One Hot Fake: An Accidental Fake Marriage Romance

by Sarah J. Brooks

  Just thinking of Declan makes me smile. If I had any doubts about him, they are slowly ebbing away. I’ve also had another session with Dr. Frost this week, and it was another eye-opener. I’m learning things about myself that are shocking but enlightening me.

  The phone on my desk shrills, bringing me back to the present. I pick it up and smile when I hear the voice of one of my new clients, Jane. She’s sweet and soft-spoken, and so far, she’s made everything fun and easy. Two weeks into working together and we’ve already settled on a venue and agreed on the décor and other small but important details.

  “What can I do for you, my dear?” I ask her after we’ve exchanged pleasantries.

  She lets out a nervous laugh. “You’re going to think we’re the weirdest couple,” she begins. “We need a little help with something. I have five bridesmaids, right? That means Bob needs five groomsmen?”

  “That would be ideal, yes,” I say, unsure where the conversation is headed.

  “Well, Bob has no groomsmen,” she says.

  “Oh,” I say. I’ve never come across such a situation in all my years of working as a wedding planner.

  “So, we were wondering, can you help us?” she says. “Find groomsmen, that is.”

  “Sure,” I say defaulting to my automatic response when I’m asked for help.

  It helps also that Jane and Bob are such a sweet couple. I want to make sure that their wedding is a success. “I’ll get back to you on this. Don’t worry; everything will be fine. We’ll think of something.”

  She lets out a sigh of relief and gushes her gratitude.

  After I disconnect the phone, beads of sweat form on my forehead. Why do you do this to yourself? But I love a challenge.

  I tap my pencil on the table as I wrack my brain. Friends. No. Asking five male friends to be groomsmen for a man they don’t know is crossing the boundaries of friendship. Even free booze wouldn’t lure them unless they were college boys.

  My pulse quickens as an idea begins to form in my mind. Hire. Actors. This is LA, after all. I bang the table. “Bingo.”

  Grinning, I reach for my phone and scroll through the contacts list until I reach my friend Amelia’s number. I hit call and wait for her to answer.

  “Marian, it’s going to rain today,” she exclaims.

  I laugh with delight. “It’s been too long.” We catch up for three minutes, and then I explain to her what I need. Amelia is an agent, and if there’s anyone who can help me find decent-looking actors to be groomsmen, it’s her.

  “Easy peasy,” she says. “And you’re in luck. I have a few who came in this morning to audition. You can swing by in the next hour and have your pick.”

  I clap my hands together. “Perfect. I’ll be there.”

  I can’t stop grinning as I get on with my to-do list. There’s nothing like solving a problem in one swoop.

  Just as I’m about to leave the office, my cell phone rings. My heart skips a beat when I see Mrs. Carter’s name. Is she calling to cancel? I can’t see any other reason for her to call when we’re meeting in an hour or so.

  “Hello,” I say, trepidation in my voice.

  “Marian, this is Mrs. Carter,” she says in her confident, bossy voice. “I’ve finished my errands early, and now I’m standing outside what I believe are your offices.”

  “What? You’re here,” I jump from my chair and go to the window. I peer out, but of course, I can’t see under the awning. “Do you want to come up?”

  It’s sweet of her to come all the way to my office.

  “No. I’ll wait for you down here. We can have an early lunch.” She disconnects the phone, and I stare at my cell phone in disbelief. I swallow down feelings of hurt.

  I guess it’s too much to expect that my mother-in-law would want to see where I work. Maybe even meet my colleagues? I grab my handbag, and as I go down the stairs, my phone vibrates with a text. I reach for it and quickly scan the message from Amelia.

  You are going to love your new groomsmen.

  I stop mid-stair. What an idiot, I completely forgot about my appointment with Amelia. “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. What am I going to do? What will I do with Mrs. Carter?

  There’s only one thing to do, I decide as I continue descending the stairs.

  “Hello,” I say to her with a bright smile. “Welcome to my neck of the woods.”

