by Frankie Love
“I wouldn’t call what I’m doing work. I’m having an amazing time.” I pause, wondering if I should tell her how I’ve fallen for Landon ... but I’m not ready for her response.
I have a pretty good idea of what that will be. She’s the only one who knows the truth. We had enough disagreements about it right after Sophia was born, and I made her swear to never say another word about it. Ever.
And she has listened to my request.
But I’ve also never brought a man home, never fallen in love. Never got fake-engaged. Never wanted to be real engaged.
And now I can’t keep running. Now I need to clean up the mess I made a long time ago.
But I want to talk it through with Landon before I say anything to my mom. Because if Landon ends things with me once he learns that I’m a liar and a cheat, then I will have riled my mom up for nothing.
“Thank you for everything, Mom.”
“When are you coming home again?” she asks. “Was it Sunday or Monday?”
“I’m actually not sure. I’ll ask Landon and get back to you. Did you need me back at a certain time?”
“Honey, we both know I have nothing going on besides Bravo television. I think we’ll be okay.”
“I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
When I walk downstairs for breakfast, I’m slightly embarrassed by the time of day; it’s already ten in the morning. But when I enter the sitting room, I realize I have nothing to blush over. The place is empty except for Helen.
She sits with a book in her lap, and smiles warmly at me when I walk in.
“Am I interrupting?” I ask.
“Oh, not at all,” she says, closing her book. “You kids must have had a fun night; this house is as quiet as a mouse.”
“It was a good time,” I say, sitting in the chair beside her. “Though, I was surprised when I woke this morning. I had a note from Landon that he had to leave on business?”
“He did? I don’t know anything of it.”
“Really?” I pull back in surprise. “Where did he go then?”
She shrugs delicately. “I’m not sure, Claire, but he said he’ll be back tomorrow, and I’m sure he will stay true to that.”
“Right.” I smile tightly. I so wanted to talk to him today, to get everything off my chest, so that, however we move forward with our relationship, we can at least stop being dishonest with everyone.
I hate sitting here with Helen now, knowing she thinks Landon and I are something we aren’t.
At least not exactly.
Because while we aren’t really engaged, we are really in love.
Which is why him leaving like this is so strange.
Landon
When Ace’s private plane lands, I step into the desert air with a grin. McQueen and Jack are waiting for me. I’m fucking glad Ace called them, because we have a lot of shit to discuss.
“What the hell, man?” Jack asks, the moment I take a seat in the limo. “Ace said you fucking proposed to Claire?”
“Right. I did. But.”
“But what?”
“Okay, can I be straight with you guys? Like, you promise not to go ape-shit on me? I couldn’t tell Ace, because he’s at my parents’ place, and Claire and I want to keep this on the down-low. I mean, it won’t matter in the long run, but now–”
“Dude, just fucking say it.”
The limo is turning onto the freeway and I give the driver the address of where I need to go first.
“Okay, so we aren’t really engaged. She’s my fake fiancée.”
I explain the deal to them, and they shake their heads the whole time.
“Man,” Jack says. “Claire seems so straight-laced, so put together ... I can’t believe she agreed to this.”
“Well, I told her I’d give her a quarter of a million dollars if we pulled it off.”
“So what’s the problem?” McQueen asks.
“Two things. One, my dad’s company is bankrupt, as I told Ace to explain.”
“He did,” Jack says.
“And, two, Claire and I fell in love, for fucking real.”
“You’re not messing with us?” Jack asks.
“No. Swear to God. But here’s the kicker: Claire has a daughter.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” McQueen asks, punching me in the arm. “Shit, you are so over your head, bro.”
I shrug. “I disagree. I love that woman, and her having a daughter doesn’t change that.”
“Love conquers all, right?” Jack shakes his head. “Fuck, man, I don’t know. I have a feeling nothing is as easy as that.”
“That’s just because you’re dating a fucking superstar,” I tell him. “Your judgment on how real women act is skewed.”
As I tell them this, I realize maybe I should have consulted Ace before I left.
But, fuck it, I want Claire to know I’m all in. When I return to my family’s estate with a job and house and a fucking plan for my dad’s business, she’ll know I’m the only man she needs.
The limo stops in the parking lot, and I explain my plan to McQueen and Jack.
“It’s fucking go time, bro,” McQueen says.
I take a deep breath, nodding, and then I open the door.
“Good luck,” Jack says through the open window.
I turn toward the building and knock on the door.
I don’t know what to expect. I just know I need to ask to speak to Claire’s mom alone, and then lay it out there.
I’ve never been so goddamned nervous in my life.
I’m never nervous when I’m with Claire. With her, life makes sense. But right now, I don’t have my woman by my side.
I knock. The door opens after a moment, and a woman who looks a few decades older than Claire opens the door.
“Hello?” she asks, eyebrows raised.
“Eva?” I ask, remembering the name Claire told me was her mother’s. I reach out my hand to her. “I’m Landon, a friend of your daughter?”
