The Boss's Fake Fiancee

by Inara Scott

  They all drew a deep, collective breath.

  Garth turned to her brother. “You must be Brit.” He stepped forward, hand extended.

  Brit crossed his arms over his chest. “I am.”

  Garth dropped his hand. He eyed Brit calmly. “And you’re not happy.”

  “You used my sister,” Brit said, his voice full of silky menace. He rubbed his knuckles lightly, his fist a surprisingly competent reminder that while he might now be a successful businessman, inside he was still the boy who’d grown up on the streets of New York, looking for trouble. “You lied to my parents and my brothers. You’re damned lucky you’re still standing.”

  Garth’s voice revealed nothing. “I see.” He turned to Melissa. “Shall we go?”

  Brit narrowed his gaze. “That’s it?”

  “I’m not going to argue, if that’s what you’re expecting,” Garth replied. “And given that, I’m not sure there’s anything else to say.”

  Brit took a step closer. Up close, the two men were similar in height and build, though Garth had a few inches on Brit, and where Brit practically vibrated with repressed fury, Garth was a chilly emotionless statue. “I want an explanation. I want to know exactly what happened, why, and how you’re going to fix it.”

  “Well, you’re not going to get any of that,” Melissa said. She grabbed Brit’s arm and tugged hard in the direction of the doorway. “You’re going to leave. Garth and I need to talk.”

  Brit crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m staying.”

  “Oh no, you aren’t!” Tori grabbed Brit’s other hand, helping Melissa to pull him out of the apartment. She shot a quick, meaningful glance at Garth as she did. “I’m not sure whether to say sorry or punch you, but for now, I’m going with removing my oaf of a husband from Melissa’s apartment.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Brit’s scowl deepened. “Not if he’s here.”

  Melissa pushed him the last of the way out the door. “Sorry, big brother, but you have no role in this.” She spared a quick glance at Tori, unable to take in the concern in her friend’s big brown eyes. “I’m sorry you had to cut short your honeymoon.”

  Tori waved a dismissive hand. “I was getting bored of being on vacation anyway.” She darted forward and grabbed Melissa in a quick, tight hug. “So sorry, hon. Call me in the morning,” she whispered into Melissa’s ear.

  Melissa nodded, watching as her brother and Tori disappeared down the stairs. Then she took a deep breath and looked back at Garth. “I apologize for my brother.”

  “It’s understandable. I’d probably feel the same way, if you were my sister.”

  Melissa stepped back inside and closed the door behind her. A chill broke over her skin, and goose bumps danced across her arms and shoulders. “So I guess you heard what I was saying,” she said, her voice wobbling. Her heart beat like a hummingbird, whirring in her chest so quickly it was difficult to catch her breath.

  A tiny part of her imagined him taking her into his arms, kissing her deeply, and sharing his own, everlasting love. But even that tiny spark of hope sputtered moments later, when he made no move in her direction. If he was going to take her in his arms, he had clearly missed his cue.

  “I did.” He paused, and the moment hung in the air with deep, painful tension. “But Melissa, you have to know I don’t—”

  She cut him off, knowing what was coming. “You care about me, Garth. I know you do. And we’re good together. Really good. I know this isn’t what you wanted, and it’s inconvenient and messy, but that’s what life is about.” She put her hands on her hips, staring defiantly at him, refusing to look away. “The truth is that I fell in love with you. And you may not feel the same, but at least I know you feel something. So why not give this a chance? Why walk away now, when we have the chance for something more?”

  “I don’t do relationships. You know that. I’ve said it over and over.”

  “You’ve said a lot of things,” she said. “A lot of things that don’t make a bit of sense. You love deeply—perhaps more deeply than any man I’ve ever known. I know relationships aren’t easy for you, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to walk away from someone you care about.”

