Filthy Fiance: A Fake Engagement Romance

by Cat Carmine

  The rehearsal goes off without a hitch, and it seems like almost as soon as we start, we’re packing everything up again. Celia waits patiently while we load some of the stuff into Luke’s warehouse, and then I grab her and we head back to the SUV.

  Trent and Hannah booked the rehearsal dinner for an upscale restaurant not too far from Luke’s place, and Celia and I drive there. She’s quiet on the way, even when I try to make conversation.

  Come to think of it, she’s been quiet since we got back from the “Jace Tour,” as she called it. I’m surprised how much I’d enjoyed seeing the old neighborhood, but if I’m being honest, I think my enjoyment of it has a lot to do with who I was doing it with. Spending time with Celia is just so easy, so fun.

  Not at this exact moment, though. She’s gazing out the window, and she seems distracted. Maybe even a little sad.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Hmm?” She looks over at me. “Sorry. Just thinking about the wedding.”

  I don’t have time to press it any further, because just then we pull up in front of the restaurant. There’s valet parking so I hand my keys over to the attendant and escort Celia inside.

  Trent and Hannah have a private room reserved and the hostess leads us to the back of the restaurant. Everyone arrives within a few minutes of each other, and soon the room is filled with laughter, chatter, and a lot of excited energy.

  I can’t help but get caught up in the moment, but every time I catch Celia’s eye, she looks distracted. She makes polite conversation with Mom and with Hannah’s friend and sister, but I can see that something’s on her mind.

  We’re halfway through the soup course when Trent stands up, clinking on his glass.

  “Can I have everyone’s attention?” He asks, clearing his throat. “This is a very special weekend for me, as you know, because tomorrow I’m going to get to marry the love of my life, my best friend, and the sweetest little vixen I’ve ever known.”

  “Aw,” Hannah blushes and laughs, as everyone applauds. Trent leans down and kisses her sweetly.

  “But they always say weddings are as much about the people who celebrate with you — and it means a lot to me that our whole family is here together.

  “Mom, you made me the man that I am, a man who was worthy of a woman like Hannah. Your unconditional love and support of all your three sons and your husband have shown me what it means to be a true partner, and hopefully someday a parent.”

  I feel a lump in my throat, and when I look over at Mom, she’s dabbing her eyes. And unlike the other day, when she came to dinner with Celia and I, this time her tears are out of happiness.

  Trent takes a sip of champagne and then continues with his speech.

  “Luke.” Trent looks around and spots Luke. He grins, and Luke raises his glass. “You’re not just my brother, you’re my business partner, and I couldn’t imagine running Loft & Barn without you. Together we’re an unstoppable team and I’m so grateful for how you’ve welcomed Hannah into the fold.”

  “Cheers, buddy,” Luke says, raising his glass higher. “I love you, big guy.”

  “Love you too, man.” Trent takes another sip of champagne and then scans the room. “And Jace.”

  My throat tightens. Trent doesn’t say anything for a minute.

  “Jace, we’ve had our ups and downs, but you’re my brother and I love you. I’m glad you’re part of the wedding — chalk that up to another thing Mom was right about.”

  The crowd laughs and I start to relax a little. I raise my glass to Trent but he isn’t done.

  “And I just want to mention Celia while I’m up here as well.”

  I feel Celia stiffen beside me, but Trent is smiling over at us and I force myself to smile back.

  “We were all beyond shocked when Jace announced that he was engaged — but we were really shocked and blown away when you showed up. You’re everything I could have hoped for for my little brother, and I think we have you to thank for getting him out here this weekend.”

  I glance over at Celia and see a strained smile on her face, but she politely raises her glass. “Congratulations,” she mouths, tipping her glass towards Trent before taking a giant gulp.

  “Okay, I think that’s enough sappy stuff for one evening,” Trent finishes. “Let’s eat.”

  Everyone raises their glasses, and a rousing “Cheers!” goes out through the room.

