Faking It (Single Dad Fake Marriage Box Set#1-5)

by J. J. Bella

  “This is a…beautiful home,” said Molly, looking around the space.

  “You don’t need to be polite,” he said. “I know it’s terrible. I cleared out the place after my ex-wife left and filled it with whatever was in storage. Redoing it just hasn’t been high on my to-do list.

  “Well, maybe someday,” she said, already replacing décor and changing paint colors in her mind.

  “Yeah, maybe once this app gets off the ground I’ll treat myself to a home makeover.”

  Molly looked at Peter as he stood near her. He was dressed in a stylish suit with a light blue jacket and pants, with a gray tie and a crisp, white dress shirt. He was wearing a tasteful gold watch, and his black dress shoes shined with a fresh polish. His brilliant blond hair was slicked back. Molly thought that he must’ve been the most attractive man that she’d ever seen in her life.

  “You look…nice,” she said, saying something before he noticed she was staring.

  “Thank you,” he said, looking at his phone. “I’m in meetings all day, so I had to look halfway presentable.”

  Molly said nothing, her thoughts occupied with the gorgeous man in front of her.

  “Anyway, I have to get going here.”

  He stepped over to a nearby end table and picked up a piece of paper. Returning to Molly, he handed it to her.

  “This is Winnie’s schedule. I wish I could be here to introduce you two, but I really can’t get out of these meetings.”

  “She’s not here now?”

  “No, she’s off at her violin lessons. Karl -that’s our driver- should be bringing her back in a little while, probably around an hour or so.”

  He took a look at his watch.

  “I actually probably have time for a quick tour. Come along.”

  He led her through the living room and towards the back, into an elegant dining room with a long, black table that could easily seat over a dozen people.

  “Dining room here, backyard out there. Kitchen to the right -help yourself to whatever you want in there, by the way-.”

  He led her through the living room to a large, spiral staircase.

  “Downstairs is just storage and my wine cellar; nothing too interesting unless you’re into looking at dusty bottles.”

  Peter then headed up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Second floor is me that way, just my bedroom, office, and a dressing room” he pointed to the right, which led to a long hallway with several doors lined down it. “And that’s Winnie,” he said, gesturing to the left, to a smaller hallway with a pair of doors.

  He then went upstairs to the final floor, which was a large, open space with several doors.

  “This your floor, more or less. Like I said, a lot of space for just the two of us.”

  He led her to the nearest door and opened it, revealing a large dressing room with an angled mirror and closet with enough space to hold more clothes than Molly thought she might ever own.

  “Clothes in here, though there’s plenty of space in your room, if you’d rather keep them here.”

  Molly stuck her head into the room, noting the large amount of gorgeous dresses hung up.

  “Are those…your wife’s?”

  “They are; I’m not really sure what to do with them; lots of nice clothes in there. You’re more than welcome to anything in there, if that’s not too weird for you.”

  Molly wondered why his wife wouldn’t want the clothes after the divorce, but decided against prying further.

  “Office over there,” he said, pointing to another door. “You’re more than welcome to turn that into a studio if you’d like to work on your portfolio, or anything else.”

  He arrived at the last room, which was shut behind a set of beautiful, hand-carved double doors.

  “And here’s you,” he said.

  Opening the door, he revealed a bedroom that was at once cozy and spacious, and bigger than her entire apartment that she shared with Claude. There was a comfy-looking bed with wooden posts, a matching set of dressers, and a large window that looked out over the San Francisco skyline, the blue of the bay visible behind it. The floor was covered in soft, white carpet, and morning light streamed in through the window, giving the room a bright, cheery feeling.

  “This is beautiful,” she said, her voice filled with awe.

  “Glad you like it,” Peter said. “It’s the guest room, but it doesn’t get much use.”

  A moment passed as Molly walked around her new, temporary home; she couldn’t believe she was staying in such a place for the summer.

  “Oh, one more thing,” said Peter.