  She manages a tight smile. My enthusiasm goes down a notch. This woman doesn’t like me, and she’s determined not to like me.

  “Hello yourself,” she says and keeps her hands wrapped around her oversize handbag. “Where shall we go for lunch? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with these parts of the city.”

  The implication is that my offices are located in a not so nice part of the city, which is complete bull. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I have an appointment before we go for lunch. I thought we could go together. You might enjoy it.” Fat chance.

  She frowns. “I hope it won’t take long. I have a lot to do before I go back to Santa Monica.”

  “It won’t,” I tell her as we walk to the parking lot. Amelia is the busiest person I know, which means we’ll be in and out of there in a flash.

  I hadn’t told Declan that I’m meeting his mom for lunch. I want to surprise him later. I know he’ll appreciate the gesture, and maybe just maybe, Mrs. Carter and I can forge a relationship. A glance at her pursed lips, and I wonder if my goals are too lofty.

  On the five-minute drive to Amelia’s office, Mrs. Carter does not say a word until we get out of the car.

  “We could have walked,” she says.

  “Yes, but the restaurant I’ve booked us for lunch is on the outskirts of town,” I explain.

  She nods, and we make our way into the building. Amelia’s office is on the third floor on top of the theatre. We take an elevator, which opens up into a huge space with wooden flooring that is the audition room.

  Several young men are sprawled on various chairs and couches arranged along the walls. Amelia sees me from where she’s standing near the window talking to someone, and she comes over. We fall into each other’s arms, and then she holds me at arms’ length to examine me.

  “Married life suits you,” she declares. “When do I get to meet this mystery man?” she demands.

  I squirm. I’d better stop her before she says something that will make Mrs. Carter dislike me even more than she does.

  “Perhaps you’d like to meet his mother first,” I say smoothly. I take Amelia’s hand and shift her so that Mrs. Carter is in her line of vision.

  Amelia steps forward, and she and Mrs. Carter shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I can tell that Amelia is a little taken aback by my showing up with my mother-in-law.

  They exchange a few pleasantries, and then Amelia leads us to a comfortable couch and calls for attention from the guys. She introduces me as her client. Then she explains what I’m looking for. Fairly decent-looking guys to be bridegrooms for a day.

  I can feel Mrs. Carter’s gaze burning into me, but I’m too busy picking the guys for the wedding. I feel like shit when I pick my five and the rest are turned away. I don’t know how Amelia does this. Half an hour after we entered, we leave Amelia’s office.

  Mrs. Carter waits until we are in the car. “Is that how weddings are done here? Isn’t the groom supposed to pick groomsmen who are his friends? How can you hire them?” She sounds genuinely horrified.

  I give her a short explanation that the groom has no groomsmen. Mrs. Carter has very definite beliefs about people, which leads me to believe that she’s led a very sheltered life.

  “I thought you’d like it here,” I tell her as I drive through to the parking lot of the garden restaurant. It has a Santa Monica beach feel as it’s surrounded by a lush garden and a huge fountain in the middle of it.

  “It looks nice,” she says.

  Inside the restaurant, the hostess takes us to our table out in the garden. We order drinks, and then ano
ther waiter appears with the menus, and we order our lunch.

  Mrs. Carter asks for a salad.

  “Is that all you’re having?” I ask her, disappointed. “The food is out of this world. You sure you don’t want to try?”

  “I’m sure,” she says.

  I’m starving, and I order a steak and buttered potatoes. Our drinks come, and when the waiter leaves, tension is tight between us, and I don’t know how to make her comfortable. It’s the most awkward lunch I’ve ever had.

  She forks her salad with more force than necessary, and when she’s halfway done, she pushes the plate away. Then she looks up at me and smiles. Relief floods me. Maybe she’s decided to try and make this work.

  “We missed you last week when Declan came home for dinner,” she says.