  I glance over and Celia is taking another huge swallow of her champagne. I’m not sure how many glasses she’s had now, but I’m hoping she knows her limit.

  As we all settle back into eating, she seems to relax a little. By the time dessert arrives, she’s laughing at something Sloane is saying and actually seems to be having a good time.

  But she tenses again when Hannah comes over to our table.

  “Hey guys,” she says, slipping into an empty chair beside Celia. “I have something for you.”

  Celia looks at me, her eyes wide, and then back to Hannah. Hannah hands her a little white gift bag.

  Celia takes it warily. “What is this?”

  Hannah shrugs. “Just a little something.”

  Celia pulls out a bunch of sparkly tissue paper and then a small silver box.

  “Oh, Hannah, you shouldn’t have.” She opens the box to reveal a small pair of dangly pearl earrings. I hear her suck in her breath.

  Hannah shrugs. “They’re not exactly the same as the ones I got for the bridesmaids, but I wanted to get you something to tell you how excited I am that we’ll be sort of like sisters soon.”

  Celia bites her lip and then I see her wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. God, what is it about weddings that turn women into faucets? It seems like everywhere I look, someone is dabbing away tears.

  Celia stands up and wraps Hannah in a hug.

  “That’s so sweet of you,” she says. Over Hannah’s shoulder, though, I can see how her lip trembles. “I’d be lucky to be your ‘sort of sister’.”

  Hannah smiles, tightening the hug. “I can’t wait until we can get to know each other better. Trent says you and Jace are going to come out for Christmas? That’ll be so much fun!”

  “It will be,” Celia murmurs. She extricates herself from Hannah’s hug. “Thank you again for the lovely gift. If you’ll excuse me, though, I have to go to the ladies’ room. Too much champagne.”

  “Of course. I’m going to go say hi to a couple of other people.”

  Hannah leaves the table and Celia doesn’t even look at me before striding out of the room.

  Shit. I may not be an expert in fiancees, or even long-term girlfriends, but I know when a woman rushes to the bathroom with a quivering bottom lip, that you better go see what’s wrong.

  I push my chair back and head out into the hall to find her.

  21

  Celia

  I slip out of my chair and squeeze past the other guests, pushing my way out into the hallway. The private room we’re in leads into a vestibule area, part way between the kitchen and the rest of the restaurant. I stop there, to try to catch my breath.

  I don’t actually have to use the bathroom — in fact, I have no idea where the bathroom even is — but I needed to get out of there for a minute. I was starting to feel suffocated in that room.

  Hannah’s gift had been lovely — beyond lovely, really — and it was so kind of her to include me in her celebrations, and to think of me when she must have a thousand other things on her mind.

  But all I can think about now is how she would feel to know that I was a virtual stranger. Just a girl Jace picked up at a bar, a girl he was banging in exchange for a week’s worth of lies.

  I lean against the wall and tilt my head back, trying to get my breathing under control and keep the tears from flowing from my eyes.

  The door to the private room swings open, and Jace bursts out. He seems surprised to see me standing there, and he stops abruptly.

  “Celia, what’s wrong?”

  I hastily wipe the tears away. “Nothing
. I just got a little emotional.”

  “You’ve been quiet all evening.”

  He stands in front of me, putting his hands on the wall on either side of my head. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

  “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know.” I laugh ruefully.

  “Okay.” I can see the hesitation in his eyes, as if he knows he needs to tread carefully. “Can you be more specific?”

  I wipe away another stray tear and sigh.

  “I guess I just feel guilty about lying to your family like this. They’re all being so sweet to me, they’re making such an effort to include me in everything. How would they feel if they knew the truth? Do you think Hannah wants to know she’s been including a stranger in all her special wedding activities?”

  Jace tightens his jaw.

  “It’s not great,” he acknowledges. “But they won’t ever find out. I’ll just call them in a month or so and tell them we broke up. It happens, right? They’ll understand, and that’ll be the end of it.”