  Reaching into the pocket of his dress pants, he withdrew a diamond ring, the large, beautiful stone catching the sunlight that poured in.

  “A real ring for a fake engagement,” he said with a smirk, walking over to Molly and holding the ring with his fingertips.

  Molly let out a sharp gasp as she looked at the gorgeous ring.

  “One thing first,” he said, holding out the ring. “Once this goes on, you’re my fiancée. Which means you need to start introducing yourself as such. You’re going to be a playing a part here, so no letting anyone know what’s really going on.”

  “Of course,” said Molly.

  “This city seems like a big place, but Silicon Valley’s smaller than it seems, and word travels around fast. If word gets out what’s really going on here, then that’s the end of our arrangement.”

  Molly nodded, looking at the ring, feeling as though once it slipped on she would be a different person.

  Peter then handed it over to her, and she placed in on her left ring finger, splaying her fingers as she stretched out her arm, trying the ring on for size.

  “Looks good,” said Peter.

  He took another look at his watch.

  “I really need to get going,” he said, starting off for the door. “Get settled, grab some lunch, and make yourself at home. Winnie should be here in an hour or so.”

  Peter was about to leave, but stopped just as he reached the door.

  “Oh, one last thing,” he said.

  Molly unfastened her eyes from the ring and looked up Peter.

  “Welcome,” he said with a smile.

  Chapter Seven

  Molly laid on the bed in her room for a time, the window open, the sounds of the city floating up and around her. Checking the time, she realized she had about an hour to kill before Winnie came home.

  She was still nervous about meeting Peter’s daughter. Molly imagined meeting the girl, sticking out her hand to greet her, only for Winnie to cross her arms, stick out her tongue, and dismiss her with a simple “I don’t like her, Daddy.” And that would be the end of this little arrangement.

  Hoisting herself off of her bed, Molly chided herself for thinking so negatively. Peter did assure her that Winnie was a good girl, and on top of that, she realized how ridiculous it would be for Winnie to be able to dismiss her so easily. Leaving the room, she felt a little better about her impending first impression.

  Molly stuck her head into the dressing room on her floor, looking in awe at the vast array of beautiful gowns hung within. Part of her wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon trying them on. Closing the door, however, she realized that there’d be time plenty for that later.

  Trotting down the stairs, Molly arrived in the living room and took another look at the drab, dated décor. What she’d give to be able to have access to Peter’s wealth in order to give this space a facelift. She walked into the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee. When it was done, she poured herself a cup and returned to the living room, leaning against the wall, the steaming cup in her hands as she looked over the room, her mind racing with different ideas.

  First, that couch would have to go, she thought, taking a small sip of her coffee. Then that coffee table; yuck.

  She then scanned the art on the wall, thinking of local artists whose work she’d seen online that would be perfect for the space.

 
But before she could get too deep into her fantasy, the front doors to the house creaked open. Molly looked up in shock, as though she was in the middle of doing something she shouldn’t. Her eyes shot to an analog clock on the wall, and she realized that this had to be Winnie- but she was early.

  Sure enough, a moment after the doors opened, in stepped a beautiful little girl with golden hair and bright blue eyes. She was dressed in a simple pair of red jeans and a sleeveless, blue-and-white striped top. In one hand was a small, black violin case. Entering behind her was the driver who Molly had met earlier.

  “Ah, Ms. Brimley,” said the driver, a middle-aged man with graying hair and a trim figure. “We’re back a little early; Winnie’s violin instructor had an emergency.

  Winnie looked up at Molly, her mouth a flat line and her eyes slightly narrowed, as if suspicious.

  “Anyway,” said the driver. “Winnie, dear, this is Molly Brimley. She’ll be your live-in nanny for the summer.”

  Winnie said nothing. Molly quickly realized that she was going to have to be the one to break the silence.

  Approaching Winnie, Molly squatted down to her level and extended her hand.

  “Hi, Winnie,” she said, affecting a bright and chipper tone. “I’m Ms. Brimley, but you can call me Molly. It’s nice to meet you.”

