From This Day Foward: Switched at Marriage Part 4

by Gina Robinson

  My eyes misted. Crap, he was sweet. Thoughtful. Considerate. And maybe, best off all, reasonable.

  I swallowed a lump that was fast forming in my throat. "I wasn't that nice."

  "Nice enough that I developed a mad crush on you."

  I looked into his eyes, startled that he'd brought it up. "You're just into older women, that's all. And I was convenient."

  I could have bit my lip. I had a habit of brushing heartfelt compliments aside as if they were nothing. I didn't know why I couldn't just smile and accept them. They made me uncomfortable, I guess. Deep down, I felt I didn't deserve them. I was a little embarrassed. Because, really, I hadn't been that nice.

  I'd known he had a crush on me. And though I'd defended him in public, and tried to put a stop to it when my sorority sisters teased me about it, I never considered him boyfriend material. I felt, and yes, this is hard to admit, but we've all felt it at one time or another, that he was beneath me. Now, it seemed superficial. And silly. Here he was, not even twenty-two and one of the most important, and richest, men in the city.

  So no, I didn't really deserve that compliment. But that he admitted that crush so openly, and vulnerably, now, was more than sort of adorable.

  He laughed. "You weren't unique because you were older than me. Everyone was older than I was. Even the high school seniors who came to campus on college visits." He laughed, more at himself than anything. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Kay. You treated me like a person, not a freak. Very few people did. Especially cool, popular people like you were."

  I almost corrected him and told him I wasn't that popular or cool. Just insecure enough to try to be. I caught myself just in time. "That's sweet. Really. Flattering."

  He shook his head. "You're too nice. There's no need to lie. I was an immature geek then. Still am in many ways."

  "No." I shook my head.

  He raised one eyebrow.

  I laughed. "Well, maybe. Maybe we both were. I was so stupidly infatuated with Eric." I was surprised by how put out I sounded, and felt, about my stupid younger self, as in an entire week younger, wasting so much time on him.

  Jus winced. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

  "Sore subject?" I snorted softly, my favored sound of derision. "Is that what he is?"

  "He's not one of my favorite topics." He glanced down at his feet. "Even a husband of convenience doesn't like to think of his new bride longing for an ex."

  "I'm not longing for him." The words popped out of my mouth without thought. But I realized with a start that they were true.

  He glanced up from his feet to me with a skeptical look on his face.

  "Honestly." I put my hand lightly on Justin's arm. It was warm and hard beneath my touch. And maybe it was my imagination, but I thought his breath caught a little.

  "Oh, sure, I like the revenge of marrying up, way out of his league." I smiled softly at Jus, a swell of pride rising deep within. "He'll never accomplish anything near what you have. No, I've barely thought of him all week." I paused. "You make me forget all about him, my dearest husband of wild fakery."

  He shook his head, but his grin was way too wide.

  "Jus?" I rested my hands at either side of me and gripped the padded bench I sat on. My heart raced as a question formed on my lips.

  "Yeah?" He mimicked my pose. Our hands were so close they nearly touched.

  I was actually, surprisingly, tempted to loop my pinkie around his. "Why a year?"

  He frowned ever so slightly. "Why a year what?"

  "For this marriage." I held his gaze. "Why not six months? Or three years? Or a decade? I get why not a few days or weeks. But what's magic about a year?"

  He didn't answer. So I pressed him. "Is there a secret will I should know about? Like a long-lost aunt passed away leaving you another few billions. But only if you marry and stay married for a year? Otherwise, all the money goes to her eighteen cats? Because, you know, you could tell me that. Though I might ask for a bigger piece of the pie if that's the case. Saving a fortune from cats is hard work, after all."

  "There's no secret will." His eyes sparkled. He was clearly amused.

  "So you could end this early? If you wanted to." The thought just occurred to me.