  Garth spread his hands. “Melissa,” he said, his voice rough, “you’ve made up some fantasy of who you think I am, but you’re wrong. This is all wrong. You’re looking for something I can’t give, and you’ll only be disappointed when you figure out the truth.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Melissa shot back. “You don’t have the foggiest idea of what I want, or the man I fell in love with.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true,” she flared. “You can’t tell me not to feel it, or that I don’t know who you are. I do know. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst and I’m sorry, but I fell in love with the whole package. The guy who makes me feel beautiful and whole, who asks what I want and listens to my answers, and who couldn’t make it through a family brunch without turning into a cold stranger. Why can’t you believe that?”

  Garth ran his fingers through his hair and turned toward the window. He gave a short, harsh laugh, not looking at her as he began to speak. “You know, Nan sent me to a therapist after my parents died. She worried that I was having trouble making friends, and didn’t understand why I got so nervous in social situations. The therapist had a label for me, something neither Nan or I had ever heard of: Asperger’s syndrome. She came up with lots of recommendations for helping me adjust, but in the end there wasn’t any way to fix it. I’m not normal, Melissa, and I never will be.”

  Melissa’s breath rushed out. She wasn’t surprised, really. She knew too much about the autism spectrum not to have recognized it in Garth. Still, it was the last piece of the puzzle, and it completed everything she already knew about him. His devotion to ThinkSpeak. His tireless intellect. His difficulty reading her emotions. She pictured him as a child, his awkwardness and dislike of social situations becoming magnified bit by bit as he was teased and bullied. She pictured him recovering from the loss of his parents even while he struggled to make sense of his own ability to relate to others—or lack thereof. She pictured a boy who was too smart, who liked all the wrong things and didn’t understand why people gave him such a hard time for being the person he was.

  And fell that much deeper in love.

  “Garth,” Melissa said softly, “you aren’t the only person to struggle with this.”

  Garth held out his hands in mute acknowledgment of her words. “I’m no kind of partner, Melissa. I’m half a man, and there’s no way to fix me. No way to make it better.”

  “You are a whole person. And I fell in love with him.” She willed him to understand, to feel what was in her heart. “I don’t want to fix you.”

  A muscle jumped in his cheek. “What happened with your parents wasn’t a fluke. Remember how I pissed you off, that morning at Seesaw? That’s how I am. I’m better alone. That way no one gets hurt.”

  Melissa’s stomach lurched. “No. You’re not better alone, and we’ve gone way too far to avoid having someone get hurt.” She walked over to the window and touched his arm. “What you’re talking about is window dressing, Garth. I’ve seen the person you are underneath all that. I’ve watched you with Nan, and seen how you care for Jess and those silly dogs. I know what happens when you love something. It isn’t what you say to them that matters. It’s what you do. It’s how you feel. But you have to be willing to take a chance.” She drew in a deep breath, steeling herself for the question she had to ask. “I don’t know how you feel about me, but if you do love me—even just a little—isn’t it worth giving it a try?”

  She waited, her breath yearning in her chest, watching his face for some reaction. Some expression. But nothing came.

  “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I can’t.”

  The air expelled from her lungs in a whoosh. Jagged, tiny pinpricks of pain attacked her from all sides but she forced herself not to look away. “But why? Why w
alk away from this before you know what it could be?”

  “Let it go.” His voice came low. Tense.

  “I love you!” she cried. “I can’t let it go.”

  A rough groan emerged from somewhere deep in his gut. “Damn it, Melissa, I’m tired of hurting, okay? I’m tired of trying and failing. I did it, over and over when I was young. I can’t tell you how many times I asked a woman out and she looked at me like I was crazy, or the way it felt when I realized I had no idea that Samantha didn’t share my feelings for her. I can’t do it anymore. Not for you, or anyone else. I’m sure it sounds fun and romantic to try to save me but you’ll just be disappointed in the long run, and I’m not prepared to go through it again.”

  His words cut through her. She hadn’t expected that. She had thought he would reject her, tell her he didn’t love her, or maybe even look at her with pity. But she hadn’t expected the broken look on his face.

