worst,” Geoffrey says. “Look, I wish the news were better, and I’ve been working my ass off to keep things afloat. Ask Fiona. I work fourteen-hour days so that Dad and Mum can continue living a fantasy. But it’s done. Dad doesn’t want to take the business into a viable model—”
