by Katie Allen
“I don’t tell anyone my first name.”
“That bad?” His grin faded when she just regarded him stonily. “Seriously, I need to know—we’re supposed to be dating. How is that believable if I don’t know your name?”
Topher sighed. “Fine. But only if you promise—and I mean swear on your life—that you will never call me by it. Or tell anyone, except I suppose your uncle, but you have to make him promise never to call me that, too.”
“I promise,” he said eagerly. “Now I’m dying to know—what is it?”
She mumbled something under her breath.
“What?” Danny asked. “A little louder—I didn’t hear that.”
Topher glared at him. “Coco.”
He choked. Despite her grim, narrow-eyed glower, another chortle escaped and he clapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. After he regained minimal control over his mirth, he lowered his hand to ask, “Are you serious?”
“No, Danny. I think it’s hilarious that my mom gave me a dog name.”
He laughed again, and she reached across the table and punched him in the shoulder.
“Knock it off,” she told him. “You promised!”
“I never promised not to laugh. What was she thinking? Does your mom hate you?”
She shrugged. “No clue. When I asked her, she just told me that I have no idea how much it hurts to have a baby. She pled delirium.”
“Huh. Why don’t you have it changed?”
“Probably because I’m going to have a stage name anyway and that would be a lot of names floating around. Also, it would hurt my mom’s feelings.”
“Still, Coco Topher?” He giggled until he took a sip of his smoothie.
His wince of disgust at the taste lifted her spirits a tiny bit until she remembered the topic under discussion. “It wasn’t Topher until my stepdad adopted me when I was eight.”
“Yeah?” Danny glanced at her. “What was it before then?”
She sighed. “Brown.”
Danny was silent for several beats. “Coco... Brown.”
“Yep.”
“Coco Brown.”
“That’s my name. Don’t ever call me that again.”
He shook his head slowly while playing with his straw. Topher had a feeling that Danny wouldn’t be drinking any more of his ten dollar swamp-water smoothie. “Your mother called you, an innocent baby, Coco Brown. Yeah, she hated you.”
“Whatever—let’s change the subject. So how’d we meet?” she asked.
“Duh—I came in for coffee.” Danny flicked a balled-up napkin at her. “It’s only been like three months and you’ve forgotten already?”
“No, I mean us, the boyfriend-girlfriend us. How’d we meet?” She blocked the napkin and tossed it back, bouncing it off his forehead. Danny tried to catch it but knocked it to the floor instead. When he made no move to pick it up, Topher stared at him and then the napkin on the floor, back and forth until he finally got the message. Flushing, he picked it up and threw it in a nearby trash bin.
“I told you—I think we should stick to the facts. Coffee shop, actress, Coco Topher.” He grinned when she directed a fierce scowl at him. “It’ll be easier to remember everything if the only part we make up is the love stuff.”
“Yeah, just that little thing,” she said sarcastically, fidgeting with her water bottle, screwing the lid on and off and on again. “So the real-life me is a bad enough girlfriend to make the ginger look good?”
Danny sent her an uneasy glance. “Of course not. I’m sure you’d be a perfectly fine girlfriend.” At her raised eyebrow, he started to look hunted. “I mean, I figured the bad girlfriend thing would be the acting part.”
Topher considered that. It actually was a good idea—the more truth they told, the less likely they would be caught in a lie.
“Okay.” She saw Danny blow out a relieved breath. “That makes sense. So what else do I need to know?”
He shrugged. “My last name is McCarthy. I don’t know what else—that I’m allergic to penicillin?”
With a grin, Topher nodded. “Good to know. What’s your uncle’s name?”
“James Hawkins.”
“That sounds familiar.” Although she racked her brain, she couldn’t think of where she had heard the name before. “What business is he in again?”
Danny gave another shrug. “It’s a bunch of stuff now. Search engines, radio stations—he’s always adding different businesses in. It’s hard to keep track.”