  “The end of it,” I say, huffing out a breath. “Right.” There’s a bitterness in my tone that I can’t seem to do anything to mask.

  “Hey,” he says, leaning closer. His lips are close enough that I could lean in and kiss him, and his scent envelops me warmly — cedar and sandalwood and clean Irish soap. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

  I raise my eyes to the ceiling, as if it will help me draw from some deep well of strength. Then I reach out and grab Jace’s tie, pulling him in so that his face is even closer, just inches from mine.

  “What are we doing, Jace?” My voice is hoarse, and in other circumstances, I’d say it sounds jazz-singer-sexy. Now it just sounds desperate.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean this … what is this? Because sometimes I think …”

  Jace sucks in a breath, his brow furrowing. Almost as if he knows what I’m about to say.

  I lets go of his tie. I lean back against the wall again, putting more space between us. A safe amount of space.

  “Sometimes I think this was a mistake,” I say. “I should never have agreed to pretend to be your fiancee.”

  “Pretend to be his what?” Trent’s voice comes from somewhere behind us.

  Fuck.

  Jace looks at me, his eyes wide in horror. I’m sure there’s an equivalent expression on my own face. I look over his shoulder and see Trent, coming out of the private room.

  He steps fully into the vestibule. His face is contorted in anger.

  “Pretend to be his what?” he says again, looking from Jace to me and back again.

  “Trent…” I try to start but I have no idea what to say. I look to Jace for help but he just blinks wildly and shakes his head as if he can’t believe what’s happening right now.

  Trent is standing next to us now, looking back and forth between Jace and I.

  “What’s going on here?” he demands. “Is this … is this all a lie? Jace? Just another lie?”

  Jace’s face cracks a little, and when he doesn’t deny it, Trent’s expression twists into a scowl.

  “I should have known,” he says bitterly.

  I need to get out of here. I can’t believe I did this — ten words and I managed to completely blow this for Jace.

  “I think I should go,” I say. My voice is barely more than a whisper. Jace reaches for my arm, but I duck out of his reach. “I’m sorry,” I say over my shoulder, though I don’t even know which of them I’m apologizing to, and with that I run, like a coward, out of the restaurant.

  22

  Jace

  “What the fuck, man?” Trent’s face is still twisted in anger. I’ve never seen him look this mad. At least not since …

  Not since the last time I lied to him.

  I put my hands out in front of me, as if I can stem the tide of his anger somehow.

  I look over my shoulder, to see if I can spot Celia, but she’s already dashed out of the restaurant. I’m torn between wanting to explain things to my brother, and wanting to chase after the woman I just might …

  “She’s not your fiancee?”

  Trent’s teeth are gritted, his jaw hard.

  I know there’s no point in lying — he heard what he heard.

  “No,” I admit.

  “So where’s your real fiancee?”

  I don’t say anything and understanding dawns on Trent’s face. “There is no fiancee. I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe I thought you’d actually grown up. I should have known — same old Jace.”

  My fists are balling at my side, but I don’t know if I’m more mad at Trent or at myself. I’m suddenly transported to that day ten years ago, when he’d called me into his office to bitch me out about losing the client. The day he’d fired me.

  “So what is she, some kind of escort? A prostitute?”

  “No!” God, is that what he thinks of her? “No, she’s just someone I know from the bar. Someone who agreed to help me out.”

  But the truth is so much more.

  Celia isn’t just a friend. She isn’t just someone I know from the bar. She’s someone I could really love.

  Someone I might actually already be in love with.

  Looking at Trent’s red face, though, I have no time to explain all this. I need to get to Celia. I need to tell her how I feel, before it’s too late.

  If it isn’t already.

  “Look, can we talk about this tomorrow?” I try to push past Trent but he grabs my arm.