  "I suppose." He shrugged. "If I wanted to. But." He took a deep breath, like he was bracing to give a longwinded explanation. "Don't get your hopes of collecting that ten million early just yet. I really do need the time to make sure the ID thief can't hurt us or Flash." He paused. Started to speak. And stopped himself.

  "What?" My heart pounded in my ears. "What's happened?"

  "She texted me." He whipped out his phone and showed me the text.

  "The girl on the news is not the Kayla Green you married," I real aloud, before turning my gaze to his. I stared at him with wide eyes.

  "It's from a burner phone," he said. "Untraceable."

  "That text is from days ago." I swallowed, thinking hard and fast. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  "I didn't want to worry you. She's my problem. I'll deal with her. I gave myself a year, right from the start, to make sure she can't cause problems."

  "It's our problem now." My mouth was dry. "If my family finds out I faked this marriage"—I gave him a small smile—"especially now that they've fallen in love with you—"

  "They won't." He covered my hand with his. "I promise."

  "Jus, you have to let me in on this. You have to keep me informed. We're a team now." I paused, afraid to ask the next question. "How did she get your number?"

  He sighed. "From your phone, I assume."

  I felt myself pale. "She downloaded my contact list?" The thought made me nauseated.

  He shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe she just kept my number. You know, to look up later. So she could laugh at me. Or who the hell knows what."

  I turned my hand over, palm up to his, and laced my fingers through his. "Has she asked for money? Has she blackmailed you?"

  His expression hardened. He clasped my hand tightly in his. "I won't give her money. Don't worry. But to answer your question, no. That's the only communication from her."

  "But she has to want something—"

  "She won't get it. I'll stop her." His face was fierce with determination. "I'll find her."

  "And then what?"

  "Just what I said before. I'll neutralize her."

  I shivered. "What does that mean, exactly?" Though I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

  He clutched my hand and ran his thumb over mine. His grip was amazingly comforting.

  "Just what it implies—I'll fix it so she can never hurt either of us. I can do it within a year. I'm sure I can." He bumped me gently with his shoulder. "I'm sorry I had to tell you. It wasn't my intent to upset you before our wedding party. We're supposed to look like a carefree, happy couple."

  "I'm glad you did. You'll tell me if she contacts you again?"

  He nodded. "Promise. Now, you still haven't told me how I'm supposed to act around your friends." He grinned, dismissing the ID thief as suddenly insignificant.

  "Like your charming self, of course." I smiled into his eyes. "Seriously, just be yourself and we'll be fine." And I meant it. "But it would help, in the future, if we maintain a public persona. You know, the kind of couple we are."

  He arched an eyebrow and studied me. "Just what is our persona?"

  I shrugged. "So far? I'd say sweetly in love. Stunned by the sudden passion and realization, not to mention impulsiveness, of our feelings for each other. Giddy, maybe, with the feeling of being newly in love and having found our soul mate. The public loves that kind of stuff. We should run with it."

  He nodded. His eyes narrowed. "Is that what we've shown to everyone? Friends and family, too?"

  "My family loves the idea of us. And your mom is coming around to me."

  "Our friends? Your friends? What should they see?" He shot those arrows of accusation with deadly precision.

  I fought back a blush as I remembered the E
IEIO meeting and lunch with Britt. Maybe I had been a little too obvious with Lazer. I flashed Jus an innocent smile. "The same as everyone else—a couple very much in love."

  "So that's how we play it?" His grin was adorable. "If I follow your lead will I stay out of trouble?"

  I laughed and shook my head. "Maybe."

  "Good enough."

  My cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at it. Lazer had texted me. You're in, princess! Take a look. What do you think? Spectacularly gorgeous!

  A picture of a video game princess popped up. She looked like me. Except for the overspillage of cleavage and impossibly narrow waist. I was neither that amply endowed nor that tiny in the midsection. Everything about the characterized me was enhanced. And I loved her!

  Just got confirmation that you're in the alpha test group, too. In real life. I'm free this afternoon. Do you want to play a game?

  I must have gotten a lovesick smile on my face.