“You just take the check and run?”
He grinned at her, not all offended. “Yep.”
“Speaking of checks...” When he didn’t react except to fiddle with his straw, Topher narrowed her eyes. “Pay up, Danny Boy.”
“Here.” He pulled his wallet from the messenger bag looped over the back of his chair. Extracting a check, he handed it to Topher.
She glanced at it and frowned. “This is for only five thousand. We agreed on half up front. Half is forty thousand. Math can be your friend, Danny.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t sound too apologetic. “I had some expenses. Christmas coming and all.”
“You can’t come up with forty thousand now, but you’re going to pay me eighty in three weeks?” Tapping the edge of the check on the table, Topher felt all her middle-of-the-night doubts come rushing back. She’d known it was too good to be true, but she’d already put in for those two weeks off at both of her jobs. If Danny flaked on her, January was going to be a really tight month. “Am I going to have to send the carrot-top’s dad after you?”
“I’m good for it.” Danny sounded offended, and Topher wished she had the napkin so she could flick it at his stupid face again. “Your fee is coming out of my Christmas money.”
“Your Christmas money?”
“My gift from my uncle. You know, for Christmas.” He spoke slowly, as if it was a given that everyone had an uncle who gave them huge amounts of money every holiday season.
Staring at the check, she debated calling off the whole deal. What would she lose by going to his uncle’s house, though? It would be two weeks of food and a break from living with three roommates in a tiny apartment. The five thousand would more than cover the two weeks of missed work. “Fine. You’re paying for the costumes, though.”
“Costumes?” he repeated warily.
“Costumes.” Taking a drink of her water, she gave him a devilish grin. “Who’s ever heard of an actress without costumes? Buckle up, Danny Boy. We’re going shopping.”
Chapter Two
Her heart started pounding as she rode through the outskirts of Chicago in the passenger seat of Danny’s rental SUV.
“My uncle would have sent a car,” he explained, “but I like to have my own wheels.”
Topher just nodded, still amazed that she had agreed to this scheme. What had she been thinking? Internally, she rolled her eyes at the dumb question. She knew perfectly well what she had been thinking—eighty thousand dollars, that’s what.
“How long is this drive?” she asked, glancing out the window. Suburbs had given way to long stretches of fields, snow tucked into the furrows, striping the landscape white and black. Occasional farms were marked by groups of bare trees around the buildings.
“Actually, we’re almost there,” Danny said, making her stomach lurch with renewed nerves.
She swallowed hard. No throwing up in the rental. “Your uncle lives on a farm?”
“I wouldn’t really call it a farm.” The way he said “farm” made the word sound alien, as if it had never passed his lips before. “Not in the cows and overalls kind of way, although he does have horses.”
“Well, I didn’t really think he’d be driving his little red tractor around with a piece of wheat between his teeth. He lives in t
he country, though?”
“Yeah. He owns a bunch of acres. Don’t worry. It’s actually pretty civilized for being in the middle of nowhere.”
He turned off onto a narrow lane. The trees were more plentiful now, hiding the view around each curve in the twisting road. As they made a final, sharp turn, the wrought iron gates came into view, flanked by two brick pillars.
Danny pulled up next to a call box and pushed a button. “Hey, it’s Danny—open up!”
A movement on top of one of the pillars caught Topher’s eye and she glanced up to see a video camera turning toward them. She swallowed. Something about the blinking red light made her feel extremely guilty about the charade they were about to begin.
As the gates slowly opened, she turned in her seat. “Danny...”
Her voice must have revealed her doubts, because he gave her a wink and a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, Coco. We’re going to have a blast.”
The driveway seemed more like a private street, weaving through tree-dotted acres until they reached the circular drive in front of a house—a very fancy house. Topher had grown up in fancy houses, and this one was one of the nicest she’d seen. It had a classy—almost understated—elegance, and the warm red brick and wide, welcoming front porch gave it a homey feel.
