Don't Mind If I Do : A Fake Marriage Romantic Comedy

by Everly Ashton

She tilts her chin up and kisses me again. I’m thinking of laying her back onto the kitchen table and having my way with her when she pulls back.

  “There’s one more thing.” She tilts her head back to look me in the eye. “I’ve decided what to do about Pembrooke Financial too.”

  This has been a difficult decision for her, so I’m curious to hear what she’s settled on. “Are you going to inject the money into the company to save it?”

  She bites her bottom lip and nods. “I am. Under a few conditions.”

  “Wow.” I’m actually taken aback. I thought she’d let her dad face the consequences of his own mistakes. “What are the conditions?”

  “My dad has to step down from leading the company. I’ll be involved in finding someone suitable to replace him, and they’ll oversee things. He’ll say he’s decided on an early retirement and will have nothing more to do with the company. I’ll give the money he owes back to the company and things will be business as usual.”

  “So your dad gets off scot-free and doesn’t have to face up to the fact that he’s a thief and a liar?”

  She steps back. “Nick, he’s my father.”

  The hurt on her face registers, but the idea that some rich bastard is getting away with breaking the law and having zero consequences because he can buy his way out of his problems doesn’t sit well with me. I’ve always liked Mazzy’s dad because I thought he was on the up and up. But to hear what he’s done to risk all those people’s lives at Pembrooke goes to show he’s no better than anyone else in that circle. The only thing that matters is what benefits him. And now he’s putting Mazzy right in the middle of it with him. That might be what I’m most mad about.

  “I get it, Maz, but he still did what he did.”

  “It’s about more than just him. There are all the employees and their jobs and their families relying on them to bring home a paycheck and benefits. The fallout of a scandal involving my father could be catastrophic for the company. What companies are going to trust a corporation to do their financials if the person running it uses it like their own pocketbook?”

  “Exactly!” I wave at her as though she proved my point.

  “What if he was charged and ended up having to go to jail? I couldn’t live with myself.”

  “Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time, isn’t that the saying?”

  She scowls and points at me. “I am not going to be responsible for sending my father to jail. I’m just not.”

  How can she not see her dad needs to be punished for what he did? If not, he’ll just do it all over again, but next time his father won’t die, and he won’t have his daughter to bail him out. “I can’t believe you’re bailing him out. I expected you to help the company, but I thought you’d let him deal with the fallout of his actions.”

  “This isn’t your business anyway. It’s my money.”

  Her words hang between us for a moment.

  A dark chuckle escapes me. “It always comes down to the money, doesn’t it? Why would I expect any different?”

  “You have to get rid of this giant chip on your shoulder. I know your childhood was hard and you don’t agree with the class structure in society. I get it. But this is not about money. It’s about family. Why can’t you see that?”

  “Your dad is a crook, and he deserves to be treated like one.”

  She blinks rapid-fire for a moment and I briefly wonder if I’ve crossed a line there’s no coming back from. But I’m honestly dumbfounded by her choice. After the past months, I’ve felt like we want the same things in life. That we’re on the same page, but right now it feels like we’re back on that street and there’s a crater between us. If we’re ever going to make this work, she has to jump to my side. She just has to.

  “It’s him or me, Maz. You need to decide.”

  Her hand flies to her stomach as though she might be sick. “You’re asking me choose?”

  “I love you, but I don’t know that I can be with someone who doesn’t stand up for what’s right.”

  She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Instead she bolts from the room. I hear her rush up the stairs and a door slams.

  Damn it. How did we get here again?

  Forty-Seven

  Mazzy

  I’m shocked that I managed to get any sleep last night. I expected to be tired this morning, but I figured it would be from sexing my husband all night, not because anxiety mixed with anger churned through my body.

  Nick had already left for work by the time I got out of bed and went downstairs. I heard him get up and knock softly on my door this morning, but I pretended to be asleep. I slept in the guest room last night. After his ultimatum, I couldn’t even look at him.

  I’m not ready to face him yet. I don’t know if he wants to apologize or get into it with me again, but this morning, I wasn’t mentally prepared for either. At least I’ve bought myself twenty-four hours since he won’t be home until tomorrow morning.

  I head over to the coffee maker to fill my cup and have to grip the counter when I’m racked with a dizzy spell. I think the lack of sleep and all the stress I’ve been under for the past week has taken its toll. Once I’ve recovered, I pour myself a cup of coffee and lean against the counter, sipping it and reflecting on last night.

  I didn’t expect Nick’s reaction. I know he’s sensitive about that kind of thing, and perhaps the fact that he has such a contentious relationship with his own father didn’t help. My dad pulling a stunt like this only proves everything Nick has ever said about the people who surrounded us most of our lives.

  Still… he’s my dad.

  After my ex-husband’s shenanigans, I know what it feels like to be humiliated publicly and I can’t inflict that on my dad. Not to mention the fallout my mother would have to endure.

  No, I won’t do it.

  And I can’t believe that Nick gave me an ultimatum.