She takes it, shaking it slowly. “Aren’t you supposed to be with her, in England? For work?” She lets go of my hand and tilts her head to the side, trying to understand. She’s a trim woman, with cropped blonde hair and those same green eyes Claire has.
“I was.”
“Is she here?” Eva asks. “Because I just spoke with her earlier and she never mentioned....”
“No,” I say, needing to clarify. “She’s still in England. I came over on my own, because I wanted to speak with you.”
“Me?” She laughs. “What do I have to do with anything?”
Behind her, I see a flash of blonde hair and a small girl calling for her Gram.
“Gram, come back, come play,” the girl calls from down the hall.
Sophia.
I didn’t see her face, or meet her, but her voice proves she is in fact real. Really Claire’s daughter.
I swallow. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now. No second-guessing. No hesitation.
“Could I speak with you a moment?” I ask Eva. “Privately?”
“Give me a minute, okay? I’ll get Sophia on a show.” Eva turns back into the condo, and I hear her helping Sophia with the television.
She returns after a moment. “Bubble Guppies.” She shrugs as if I have any clue what those words mean. “She’s obsessed with the show.”
I nod, now understanding. Knowing I have an awful lot to learn, if Claire will have me.
“You have me worried,” Eva says, keeping the door slightly ajar and stepping out of the house. “Is everything okay, truly?”
“Everything is more than fine. The truth is, I’ve fallen in love with your daughter. Completely. And she’s in love with me.”
Eva lets out a small humph, as if completely taken back. Which I’m sure she is.
“Claire, and you. In love?”
“Is it so impossible to believe?”
“Well, sort of. I mean, it’s Claire. She doesn’t do relationships.”
At this, Eva shakes her head, arms crossed.
“Does Claire know you’re here?” When I shake my head, she adds, “Has she spoken to you about getting married?”
Not wanting to tell her about the fake engagement, I shake my head again. We haven’t spoken about getting married for real. Only the fake double wedding.
“Listen, if you love Claire, and Claire really loves you ... I think you could talk to her about getting married yourself. Not me.”
“I know. Of course I’ll talk to Claire, ask her properly. But the thing is, I came back to Vegas to get some business in order, and I thought coming to you would be a thoughtful gesture. I know how much her family means to her.”
“Right,” Eva says uncomfortably, waving her hands in front of her. “Well, the thing is, you can’t marry Claire.”
“Of course I can,” I say defensively. Always so fucking defensive.
I just want someone to say yes, you can. You can do this. Instead it’s always that I’m not bloody enough. I’m tired if it.
“I’m capable of being her husband, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m going to go get myself a bloody house right after this. I’m closing on an investment property for a proper business. I can take care of her and Sophia. I can do this.”
Eva face softens, and she presses her hand to my arm. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t say you weren’t capable of being her partner. You seem nice, and you certainly seem to love my daughter. Which is everything I want for her.”
“Then why? Why can’t I marry her?”
“Because, Landon. Claire is already married.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Landon
Her words hit me in in the chest. Hard.
Claire is fucking married?
“What are you talking about?” I ask Claire’s mom, Eva.
We’re standing outside her condo, and she has a pained expression on her face—which is a hell of a lot better than the expression on my face.
I want to hit something. Now.
“I’m sorry. I wish she would have told you, but she doesn’t talk about it. Ever. With me, or with anyone.”
“I don’t understand.” My patience in thin—not with Eva, with the situation. I need more information, faster. “You’re screwing with me, right? This is some American joke?”
“I wish it were, Landon.” She sighs, arms crossed and she shakes her head. “Look, maybe you should come inside, so we can talk properly.”
“I don’t want to intrude.”
“It’s not intruding. Sophia is fine; she’s watching her shows. Come in, have a cup of coffee, and we can talk.’
“My friends are in the car,” I tell her. “Let me tell them I’ll be a while.”
“Oh, for heavens sake, get them in the house. Don’t be rude,” Eva scolds, just like my mother would.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t ma’am me, either. I’m only forty-nine.”
I run my hands through my hair, trying to breathe. “I should call Claire.”
Eva shrugs. “Maybe. Either way, you’re welcome to come inside, or at least have your friends come inside while you call her.”
I nod, and walk back to the limo. It’s taking everything inside me not to scream.
Jack unrolls the window.
“What’s up man? You look awful. Did she ... not give you the a-ok?”
I shake my head, unable to form the words.
“Dude, you’re freaking me out,” McQueen says. “Get in the car and explain.”
“No,” I say, cracking my knuckles. “You need to come in the apartment. I think I’ll be a while.”
The guys get out of the car, and Jack places his hands on my shoulders. “Seriously, you look like shit. What did she say?”
“Claire’s married.”
“What the fuck?” McQueen shouts.
“Eva is going to explain, she said it might take a while.”
“And you had no idea?” Jack asks.
“None.” I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out and see that it’s Claire. She’s called a few times and texted a bunch. “It’s Claire.”