  Winnie looked at her hand, her skeptical expression unchanging.

  “Winnie,” said the driver. “Be nice.”

  Winnie looked up at the driver, and realizing that there was no way she was getting out of this, shook Molly’s hand, her tiny fingers cold against Molly’s palm.

  “Is that fine?” asked Winnie, slipping her hand out of Molly’s.

  “That’s fine,” said the driver.

  “Good. I’ll be in my room.”

  With that, Winnie, violin case in hand, dashed off to the stairs and ran up.

  “Warm welcome,” said Molly, rising from where she stood.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said the driver. “She’s a shy girl. She’ll warm up to you.”

  He extended his hand.

  “By the way, I’m Karl.”

  “Nice to meet you, Karl,” said Molly, happy for a normal handshake.

  “If you need anything, my number’s on the fridge. Don’t hesitate to give me a call.”

  “Thanks,” said Molly, grateful for the offer. “Does she need to be anywhere soon?”

  “My, yes,” said Karl. “Mr. Randall likes to keep the girl quite busy. I believe she has a piano lesson in an hour or so, and tennis after that. I’d go up there and get her ready to head out. I’ll be taking you to the piano lesson, but the rest are in walking distance- might be nice to spend some time with her, get to know one another, you know?”

  “Yeah, good idea.”

  “I’m going to go fill up the tank; you might want to go chat with the young lady before it’s time to take her to her lesson. I’ll be back in about fifteen.”

  Molly nodded, took a deep breath, and headed up to the second floor. The door to Winnie’s room was shut, and Molly gave it a light rap.

  “Yes?” asked the voice on the other side, a child’s voice but with the edge of an annoyed adult.

  “Hey, Winnie,” asked Molly. “Can I come in?”

  A moment passed.

  “Fine.”

  Molly opened the door and stepped into a girl’s room done up in bright pinks and contrasted with off-whites. There were dolls and doll’s clothing strewn about, and posters on the wall of the latest girl-oriented cartoons. Winnie sat on the floor, an iPad in her hand as she scrolled through pictures of various toys.

  “You about ready to go to your piano lesson?”

  “I guess,” she said, not looking up at Molly.

  “OK, good. Because we’re going to leave when Karl gets back.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’ll, uh, call you when he’s back.”

  “OK,” she said, still flipping through her iPad.

  Molly slowly stepped out of the room, as though Winnie were going to explode at her at any moment.

  She headed back down the stairs and picked up her coffee cup, the liquid within now cool enough to drink.

  I suppose “icy indifference” is preferable to “outright hostility,” thought Molly as she turned her attention back to the décor. After a time, she stepped back into the kitchen, added Karl’s number to her phone, and finished the sips of her coffee.

  A little later, Karl stepped back into the house.

  “You ladies ready?” he asked.

  Molly was about to fetch Winnie, but as she turned to head up the stairs, she saw that Winnie had already come down and was wearing a pink and white backpack.

  “I’m ready, Karl,” she said, not looking at Winnie.

  Karl gave Molly a knowing look, having noticed Winnie’s game.

  “Then let’s go.”

  The trio made their way to the car, Molly and Winnie hopping in the back seat.

  Karl took his place, and within moments, the car was through the wrought-iron gate and back onto a wide boulevard leading to downtown.

  “You like playing piano?” asked Molly.

  “It’s fine,” said Winnie, her eyes on the passing city.

  “What kind of stuff do you like to play?”

  “Anything. I don’t care.”

  “Didn’t you just finish perfecting that Brahms piece?” asked Karl from the front. “Your teacher said you had it down perfectly.”

  “Oh, I did!” said Winnie, her expression vibrant. “It’s the etude number…um, seven, I think. It was really hard, but Ms. Penrose said I did it perfectly.”

  “Very good!” said Karl.

  Molly felt the air suck out of her lungs, but as she looked up at the rearview mirror, she saw Karl give her another look, one that seemed to say “see? She’s fine; she’ll warm up to you eventually.”