  “I don’t want to save you,” she said, low and urgent. “You don’t need saving. I know things won’t be perfect and we’ll fight and I’ll misunderstand, and you’ll get frustrated. That’s okay. It’s worth it.”

  He held up a hand. “No,” he said, in a tone that brooked no compromise. “It’s not. Not for either of us. You have no idea what it feels like to go through this, Melissa, or you’d agree.”

  “You think I’ve never been hurt?” Melissa stared at him, her stomach locking with anger. “You think I’ve never been humiliated? Or had my heart broken by the man I trusted with my heart and soul?”

  Garth looked down at his hands. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”

  “No, you’re right. You weren’t thinking. You’ve convinced yourself that because you’ve got some special label, your pain is different or worse than everyone else’s. Well, it isn’t. We all fall down, Garth. People hurt us and we trust the wrong people and love the wrong people and then have to pick ourselves up and do it again.”

  She stared at him for an endless moment, but his eyes only got colder, and his body more rigid. Finally, she blew out a breath in surrender. “Fine. I promised to play this game until Nan’s doctor visit, and I will. But come Saturday morning, I’m done.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Melissa liked to think she had been through hard times. She had lived through Mark’s infidelity. She had lived through months of waking up each morning and wondering why she should bother getting out of bed. She had suffered the humiliation of people looking at her with pity.

  She had never felt like this.

  Garth’s hand rested on her hip. They posed for a reporter and cameraman who were working the massive hotel ballroom with its crush of men in tuxedos and women in sparkling gowns. To the press covering the Autism Advocates event, they were the perfect couple. Garth never left her side as they worked the room. She made conversation with people she knew from Solen Labs, and introduced Garth to people she’d connected with through her own work with the advocacy group. Garth talked about ThinkSpeak, and his plans to revolutionize the treatment for children with severe autism. People asked them, “When’s the wedding?” and “Tell us how you two met again?” And of course everyone said, “You look so happy.”

  Meanwhile, Melissa felt as if she were hovering a few feet above her body, avoiding the pain only by removing herself from it. She could no more feel that hand on her hip and know this was the last time she’d feel it, than she could look Garth in the eyes and hear him say again, “It’s not worth it.”

  She’d screwed up again. This time, she’d seen it coming. Falling for Garth had been a disaster she’d warned herself against from day one. The loss should have been easier to bear this time. But it wasn’t. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

  She distracted herself by thinking about her next steps. She’d have to tell her family. The press would find out. Maybe the best thing would be to keep things quiet for a little while as she looked for a new job.

  Melissa stumbled as the thought of leaving Solen Labs caught her with unexpected force. Garth caught her under her arm and she had to stifle a sob.

  Don’t think, don’t look at him, don’t let him know how much this hurts.

  The words became her mantra. She smiled and shook hands. She laughed and stepped out onto the dance floor as if she’d been born to this life. But she couldn’t meet his eyes. Not yet.

  They danced for an hour. Melissa’s head began to pound with the force of her unspent tears. Finally, she pulled him off the floor. “How much longer would you like to stay?” she asked stiffly.

  “We can go now,” Garth replied. She noticed he had been no more able to meet her eyes than she had his. “I’ve seen everyone I need to see.”

  She nodded. Her hold on her composure was razor thin, and as soon as she got home, she would dissolve. If she could only make it that far.

  “Melissa?”

  She spun around at the familiar voice. “Deanna?” It was indeed her old friend—or rather, ex-friend. She wore her hair in a tall up-do, and her curvy body was on full display in a tight silver dress. Mark followed a few feet behind. “And Mark.” She paused, wondering just how much more the universe would choose to pile on her tonight. She waited for the anger and hurt to come, but all she felt when she looked at Mark’s carefully trimmed hair and manicured hands was a deep, resounding emptiness. She had no energy left to waste on Mark and Deanna. Not tonight. Not anymore. “How, er, lovely to see you both.”

  Mark looked wary, probably remembering the last time they’d seen each other. “Melissa.” He nodded to Garth and extended a hand. “It’s been a while. Congratulations on catching her. You’re a lucky man.”