  "Lazer?" All the fun and flippancy left Justin's voice. He removed his hand from mine.

  I looked up at him and tried not to appear guilty as charged. "Yeah. I've been approved to be in the alpha test for a new game he's involved in. You should ask him to get you in the group, too."

  Jus shook his head. "I don't have time to play games."

  But wasn't that pretty much what we were doing all the time?

  "I'm in the game as a character, too," I said. "Isn't it awesome? How did you know?"

  "Among my many talents, I can read upside down."

  "A multitalented man! Impressive." I handed him the phone. "See?"

  His face became unreadable as he studied the texted picture. "Hot."

  I laughed, self-conscious. His tone didn't exactly ooze enthusiasm. "Thank you. I think."

  He handed my phone back. "Is this princess in the final, public-release version of the game?"

  I frowned. "Yes, of course." I was confused. Was there any other version? "She's not a playable character, though. Why?"

  Jus shrugged. "No reason. You're sure? It's common enough for game developers to make custom versions for select clients, like Lazer. I've even known guys who've proposed to their girlfriends via a custom game. They get a special 'proposal' level built in. The developers get a kick out of helping out fanatic fans."

  "I assumed…" Now I wasn't sure.

  "You can always ask Lazer." Jus was too casual.

  He'd done a perfect job of seeding doubt in my mind. Was Lazer playing me? And how in the world would I ask him?

  "I'm gaming with another guy." I paused and studied Jus, but his face was still a mask. "You're not jealous?"

  He held my gaze. "You like Lazer? If it wasn't for our fake marriage, you'd go after him?"

  Why had my mouth gone suddenly dry again? "If it wasn't for our 'marriage,' I never would have met him."

  "You can be honest with me, Kay. If you like him, you like him." His tone was neutral, almost damningly unconcerned.

  "I think we could have chemistry." I was suddenly defensive. It showed unintentionally in my tone. "Under different circumstances."

  Jus continued studying me. "He's my mentor and one of my good friends."

  "I know. I'm sorry." In my rush to apologize, I practically slurred my words together.

  Jus shrugged. "That's not what I meant. I mean, he doesn't know this is a decoy marriage to shut that ID-thieving bitch down." His gaze was piercing.

  "I haven't told him." Why did I feel the need to defend myself against an accusation he hadn't voiced?

  "I didn't say you did. The point is he doesn't know. And yet he flirts with my new bride and makes a romantic gesture, like turning her into a hot video game princess."

  "He's not flirting. I don't think that's how he sees it. He's just being nice—"

  Jus snorted and shook his head. "Guys aren't nice like that, sweetheart. He's flirting. He's a player, Kay. Just like Eric. Always has been." He paused. "Or worse—he's up to something. Scheming. Be careful what you tell him. About us. About anything."

  He took my hand again. "One thing you learn when you run in billionaires' circles—don't trust anyone."

  Chapter Two

  Justin

  Lazer was up to something, damn him. He was a lot of interesting, odd, and eclectic things, but a wife stealer wasn't one of them. That I was aware of, anyway. He had enough beautiful single women falling all over him. He didn't need to poach mine. Or anyone else's. I'd never known him to lose his heart. He jounced from one relationship to another unscathed, leaving a trail of broken, and often bitter, hearts in his wake. His, I swore, was made of impenetrable armor. It would take a woman armed with a nuclear weapon to get to him.

  Even if I hadn't been in love with Kay, just out of friendliness, I would have warned her off him. Lazer wasn't the committed type.

  What the hell was his game? If he was suspicious of what I was up to, I had to throw him off. It would have been nice to confide in him about the jam I was in. He was my mentor, after all. And a hell of lot smoother with the ladies than I could ever hope to be. But the fewer people who knew the truth, the better. And I wasn't certain, one hundred percent, that he wouldn't use it against me. Clichéd to say, but business was a dog-eat-dog world. And both of us were determined to be the alpha.

