Lucky Charm: A St. Patrick's Day Irish Billionaire Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  I looked away from the tombstones that were far too little to be in a place like this. My heart sank to my stomach as we worked our way to the edge of the cemetery, to a plot with a small headstone coming into view. It was shaded by the trees that outlined the entire cemetery.

  My eyes scanned over the headstone, and I sighed. It was plain, with no embellishments and no quote carved into the granite to signify something important about the life Zach was remembering. All that was engraved was the birth and death date of the woman whose name was carved into the top of the headstone.

  “Melissa Harte Laine,” I said. My fists clenched at my sides as we continued to stand there in silence.

  “My father is Kent Laine, of Kent Enterprises,” Zach said.

  “I know,” I said lightly.

  He slowly turned his head to look at me, and the guarded stare he gave me broke my heart. Whatever it was I was fruitlessly clinging to was gone.

  The look of adoration he had once given me had turned to ice and fallen away the moment I slammed that birth certificate into his chest. In the back of my mind, I knew this was going to happen. It was why I kept putting off telling him the truth in the first place.

  It didn’t make his expression hurt any less.

  “There’s a lot going on in my life right now,” he said. “There always has been, but right now, it’s overwhelming me.”

  “I can only imagine,” I said.

  “Whatever you thought you’d find coming back here, it’s not going to work. I can’t make things work between us.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Between this stuff with Marlie, and you living in Seattle, and the fact that I apparently don’t know you at all, I can’t make it work.”

  I had to swallow back my tears at his words as my eyes traveled along his body. “Zach, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I get it.”

  “Do you really?” he asked.

  His entire face turned toward mine, and I committed every detail to memory. I took a mental photograph of his beautiful eyes and studied the strong features of his face. He must’ve looked like his mother because there wasn’t much of his father in his features. I reached up to touch him, and he flinched away. Then he stood up straight again.

  My fingers brushed his hair away from his forehead, and I sighed as I dropped my hand. He had his father’s forehead, and I started wondering if he wore his hair long to cover it up.

  “You must look like your mother,” I said.

  “I’m all him,” Zach said.

  “No,” I said. “You’re not.”

  His eyes connected hard with mine, and his face melted into stone. I dropped my gaze to his chest and conjured the memory of his warmth one last time. Once I walked away from this cemetery, I would never see Zach again. He would be gone, traveling his path alone as I scrambled to figure out where the hell my life was taking me now.

  I wanted to tell him I’d quit my job, and I could stay here longer and help him figure things out. I wanted to throw my arms around him and beg for his forgiveness and tell him that I was still the woman he had gotten to know. That nothing about myself as a person had been a lie.

  “Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “What was the point?”

  Zach’s eyes hardened before he turned his gaze back down to his mother’s grave. “I made my mother a promise, and now I’ve kept it.”

  I knew better than to ask what that promise was, but it didn’t stop me from wondering.

  I nodded. “I’ll catch a cab.”

  “I’ll take you back. Don’t worry.”

  “No. You should stay here. To be with her and seek out her soul.”

  He heaved a heavy sigh, but he didn’t deny what I was saying.

  “Take care of your little girl,” I said.

  “I haven’t made a decision yet.”

  “And when you do, take care of her.”

  His eyes turned toward me, but I just walked away. I pulled out my phone and called for an Uber as I walked back through the cemetery. Tears crested the rims of my eyes, and they fell down my cheeks. My sorrow matched the mood of this place. I knew Zach was going through a lot, and I knew better than to push anything else onto him, but I wanted to help.

  I wanted to be here to guide him through all this shit.

  I stood by his bike and took one last look at it. I placed my hand on the helmet I’d worn getting here just as the Uber driver pulled up. I sniffled and wiped my arm across my face before I turned back toward Zach, taking in his distant form at the edge of the cemetery.

  “Take care of yourself,” I whispered.

  A gust of wind kicked up around me and blew in Zach’s direction, as if to carry my whispered words directly to his ears. It swirled my hair around my face and almost knocked me off my feet. I braced myself against his bike as I stumbled, and the smell of his body that had soaked into the leather seat trickled up my nose.

  It was a scent I would never forget, and I committed that one last detail to memory before I pushed myself up, wiped away my tears, and got into the car that was waiting for me.