  Garth looked at Mark’s hand as though it were something vile. “Yes, I am.” He looped his arm tighter around Melissa’s waist. “And you’re an ass.”

  Mark’s mouth fell open. Deanna sucked in a sharp breath. “Well, I…” She turned to him and snarled, “I told you they wouldn’t want to talk to us, you idiot.”

  He ignored her. “Look, surely we can let bygones be bygones.” A note of desperation entered his voice. “It’s a small community, you know. Maybe we can find a way to work together in the future.”

  Garth pursed his lips in distaste. “I would sooner work with a hyena. Everyone knows you’re a few steps from bankruptcy, Venshiner. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.” Before waiting for a reply, Garth spun Melissa around and headed for the exit. They went only a few feet before he turned back around. “For the record, if you ever talk to her, touch her, or contact her again, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

  Melissa thought she heard the click of a camera and remembered, in a dizzy, vague corner of her brain, that the press were everywhere tonight. She could see the picture on tomorrow’s New York Star Herald: “Billionaire Solen Slams Failing Entrepreneur Mark Venshiner.”

  And for the first time that night she didn’t have to fake her smile.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “So I’m not recommending any marathons, but I certainly think getting out and walking a little bit every day is a good idea.” Dr. Caldy fixed Nan with a firm look. “As long as you’re careful. Take it easy and give yourself time to build back your strength.” He had come to the house for Nan’s final check, and now sat beside her bed, leaving Garth to pace in the background. “Just because you’ve kicked the pneumonia doesn’t mean you don’t have a long way to go to get your strength back.”

  With each word, Garth felt his heart tear in two opposite directions. Of course, on one hand he was relieved to know Nan was doing well—as well as she could, given her heart and age. But on the other, he couldn’t ignore the obvious consequence of the doctor’s proclamation.

  The pneumonia was gone. He’d have to tell her about Melissa.

  Natalie Orelian had signed the investment agreement on Thursday. She said she’d enjoyed seeing him at the auction with Melissa. He’d been eternally grateful for Melissa’s presence, as she’d stayed close by his side all night,
smoothing over his usual social deep freeze with her wit and beauty. But every second had been an agony, as he wondered if she could possible have been as calm and unconcerned as she looked. He’d almost punched Mark Venshiner right in the middle of his smarmy face, loosing all his pent-up frustration and disappointment on the horrible little man, but had decided Venshiner’s bankruptcy and professional collapse would be its own punishment.

  “If you start getting short of breath,” Dr. Caldy continued, “or having any kind of chest pain, you need to sit down, take it easy, and call me if it persists. Understand?”

  Nan smiled, her eyes crinkling with pleasure. “No aerobics?”

  “Maybe in a few weeks.”

  “I suppose I can handle that.”

  The doctor left a few minutes later, with a handshake to Garth and a peck on Nan’s cheek. He’d been treating her for many years and had become a friend. Garth wouldn’t have trusted his recommendation otherwise.

  After he’d left, Nan pushed herself to standing. Garth took a step toward her, hand out, but she waved him away. “You heard Dr. Caldy. I get to walk every day. On my own.”

  “He said you could walk. He never said on your own.” Garth grabbed the soft fleece robe that lay on the dresser a few feet away and handed it to her. “I expect you to take me, Nurse Margaret, or Jess out for these daily walks, you know. The last thing we need is for you to take a fall.”

  “Pish.” Nan snorted. “I’m as steady as a rock.”

  Still, she placed her hand on his forearm as she began to shuffle toward the patio door. She might have been out of the woods, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t as fragile as a newborn child. All three dogs followed, tearing out ahead when Garth opened the door, and then circling back around to stay close by Nan’s feet. At a slow pace, they walked from the bedroom to the veranda overlooking the backyard garden.

  Nan sat down on a gliding rocker and arranged her robe over her knees. She coughed lightly as she patted the seat beside her. “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s been bothering you.”