  I set my mug on the counter. There’s no way I’m sitting around here all day crying into my caffeine. I need something to take my mind off all of this and relieve some stress.

  The gym.

  After I’ve changed, I drive my car to the gym and say a quick hello to the regulars I’ve gotten to know over the past six months. I’m not in the mood to chat though, so I keep it to quick waves.

  I hop on the treadmill, and it feels good to sweat out my frustration. Afterward, I lift free weights in my usual rotation of exercises. I’m working my triceps when I’m hit with a vertigo attack and the world spins.

  Shit.

  I lurch to the side as if someone put a rope around my neck and pulled it down from below. I cry out from the sharp pain in my head, and everything goes black.

  Forty-Eight

  Nick

  Ollie stands with me in the ER break room while I lose my shit.

  “I fucked up, man.”

  “Sounds like it,” he says.

  “Thanks for the support.” I glare at him.

  He shrugs. “It’s not anything you don’t already know.”

  “Well, tell me how to make it right. You’ve been in a relationship for a while now. What do you do for Jemma when you fuck up?”

  “Let’s see… when I leave the toilet seat up in the middle of the night and she falls in, a round of oral sex the next day usually gets me off the shit list.”

  “After showering, right?” I ask.

  He rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

  “I’m not talking about leaving the fucking toilet seat up. I’m talking about giving my wife an ultimatum between me and her father.” I push my hands through my hair.

  The slow grin that slides over Ollie’s face makes me want to punch him in the face.

  “What the hell are you smiling at?”

  “This is the first time I’ve heard you refer to her as your wife and not just Mazzy.”

  My hands drop. “I love her, man. I can’t lose her again.” Even I hear the desperation in my voice.

  “You’re not gonna lose her. We’ll figu
re this out.”

  The door to the break room flies open and the charge nurse bursts in. “Dr. Ryan, your wife is coming in by ambulance. ETA is two minutes.”

  My stomach bottoms out and bile rushes up my throat. “What?”

  “I recognized her name when the EMTs called in to give us an update.”

  I push past Norma and race down the hall. “What happened?”

  “She was at the gym and fell and hit her head on the end of a weight shelf. She has a contusion and she lost consciousness.”

  Fuck. I’d bet it was her Meniere’s.

  I reach the ambulance doors, Ollie by my side. He clamps a hand on my shoulder. “She’ll be okay, man. She will.”

  “You don’t know that.” I grip my hair in my hands.

  “Maybe you should let the other doctor tend to her. Or I can. You’re too close to this.”

  I whip my head in his direction. “No one else is seeing to my wife.”

  He puts his hands up in front of him. “Okay, got it.”

  The ambulance pulls up in front of the door less than a minute later, and it’s all I can do to keep my feet planted until the doors in the back swing open. Mazzy lies there with a trail of dry blood running down her face from the bandaged cut above her left temple. Her eyes are closed, but her coloring is good.

  “Maz!” I rush forward and help them get the stretcher out of the back. “Maz, can you hear me?”

  She blinks her eyes open but doesn’t say anything.

  “Give me an update,” I say to the EMT as we roll the stretcher inside.

  “Vitals are stable. Respirations are good. Lung sounds are good bilaterally. She was awake when we got there, but the caller said she was unresponsive when he called. She knows her name and the date, but she’s groggy.”

  “Get her into room number three.”

  As soon as she’s set up in the room, we re-check her vitals and everything looks good.

  “Mazzy, honey, can you hear me?”

  She opens her eyes and looks at me. I shine the pen light in each of them while one of the nurses cleans the wound on her head so we can see what we’re working with. Her pupils look good, which eases some of my worry.

  “Mazzy, do you know who I am?”

  “You’re my husband. What kind of stupid question is that?”

  Normally I’d chuckle at her attitude, but I can’t until I know for certain she’s okay. I take her hand. “Do you remember what happened?”

  “My Meniere’s. I fell and I think I hit my head.”

  I nod. “Are you still feeling dizzy?”

  She lets her eyes drift closed again. “Yes. I feel like I might throw up.”

  I ask the nurse to put in an IV and deliver some of Mazzy’s medicine and anti-nausea drugs.

  “On it.” The nurse rushes from the room.

  “We’re going to need to watch you for signs of a concussion, and you’re going to need stiches for the cut on your hairline.”

  “I want you to do it,” she says.

  I squeeze her hand. “You got it.”

  A hand on my shoulder makes me turn around. Ollie’s there. I totally forgot he was waiting with me at the doors.

  “You good?” he asks.

  I nod. “Thanks, man.”

  “Want me to order a CT for her while you’re doing the stitches?”

  He’s a good friend and he knows me well. Truth is, I probably wouldn’t order a CT Scan for another patient, but there are some perks to being the ER doctor’s wife.

  “That’d be great.”

  Mazzy’s a good sport, not complaining at all while I stitch her up, but it’s only once she’s returned from the CT and I see that everything looks normal that I have any sense of relief.