  Zach had a life to live on his own, and I had to come to terms with that. What had bloomed between us was only temporary. I just wished it hadn’t been.

  Chapter 36- Zach

  As I dragged myself into work the next morning, I was nowhere close to having an answer for Marlie. I stayed up all night trying to figure out what the fuck I should tell her, and by the time my work alarm went off, I was nowhere closer to an answer.

  I got on my computer and read all night about shit I had to do for a four-year-old. I watched videos on how to put a toddler in their car seat, and I read all sorts of shit on potty training and kindergarten and what the fuck to do if a toddler was still sucking their thumb.

  Did Blithe suck her thumb?

  I was inundated with information by the time got ready for work. Tea was going to do nothing to keep me awake for my shift, so I swung through a coffee shop and grabbed the biggest cup they had before going to work.

  The moment Caden laid his eyes on me, he pulled me off to the side.

  “What the fuck is that shit?” Caden asked.

  “You drink it every morning,” I said. “Don’t you recognize it?”

  “It’s fucking coffee. I know that. But why are you drinking it? Where’s that bullshit tea of yours?”

  “In a cabinet somewhere, I guess,” I said.

  “Okay. Sit.”

  “Dude, I gotta go clock in,” I said.

  He laid his hand on my shoulder. “You can be late ten minutes. You’re good. Sit.”

  “No, I can’t be late,” I said, shaking his hand off. “I can’t do anything to risk my job right now.”

  “Holy hell, I’ll talk to the boss. You’re drinking coffee. You’ve been up all night. Something happened.”

  “You remember that conversation we had about me never going on dates?” I asked. “And I kept trying to recall that one woman I’d seen more than once?”

  “The fuck does that have to do with anything?”

  “You remember Marlie, right?”

  “Oh, shit. The woman with the thigh-high boots. Hell yeah, I do. You saw her more than once?”

  “Three other times after that night on the docks,” I said.

  “Did she show up last night or something? Oh fuck, did Paige find you two? This shit blew up in your face, didn’t it?”

  “Would you shut your damn mouth?” I asked. “Marlie’s dying, and we have a daughter.”

  Caden’s face fell instantly as he pulled me down into a chair. “What?”

  “Marlie has cancer,” I said. “And it’s killing her. And we have a daughter. A four-year-old.”

  “And you know this is your kid,” he said.

  “She looks just like me,” I said. “And I’ve seen her birth certificate, courtesy of Paige.”

  “Wait, why the hell did Paige have your daughter’s birth certificate?”

  “I don’t know,
and I honestly don’t want to know. Look, things are so fucked up right now it’s insane. I was up all night reading information on how the fuck to manage a four-year-old. Marlie wants me to take Blithe from her when she dies.”

  “Well, yeah, you’re her father,” Caden said.

  “But I don’t know the first damn thing about being a father,” I said.

  “You think Marlie had any idea how to be a mother when she got pregnant?”

  I shrugged. “At least she had nine months to prepare for this shit.”

  “Fair enough, but still not quite what I’m getting at,” he said. “The mother of your child is dying, and she’s shown up to hand the kid over so she can grow up with family. That’s a noble fucking thing, especially since she originally chose not to tell you shit about your daughter. I’m assuming you didn’t know, right?”

  “Of course, I didn’t fucking know, Caden.”

  “Just making sure,” he said. “Look, a child’s life is at stake here. You didn’t know you were a dad, but now you do. And the decisions you make from here on out are going to affect her, whether you like it or not. Yes, you didn’t have a role model for ‘father of the year’ growing up, but you know what you did have?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “A model of what not to do, and in my book, that shit’s just as valuable.”

  “I can’t raise a daughter living the life I do,” I said.

  “So, change it, moron. Talk to the boss, and tell them what’s going on. You’ve worked here for years, never been late.”

  “Until now,” I said.

  “And you’ve always taken shifts when people call out. They’ll work with you. And if you need a new place, then fucking get one. I’ll help you find one. One that’s safer and got a yard maybe, for… what’s her name again?”

  “Blithe,” I said.

  “For Blithe to run around.” He paused. “What the fuck kind of name is that?”

  “The name of my daughter,” I said heatedly.