Danny parked right in front and got out. As he stretched, Topher took a moment to breathe. This was it. If she really wanted to be an actress, now was the time to show that she could handle it. Actually, screw that—if she wanted the eighty thousand dollars, she needed to nail this. Climbing out of the SUV, she slammed her door with more firmness than necessary before walking up the porch steps. As they stood in front of the double front doors of the house, Danny turned to face her, taking her cold hands in his.
“Here we go,” he said. “Ready?”
No! her brain screamed but she nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be...sweetheart.”
He grinned and pushed the door open. “After you, darling.”
They walked into a lofted foyer, their boots echoing against the hard tiled floor. An enormous, professionally decorated Christmas tree towered above them, filling the space with the scent of pine. As Danny helped her slide her coat off, a booming voice thundered into the space, making Topher jump.
“Daniel. You’re late.” The voice had come from above. They both craned their necks to see the man descending the curving staircase.
Topher felt her mouth drop open. This couldn’t be Uncle James, could it? Danny’s uncle was supposed to be old and portly and definitely not this man—this huge, built, young, completely gorgeous man... Right?
“That’s your uncle?” she hissed under her breath to Danny, who looked at her in surprise and gave an affirmative shrug.
“Well, fuck me.” Her muttered words drew another startled glance from Danny.
The hottest uncle she’d ever seen rounded the last curve, and she could see his face full-on. Topher stopped hyperventilating. In fact, for a second, she stopped breathing altogether. The right side of his face was fallen-angel perfect, with full lips, a dark blue eye, slashing dark brow, and a cheekbone that could make a girl come just by looking at it. The left side...well, the left side of his face was tragic.
From forehead to below his mouth, from his ear to the side of his nose, his skin was a mess of scar tissue. His left eye was covered with an eye patch. Danny gave her side a hard pinch and Topher sucked in a breath. Now that the original gut punch of seeing the destruction of what must have been mind-blowingly beautiful had eased, she remembered her role and pulled herself together.
Come on, girl, she ordered herself. You want to act, then act.
“Oh. My. God.” Topher widened her eyes and smiled vacuously at the approaching man. “Are you Uncle Jamie? Because you are, like, the cutest thing ever!” She turned to Danny and grabbed his arm, hugging it against her side. “Dan-Dan, your uncle is just adorable! That eye patch is super hot and pirate-y.” She forced out a giggle.
James came to an abrupt halt in front of them, looking as dumbstruck as if she had smacked him in the face with a pan. “Who are you?” He glowered at her.
Sliding her bottom lip out in a small pout, she gave Danny’s arm a reproving shake. “Dan-Dan, didn’t you tell Uncle Jamie I was coming?” Danny opened his mouth to respond but she didn’t give him a chance. Turning back to his uncle, she chattered on. “Uncle Jamie—you don’t mind if I call you that, do you? I was going to call you Mr. Hawkins, but that was when I thought you’d be all old and eww.” She made a face and curled her fingers into claw hands. “But now that I see you’re just a cutie-pie, I just can’t call you by the old man name now, can I?” She beamed at him.
He blinked at her. “You can call me James.”
“Oh, goodie! Anyway, what I was saying, Uncle Jamie, was that it’s my fault we’re late because I wanted to stop at the outlets, because they have a BCBG shop there and I just love their dresses, you know, and Dan-Dan said, ‘No, Tophie, we’ll be late,’ and I said, ‘Please, please, please?’ and did eyes like this, and Dan-Dan said, ‘You know I can’t resist when you look at me like that’ so we—”
James’s face grew darker and darker through her babbling monologue until he sliced a hand through the air. “Quiet!”
She obediently shut her mouth, still smiling at him.
“Who are you?”
“This is my girlfriend, Uncle James.” Danny beamed, looking positively ecstatic with how the introductions were going so far. “Coco Topher. I told you she was coming for Christmas.”