  “No, we can’t talk about it tomorrow. Tomorrow is my wedding, Jace. Or have you forgotten that?”

  I sigh, even though he has every right to be mad at me. “I haven’t forgotten, Trent. I just have something I need to do right now.”

  He snorts. I try to push past him again, but he grabs my arm.

  For a second we both just look at each other.

  “Let go of me, Trent. We can talk about this later.”

  “No. I’m sick of this bullshit, Jace.”

  My body tenses. His hand is still gripped around my arm. I can feel his fingers digging in through my suit jacket.

  “Trent,” I say, through gritted teeth. He doesn’t let go though. If anything, his grip tightens. I need to get out of here. Celia is out there somewhere, wandering the streets, alone and upset.

  I yank my arm from his grasp and push past Trent, but he grabs me by the shoulder and spins me back around.

  I punch him.

  It happens before I even realize I’m doing it. My hand balls up and my arm sails forward and then my fist is connecting with his face. He staggers back a step, shock and anger and sorrow all flitting across his face in equal measure.

  “What the fuck, man?”

  Shit. Shit shit fuck.

  I bounce from foot to foot, still eyeing the front door of the restaurant. I make a choice.

  “I’m sorry, man. I have to find her. I love her, and I hope that under your anger you can see that my heart’s in the right place this time.”

  I don’t wait for him to answer, because I’ve already been standing here for too long. And because I can tell by the expression on his face that he doesn’t understand. Not at all.

  Fuck it.

  I have to find Celia.

  I burst through the restaurant and out the front doors onto the sidewalk. I look frantically around for her, for any sight of the pale pink dress she was wearing. There are a million people around, or at least it seems like it, but Celia isn’t one of them.

  “Celia!” I call her name, and then shout it louder. People are leaving me a wide berth on the sidewalk now, and I know I must look half deranged.

  Fuck. I don’t see her anywhere. I go to the end of the block and peer around the corner, looking around in all directions, trying to see if I can figure out which way she went. My breathing is coming hard now, and it’s half adrenalin and half terror. Adrenalin from punching Trent and terror that I might have irrevocably fucked things up with Celia.

 
; I grab my phone out of my pocket and jab at her contact info as I walk back toward the restaurant, but the phone just rings and rings before finally going to voicemail. Even the sweet sound of her voice in the recorded greeting is enough to slay me.

  “Can I help you, sir?”

  I spin around and see the valet from the restaurant, the blonde kid who’d parked my car for me earlier. I breathe deeply.

  “Yeah. Did you see a woman in a pink dress? Black hair?”

  He grins. “Big tits? Really…” he holds out his hands in front of his chest but drops them as soon as he sees how meanly I’m glaring at him. He swallows. “Yes, sir. She got into a taxi just a couple of minutes ago. Right before you came out of the restaurant.”

  Fuck. Okay, Jace, breathe. This is okay. She probably just went back to the hotel. You can find her there, tell her how you feel. Tell you were an idiot not to see it sooner. Tell her you’ll fix things with Trent, that you don’t care.

  The kid is still staring at me, his expression somewhat wary. “Can I get your car for you, sir?”

  “Yes, you can get my fucking car for me. Jesus. And hurry.”

  The kid scurries away and I run my hands through my hair in frustration. As I stand there waiting, I realize that Trent hasn’t come out of the restaurant looking for me. In fact, no one has.

  By now he’s probably told all of them about my lie. My whole family will know that Celia isn’t my fiancee, that I’m still just the fuck-up I was ten years ago.

  How did this go so wrong?

  I shake my head. Because you’re an idiot, Jace. Who but an idiot would think that a half-cocked scheme to enlist a fake fiancee would actually work?

  The kid still hasn’t come back with my car but I’m tired of waiting. I have to get back to the hotel. Now.

  I flag down a cab.

  “Grand Windsor Hotel,” I tell the driver. “And there’s an extra hundred in it for you if you can get me there in ten minutes or less.”