  I wrack my brain. Declan never mentioned dinner with his parents. She laughs softly. “That was silly of me. He wouldn’t have, now would he, considering that we were having dinner with Ruby.”

  I walk straight into the trap. “Who is Ruby?”

  “Ruby is … sorry, was Declan’s fiancée. An old friend whose parents are our friends too.” A triumphant look comes over her face, but I don’t care.

  All I can think is that Declan went to dinner at his parents with his ex in attendance, and he didn’t mention it. Pain spreads across my chest. I suddenly lose my appetite and push my plate away.

  I knew it, a voice inside my head says. He doesn’t want to be married, but he won’t tell me. I have to hold it together. I can’t let Mrs. Carter see how badly she’s hurt me.

  She leans forward. “Why don’t you be the adult between the two of you and forget about this sham of a marriage?”

  I thrust out my chin in defiance. “Declan and I have feelings for each other.”

  “Oh,” she says. “Is that why he agreed to come for dinner with Ruby?” She lets out a deep sigh. “Ruby is one of us. She and Declan are perfect for each other. They grew up together, and she knows our ways.”

  That all may be true, but there’s one glaring problem. I’ve fallen in love with my husband. I trusted him and opened my heart to him. Now, he’s doing what I knew that men did. He’s trampling all over it.

  Chapter 37

  Declan

  I try calling Marian again, and her phone goes unanswered. I remind myself how busy her day gets, but usually, she manages to send me a text. At near five, my phone vibrates, and I’m relieved to see a text from her.

  I’ll be late getting home. Don’t wait up.

  What kind of crap is this? Why would she write such a message? I think back to this morning. We’d made love in the morning and spent an extra half an hour relaxing in bed, chatting about nonconsequential things. Nothing can explain the terse message she just sent. Fear clenches like a tight fist around my chest.

  We wrap up for the day, and I drive home, where I go through the motions, shower, make coffee, and carry it to the living room. I turn on the TV and distract myself with the news. At dinner time, I make myself a sandwich and wash it down with another cup of coffee. I clean up, and still Marian isn’t home.

  I call her, and this time she answers the phone on the third ring. “Marian, where are you?”

  “It’s not Marian; it’s Brooke. She’s here, but she doesn’t want to talk to you,” Brooke says.

  “Why the hell not?” I demand. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

  “I have to go,” Brooke says and disconnects the phone.

  Clearly, something is terribly wrong. A cold slab of fear settles in my belly. I have to speak to Marian. I run through everything again with a fine-toothed comb. Nothing was amiss this morning, and up until lunchtime, we’d been sending each other messages.

  I grab my car keys and head out. As I’m walking, I call Ace and ask him for Jason Cooper’s home address.

  This is so unlike Marian. It must be bad if she doesn’t want to come home. Maybe she’s decided that she doesn’t want to be married to me anymore. If that’s the case, why can’t she tell me? My hands tremble, and I grip the steering wheel tighter.

  I drive faster than I should. What if this is it for us? I try to imagine my life without Marian in it, and all I see is black. Against all the odds, she and I have forged a life together. A life that is full of love and laughter.

  I pull up into the Coopers’ driveway and kill the engine. It’s past nine and a little late to be going to someone’s house, but this is not a social call. I’m desperate to speak to my wife.

  I go up to the door and knock on it. A minute later, I hear footsteps, and Jason opens the door.

  “Hey, man,” he says, his voice cold.

  “Hey,” I say. “I’m here to see Marian.”

  “She doesn’t want to see you,” Jason says.

  “She’s my wife, Jason, and I’m not leaving until I talk to her,” I say.

  “It’s fine,” Marian says from behind him.

  He moves to the side, and she comes into view. Her eyes are red and swollen, and something squeezes my heart painfully. My arms itch to wrap around her and hold her close.

  She steps out of the house and closes the door behind her. She follows me to my car. I unlock it, and we enter.

  “What’s this about, Marian? Is it Leonard?” If that bastard has done something to hurt her.