“You told me your girlfriend was coming, so I assumed it was that mobster’s daughter—wait, Coco?”
Although she winced inwardly, she held on to her smile. “Call me Topher, Uncle Jamie. I feel like we’re BFFs already! And that red-haired bee-otch, well, that’s been over forever and Dan-Dan has promised me that he won’t ever even think about her again, so if you could not talk about her at all, that would really help him not think about her, so he won’t break his promise to me, see?” She widened her eyes even further. “I like your house—it’s so big and everything is so shiny. I like sparkly things a lot.”
Danny gave her arm a warning squeeze, and Topher mentally winced in agreement. That last one might have been over the top.
“So you’re here for two weeks?” James looked slightly nauseated. “Won’t your own family...miss you?”
She flashed a huge smile. “Well, of course they will, silly. They’re all skiing at Aspen, though, and skiing isn’t really my fave thing to do since they’re all better than me and drag me up to the top of the mountain and say that a black diamond isn’t really that hard and then I have to try to get to the bottom without breaking my leg because crutches are so not sexy—right, Dan-Dan?—and they always put those stupid bumps in the middle of the run—”
“Moguls?” James offered.
“That’s it!” The scary part was that everything she had just babbled had been completely true, Topher realized. “You are so smart!” Turning to Danny, she hugged his arm to her chest and bounced up and down a few times for good measure. “Your uncle is, like, a genius, isn’t he?” She stared at James in awe.
“Oh, please don’t tell him that—he’ll be even more insufferable than he already is.” An amused female voice echoed through the space, bringing all three of their heads around. A pretty woman walked toward them.
Danny’s aunt? Topher wondered, feeling an immediate jolt of jealousy that she refused to acknowledge. Things are quite complicated enough without you getting all hot for uncle, she reprimanded herself sternly. Besides, as the woman drew closer, Topher could see that she was probably in her mid-forties, a good fifteen years or so older than James appeared to be.
“Hi!” Topher chirped. “I’m Topher.” She extended glittering, pink-and-rhinestone-tipped fingers. Danny had paid for
a trip to the spa as well as her bad-girlfriend wardrobe, so she had gone all out.
Still smiling, the woman shook her hand. “I’m Julia, Danny’s mother.”
Topher allowed her mouth to draw into a surprised “O.”
“You’re Dan-Dan’s mom?” she gasped. “But you can’t be—you’re so pretty and young—did you have him when you were, like, ten?”
Julia laughed. “I like you,” she said and turned to Dan, leaning in to accept his kiss on her cheek. “I like her. This one is much better than that last one—what was her name? Thorn? Dagger?”
“Barb.” Dan gave Topher a poke. She mentally rolled her eyes at him. How was she supposed to know that even an idiot was better than Barb as far as his mother was concerned?
She turned back to Julia and told her in a stage whisper, “Mama Julia, we don’t talk about that ginger viper. It’s a whole thinking thing.”
“I...see,” said a bemused Julia, taking Topher’s arm. “Why don’t you come in? I can’t believe my brother didn’t let you get any farther than the entryway. My, those are quite the boots.”
“Aren’t they fabulous?” Topher looked down fondly at the knee-high, pink suede monstrosities that she couldn’t believe she had been lucky enough to find on last week’s mad, Danny-financed shopping excursion. “I love the fur accents—aren’t they wonderful? I don’t think it’s real fur, though,” she assured Julia solemnly.
The other woman nodded, doing a marvelous job, Topher felt, of not bursting into gales of laughter. “They are...very nice.” Julia’s voice was choked. Clearing her throat, she spoke again. “I’m sure they’re not real fur. I don’t know any animal that comes in that shade of cotton-candy pink.”
Topher gasped, stopping in her tracks, her abrupt halt yanking a surprised Julia off balance. “You don’t think...” Topher whimpered. “They wouldn’t have made my boots out of a... Muppet, would they?” She stared at Julia in horror. Either Dan or James made a choking sound behind them.