  They came to a stop at a particularly busy intersection downtown.

  “Here we are,” said Karl. “I’ll be back to pick you ladies up at around three.”

  “Bye, Karl!” said Winnie, waving as she clambered out of the car.

  But as soon as Karl drove off, Winnie’s smile faded.

  “You ready for piano?” asked Molly.

  “No.,” said Winnie. “I want ice cream.”

  Molly checked her watch as saw that there was absolutely no time for that, even if it weren’t still morning.

  “Maybe after your lessons,” she said.

  “No!” said Winnie, stomping her foot on the sidewalk as the bustling pedestrians walked around them.

  Molly felt anxiety wrap its icy fingers around her stomach; she was worried that Winnie might decide to bolt- not the best way to start off the first day with the boss’s daughter.

  “Winnie, you know you have your lesson,” said Molly taking on a stern tone. “And you know your daddy and Karl won’t be happy if you skip it.”

  This seemed to make some sense to Winnie.

  “How about we go to your lessons, and after we can get a snack?”

  A moment passed, the din of the city swirling around them.

  “Fine,” said Winnie.

  “Good.”

  Molly checked the address to the lesson on her phone and the two of them headed in. Once Winnie was in the care of Mrs. Penrose, Molly let out a sigh of relief. Stepping back onto the busy city street, she decided to grab a cup of coffee and do some reading until the lesson was over. The time flew by, and soon it was time to retrieve Winnie.

  “How was the lesson?” asked Molly.

  “Fine,” said Winnie, Molly secretly hoping that she would get a different response.

  The two made their way to a nearby park, a gentle breeze picking up as they arrived at the tennis courts. But a toy store across the street caught Winnie’s attention.

  “I want to go there,” said Winnie, pointing with a little finger at the eye-catching store.

  Molly wanted to sigh, but thought better of it.

  “Win
nie, we can go there after the lesson.”

  “But I don’t even like tennis,” she said. “I want to go toy shopping!”

  Before the scene could get any worse, Winnie’s coach came by and intervened.

  “Hey, champ,” said the coach, a strapping, middle-aged man with a shaved head and handsome face. “You ready to play?”

  “I guess,” said Winnie.

  Molly let out a rush of air- saved by the coach.

  “We’ll be done in an hour or so,” said the coach.

  “OK, great, thanks,” said Molly. “And thanks for, um, you know.”

  He raised his hand smiled, as if to say “don’t even worry about it.” Molly handed over the bag containing Winnie’s racquet and her tennis clothes, and the coach took them.

  Holding Winnie’s hand, the coach brought her over to a group of young girls on the court, all holding racquets. Alone once again, Molly took a stroll through the park, enjoying the lovely weather until the time came to pick up Winnie. Molly arrived just as the girls were breaking up, the courts bustling with parents and children. Winnie trotted up to Molly, now wearing her tennis outfit and toting her racquet in its case.

  “I want ice cream now,” she said.

  “We can get ice cream, but only if you’re polite.”

  “Fine, can we get ice cream pleeeease?” she asked, dragging out the word.

  “We can.”

  The two made their way over to nearby ice cream truck, and Molly bought a couple of tall vanilla cones, the ice cream spiraling so high that Molly worried it might topple over. Winnie happily set into the ice cream, her mood improving with each bite. And as they sat in the park, Winnie spotted one of her favorite vintage clothing stores across the street. Sensing an opportunity, Molly posed a question.

  “Do you like playing dress up, Winnie?”

  “Kind of,” she said, the tip of her nose white with ice cream.

  Molly could tell that she was intrigued, though trying to play it nonchalant.

  “Well, I do. I think I might go across the street and find some new clothes to buy.”

  Winnie was busy with her ice cream, but Molly could tell by Winnie’s side-eyed look that she was interested.

  “Want to come with?”

  “Hmm, OK,” said Winnie, taking a bite of her waffle cone.