“You need some fucking answers.” Jack looks unsure.
I want to punch something. “Claire should have told me, right?”
“Fuck, yeah,” McQueen says. “She’s fucking playing you.”
I put my phone on silent, not knowing how I feel about any of this. Especially Claire.
The front door of the condo is slightly ajar and we step inside gingerly. “Hello?” I call out as we walk down the hallway.
“In here,” Eva says. We walk in the living room and see Sophia sitting on a sofa with a tablet in her hands. She looks up.
“Who are you?” she asks. Her lips are heart-shaped just like her mother’s, her green eyes wide and curious.
“We’re friends of your mother’s,” I tell her. “I’m Landon, and this is McQueen and Jack.”
She sets down the tablet and walks over to us. Offering a low curtsy, she says, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Sophia.”
I smile despite the fact that I feel sucker punched. How can Claire be married? Keeping her daughter a secret is one thing ... but a husband?
My heart pounds in my chest, I need to fight—go to McQueen’s gym and beat the shit out of something.
Sophia’s voice brings me back to reality.
“Are you okay, mister?” Sophia asks. “You look mad.”
“I’m good. Thank you, though.” I give her a crooked smile, the best I can manage.
“How do you know my mama?”
This riles me up even more. I know I must look like a deranged fool: nostrils flared, hands clenched. I need some information. Fast.
I need to call Claire. This can’t fucking wait.
“Give me a moment,” I tell them, leaving through the front door.
In the parking lot, I call Claire’s number. I have to hear this story from her.
Not from her mother. Not from her daughter.
From the woman I wanted to be my fucking forever.
“Landon?” she asks. “Where are you? Is everything okay?”
“Don’t. Don’t ask me those sorts of questions. I’m the one who is going to do the talking now.”
“What’s going on?” she asks again, as if she has no clue what she’s been keeping from me.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
“Actually, yeah, there is. That’s why I’ve been calling and texting. I wanted to talk to you about something really important, but then you just skipped town. Without a word. That’s not how relationships work, Landon.”
“How do they work then, Claire? Tell me exactly how relationships work. Actually, scratch that—tell me how marriages work.”
“Marriages? I don’t know how marriage works. Landon. What is going on?”
“I’m at your mother’s house.”
The call goes quiet. Good. I want her to know this is not some fucking joke. This is my life, my heart. I wanted to give her all of it.
“Why are you there, Landon?” Her voice is soft, scared.
I’m pacing the concrete lot; my shoulders are tense, my mind racing. “I’m here because I came to in Vegas to get us a fucking house. To find a proper job. To ask your mother for your bloody hand in marriage.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath, as if she’s trying to control her tears, but I don’t care about her tears right now. I just want to bloody understand.
“And do you know what your mother told me?” I ask. “When I asked to marry you, her only daughter?”
“Oh, God.”
“What the fuck, Claire? I love you. And you have a husband?” I punch the brick wall in front of me, and my hand comes away bloodied, my heart bruised. But I don’t fucking care. I just need to understand.
“I’m sorry,” she says, but everything sounds like a sharp metallic buzz. My hand is numb, my head on fire. �
��I wanted to tell you. But it isn’t like it sounds.”
“Then how is it? How is the woman I love married?”
“I haven’t seen him in five years. I never want to see him again. I should have told you, but I’m so ashamed.... And I can’t. I can’t, Landon. I can’t have you hate me for this. I never expected to fall in love. With you. I was going to tell you. You have to believe me.”
“Believe you? Trust you? I’m not sure you know what that means, Claire.”
“Listen, I should have dealt with this, but I don’t even know where he is.”
“That’s a fucking excuse.”
“No, it isn’t. I tried to get a divorce—I got papers made up, signed and everything—but then I just got so scared to face it all again. So I pretended it wasn’t real. Pretended he and I never got married. Pretended he wasn’t Sophia’s father.”
I don’t want to punch something. I want to punch someone. The person who did this to her.
“He hurt you? I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Landon, it’s not that easy.”
I snort. “Perfect. You don’t want me to off him. Sounds like maybe you’re secretly in love with him, and that’s why you’ve never cut things off.”
“I swear that’s not it,” she says, her words fierce. “I want a life with you, Landon. You’re all I want.”
“I want to believe you, Claire, but right now I feel like I would be a fool to.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I gotta go.”
“Don’t hang up like this,” she begs.
“I don’t think I have a choice.”
I hang up the phone, completely destroyed by this woman.
Claire
When he hangs up the phone, I start sobbing.
Like, heaving sobs.
I can’t believe Landon found out this way. That he found out my painful past over the phone.
I can’t believe that Landon doesn’t believe me when I say my husband means nothing. When I say Landon means the world.
Emmy and Tess must hear my crying from down the hall, because they’re in my bedroom in minutes.
“Sweetie, what the heck is happening?” Tess asks, sitting next to me on the bed, rubbing my back as I cry into my hands.