  And I’m more pissed at myself than ever. Because we shouldn’t fight about her dad getting what he deserves. She made her decision, and I shouldn’t have started a fight over it even if I didn’t agree. It was her money and her decision to make. She’s the most important thing in the world to me and that’s all that matters.

  Forty-Nine

  Mazzy

  My eyes flicker open. The first thing I notice is that my head hurts, and the second is I’m no longer dizzy. The third is that there’s a warm hand resting on my own. I look over and see Nick sitting beside me.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey, yourself. You gave me quite the scare.” He brings my hand to his lips and kisses each of my knuckles.

  “Anything for some attention.” I give him a weak smile that he returns. It takes me a minute to remember that the last time I saw him, we were at odds.

  “How are you feeling? Still dizzy?”

  I shake my head. “No, that’s gone. My head is sore though.”

  “You’ve got quite the gash.” He stands to inspect my cut.

  I hold back a smile, witnessing Dr. Ryan in action. “How’d you do? Is your line straight?”

  He sinks back down into his seat. “I’ll have you know I’m one of the best stitchers in this place.”

  “I feel honored that you used your talents on me.”

  “There’s a chance you might have a slight concussion, so I’m going to watch for signs of that. You need to take it easy for the next week at least.”

  “Okay.”

  We’re quiet for a moment, each in our own thoughts while we look at each other.

  “You really scared me, Maz.” He takes my hand again and squeezes.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “No, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry for being such an ass. It’s your money to do what you want with. I should never have interfered.”

  “That’s not true.” I squeeze his hand. “I want you to weigh in with your opinion, even if it’s not the same as mine. But you have to respect that I might see things differently, and if I do, it doesn’t mean that I’m not the person you think I am.”

  He nods emphatically. “You’re right. I let my own issues with my father and everything that happened when I was younger cloud my judgment. Can you ever forgive me?”

  His pleading expression melts my heart a little. How could he think I wouldn’t? After all, we’ve forgiven each other for worse.

  “Of course I forgive you. I love you.” I smile at him.

  “I love you too.” He stands and leans over the bed, pressing a light kiss on my forehead. “I’m never letting you go, Mrs. Ryan. You’re stuck with me forever.”

  “Good, because that’s exactly where I want to be.”

  Epilogue

  One Year Later…

  Mazzy

  The baby shifts and takes up residence directly on top of my bladder. I swear I pee more these days than I actually drink.

  I glance at the clock and see that there are only two minutes left of class, so I decide to finish up and hit the restroom on the way out of the seniors’ recreation center.

  Since I rediscovered my love for painting, I decided that it was something I wanted to do, but I didn’t want to paint pictures for myself and sell them. Let’s be honest, I don’t need the money. So I decided to spend time teaching seniors and children how to paint. They love learning something new and seeing the looks on their faces when they see improvement in their skills brings me great joy. I’m no master by any means, but I get by.

  “All right, everyone, that’s it for today. You all keep practicing that brush technique I showed you, and we’ll pick this back up next week.” I smile at the class.

  “If you don’t have that baby by then,” Agnes says, pointing at my swollen belly as though it’s not noticeable from Mars.

  I laugh and pat my stomach. “I don’t know, this little girl feels like she’s in no hurry to come out.”

  I pack up while a few people in the class come up to say thank you. After I’ve used the restroom and have everything in the car, I drive home.

  Nick and I decided to stay at his place. It works for now, but we’ll need to buy a bigger home if we expand our family past the littl
e girl in my belly. I’d like more children, but I’m not getting any younger. I’m just grateful for this gift that’s been growing inside me these past nine months.

  I still have my place in the city, and we stay there sometimes if we’re downtown for an event. I’m still very active on the charity circuit, and Nick tags along now without complaint. If we do happen to run into his brother or father, we simply keep our distance.

  I pull into the driveway and only grab my purse from the car, knowing Nick will be on me about carrying my art supplies into the house. I’m perfectly capable, but he’s been a little… overprotective, shall we say? I chalk it up to the fact that he’s a doctor and fully aware of all the things that could go wrong.

  I step into the house and find him standing in the entryway, waiting for me.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “Nothing.” As I slip off my shoes, he holds my hand. “Come with me.”

  He leads me into the living room, where I see that he’s set up a foot spa with rose petals in it.

  I grin at him. “Look at you.”

  “Sit in the chair and I’ll get you all set.”

  I do as he says and drop slowly into the chair, leaning back so my swollen belly doesn’t restrict my breathing. He bends down and removes my socks, rolls up my pants, and sets my feet in the warm water. It feels even better when he clicks a button and the bottom shakes, massaging my feet.

  “I figured your feet would be sore from standing during your class.”

  “You’re the best,” I say, rubbing my belly.

  “How are both my girls today?” He kisses my belly, and I run my fingers through his hair. He’s going to be the best father.

  As though she senses her father, our daughter gives a hard kick where his cheek is resting and we both chuckle.

  “I think she wants out of there,” he says.

  “Soon hopefully.”

  He stands and kisses my forehead. “You just relax. I’m going to go get you a treat.”

  “Yummy. Are you going to spoil me like this after the baby comes?”