  “No. Leonard agreed to part amicably. His attorney is couriering down some documents tomorrow for me to sign,” she says, her voice dull.

  “That’s good news, isn’t it? It’s what we wanted, right,” I tell her.

  She looks at me. I can’t see her face clearly in the semi-darkness, and I hate that.

  “I know that you don’t want to be married to me,” Marian says softly.

  My jaw drops. That’s the wildest and most inaccurate accusation that has ever been directed at me. I could laugh out at the ridiculousness of that statement, but she’s dead serious.

  “Where did you get that from?” I’m relieved that’s what it is because I can say for sure that being married to Marian is the best thing that has ever happened to me.

  “I had lunch with your mom today,” Marian says.

  That wipes my smile and confidence. I blink several times as I absorb the news. “You did?” She hadn’t mentioned lunch with my mom. I curse inwardly. If I knew, I would not have let it happen. I don’t trust my mother.

  “She told me about the dinner with Ruby,” Marian says.

  “Which dinner—?” Then I remember. “I didn’t have dinner with Ruby.”

  “Please, Declan,” Marian says. “I know your mother wouldn’t lie to me.”

  That’s where she’s wrong. My mother lies by omission, which is the same thing. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “This is getting us nowhere,” Marian says and reaches for the door handle.

  “My mother lied to you.”

  She pauses.

  “She called and invited me for dinner but failed to mention that she’d invited Ruby as well. So, when I went and found her there, I refused to have dinner with them and went back to my apartment. So yeah, I was there, but I didn’t have dinner with them.”

  “Why would she tell me something like that if it’s not true?”

  I inhale deeply. How can I explain my mother to Marian when I don’t understand her myself? “Ace and I have disappointed my mother. She’s always believed that being our mother gave her the right to make decisions for us, and I’m sorry that I let her get away with it for so long.”

  I lean my head back on the headrest. “She wanted us to marry the girls we had grown up with. But Ace and I chose different paths.”

  “Does your mother get along with Lexi?” Marian asks.

  “Nope. Ace and Lexi came to terms with it, and so will you and me. You’re an awesome person, Marian, but my mother won’t see it.”

  She’s silent for a moment as she absorbs what I’ve said. “It was very cruel of her to imply that you and Ruby were together.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I say. I
want to take her into my arms, but there’s still an invisible wall between us.

  “What happened between you and Ruby?” she says.

  “Ruby is the most selfish human being I know. We dated for less than six months,” I tell her earnestly.

  “What I don’t get is this,” Marian says. “Why didn’t you tell me about the dinner if it was so innocent?”

  “It was short notice. Going to my parents for dinner is not a big deal, and I planned to tell you afterward. But when I found Ruby there, I decided not to. I didn’t want to cause unnecessary hurt.”

  “You should have told me,” Marian says.

  “I can see that now,” I tell her. “But, sweetheart, I wanted to protect you.”

  Marian folds her arms across her chest. “You can’t protect me from life, Declan. How can I trust you after this, knowing that you keep stuff from me?”

  I stroke her cheek. She remains stiff and unyielding. “Have you never kept anything away from me to protect me? Something that would hurt me?”

  She’s quiet, and I let out a sigh.

  “I’m a married man, Marian, and I love my wife. Nothing would make me fuck up the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

  She sniffs after a moment, and I realize that she’s crying. I pull her into my arms, and even if I can’t hold her the way I want to in the car, it feels good to have her in my arms.

  “Let’s go home,” I tell her.

  “Okay,” she says. “I’ll just tell Brooke and Jason and follow you in my car.”

  I’d prefer to have her here in my car next to me, but I nod. I wait until she enters the house and reach for my phone to call my mother.

  She answers on the first ring. “It’s a little late for a call, Declan.”

  “Mother. This won’t take long. I’m going to make it short and sweet. If you pull a stunt like the one you pulled with Marian today, I’m going to cut you out of my life. I mean it. I’m married, and it’s time you accepted that.”