  On impulse, I texted Lazer. Stop flirting with my wife. I'm the guy who's supposed to make her feel like a princess.

  He texted right back. Was I flirting? Sorry, man. I'll back off. Just thought she'd get a kick out of being in a game. No poaching intended.

  The text exchange then degenerated into a discussion about business. I didn't hold a grudge. And I didn't want to put him on guard. If nothing else in my bullied life, I'd learned the usefulness of putting your adversary at ease. I'd perfected the art of the sneak attack. In this case, I hoped I didn't have to use it.

  I felt isolated and alone. In this and everything. I didn't sleep alone anymore, but I may as well have. Having Kay's hot, shapely body in the bed next to me night after night only provided temptation. And the fear of embarrassing wet dreams.

  Besides, she messed with my sleep app. It recorded her body movement as well as mine. And man, was she an active sleeper! At least according to the app. I checked the data after our first night together and it was like she'd been jumping on the bed with wild abandon. I wished it meant we'd been having vigorous sex. Which, to my great frustration, I knew for a sad fact was not the case. It must have been a bug in the software. Kay hardly moved when she slept.

  I'd had a moment of excitement, thinking the app would have recorded the movement of me and the ID thief having sex, if there had been any. The app showed nothing but the slumber of the dead. Then I remembered I'd been drugged and hadn't even gotten the phone out of my pocket that night. So, as far as legal proof, that was a no-go. At the same time, I realized sleeping with my phone didn't exactly make me look suave, anyway. I didn't need to emphasize my nerdiness. It made itself known all on its own without any conscious help from me.

  At least I was used to flying solo and handling shit myself. Most of the time I preferred it. I could talk to Harry. He was one more confidant than I'd had as a kid.

  * * *

  Justin

  Even though I preferred small gatherings and time to myself, I was behaving myself at Britt's party. Trying to be social, even though it was exhausting for someone like me who pegged the introvert scale. It wasn't that I didn't like people. I wasn't antisocial. It was that being around lots of them wore me out and sapped my energy.

  I smiled and nodded at a blur of introductions on the terrace of Britt's apartment building. She lived a couple blocks from Kay's West Seattle apartment. I hadn't realized how much I'd upset her routines and social life. She had a large circle of friends. Did she miss being so near them?

  When I'd proposed this crazy solution to my marital and business problems, I hadn't had time to think through everything. I worked all the time. I hadn't stopped to think Kay would be differ
ent. That she was probably as extroverted as I was introverted. That she would feed off the energy of being around others. That I was proposing a mixed marriage of sorts.

  The terrace faced west, angled to get the optimum view of the jagged Olympic Mountains and the sun as it set over them. Britt and company had festooned the party space with crepe paper and flowers. Though Kayla enthused over the beautiful pink, saying it was just the color she would have chosen, to me everything was the dull gray of a rainy day.

  Britt had style. Her party décor highlighted it. She'd already buzzed around me, hinting, broadly, about a senior merch job at Flash. Damn, I could have given her one on the spot, I supposed. But going over the head of the VP of merchandising would have pissed her off. All the power of the universe of my company. And yet restricted by social conventions and employee relationships.

  I made a mental note to put in a good word for Britt. Subtly. So my VP thought hiring Britt was her idea. We poached talent from Britt's current employer, our bigger, badder rival across town, regularly. There was nothing out of the ordinary about snatching one of their people. I wasn't convinced, however, that having my wife's best friend working for me was the best idea. I wasn't sure I could avoid it, either. And live in any kind of marital bliss.

  A wedding cake—covered in gray fondant that I was told was pink, white polka dots, gray/pink and white flowers trailing over the side—sat on a table, center stage. With yet another cake topper in the showcase position. Let them eat cake was becoming our motto.

  It was an interesting study in human behavior to see how romantic or sentimental or comedic this group of Kay's friends was. I was surprised, though maybe I shouldn't have been, by their selection. It was clearly a joke. One that Kay seemed amused by this time.