  Caden laughed. “See? You’re already feeling protective of your little girl. And that’s just about her name, which you didn’t even fucking choose, I might add. Do you really want some other assholes raising her?”

  I sighed as I leaned back into the chair. He had a point.

  “You’ve been floundering for a long time now, and for good reason,” Caden said. “But it’s time for you to step up. It’s time for you to root yourself. It’s time for you to have a purpose in life.”

  “I’ve been telling you that for years,” I said.

  “But I’ve never had a reason to do it. You’ve got a kid now, Zach. It’s time to be the father that yours never was.”

  “Sounds like your friend has a point.”

  I whipped my head around at the sound of my boss’s voice.

  “Derek,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Let me go clock in.”

  “Save it. I’ve been standing here for like five minutes,” he said.

  I looked over at Caden, but all he did was shrug and give me a smug little smile.

  “Were you mouthing that advice over my head to him?” I asked.

  “Believe it or not, that was all him,” Derek said.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk,” Caden said.

  Derek sat in the chair beside me, giving me a sympathetic look. “Caden is right. If you’ve got a kid, it’s time for you to step up. I don’t know the details, and I don’t need to know. Take the day off and do what you gotta do. Then come talk to me. We’ll get you on a schedule that works for you.”

  “I’m not sure I’m gonna be ready to talk about this before the weekend’s out,” I said. “There’s still a lot to figure out.”

  “I know there will be. That’s why you’re not gonna be scheduled to work next week.”

  “Derek, I’ll find a way to—”

  “Mr. Harte, I’m not going to tell you this again. Get the hell out of here, and go fix your damn life.”

  I drew in a deep breath through before I nodded. “I’ll call you when I have an idea of what I’m getting into.”

  “Don’t do that, because then I’ll never hear from you,” he said. “I’ll talk with you Sunday.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I pulled out the piece of paper in my pocket and dialed Marlie’s number. I told her I was coming by the hotel and that we needed to talk. I raced through the city, hoping I hadn’t waited too long to make this decision. I didn’t know what the fuck I was about to get myself into, but I knew Caden was right.

  They were all right.

  I pulled into the hotel parking lot and saw Marlie standing out front. She had a stroller she was pushing that held our beautiful daughter, and a small smile crept across my cheeks. I got out of the car, and she came walking toward me, her frail body basking in the sun as she grinned at me.

  I held out my arms for her and embraced her as we stood in the middle of the parking lot.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked. “We could go get something to eat somewhere. My treat.”

  “I was actually hoping we could just take a walk. I’m a bit stiff, and Blithe loves the outdoors.”

  “I’d like to hear more about her, actually,” I said.

  “Wait. Does that mean…” Marlie’s big brown eyes looked up into mine with hope in them, and I felt a surge of happiness just before I answered her.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m taking Blithe.”

  Marlie threw her arms back around me, and I held her close. I could feel how frail her body had become. My fingers sank into the ridges of her ribcage, and I could feel her body trembling. It was sixty-two degrees outside, but she shivered like it was below freezing. I put her down and shrugged off my coat before I wrapped it around her shoulders. Then I escorted her to the sidewalk so we could take a leisurely stroll.

  “Thank you so much, Zach,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know how I can repay you. I’m so sorry for keeping this from you.”

  I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers as she pushed the stroller in front of her body.

  “May I?” I asked.

  We stopped briefly so she could hand the stroller off to me.

  “I don’t want to waste our time with apologies. You made the best decision for our daughter when you found out you were pregnant, and now, I’m repaying the favor. I’m making the best decision for our daughter under the circumstances.”

  I looked over and saw tears pouring down Marlie’s face.

  “Please don’t cry,” I said.

  “I’m just so relieved,” she said. “I’m so happy Blithe will still be with family.”

  “Does she not have anyone else? I mean, grandparents on your side or anything that want to see her?”

  “My whole family practically disowned me when they found out I was pregnant. Compliments of a staunchly religious family.”

  “So, it’s been just you?” I asked. “For four years?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. She’s a good kid. Very shy and doesn’t talk much. She’s very low maintenance.”

  “Does she have any allergies to anything?” I asked.

  “Not that I’ve found, but she’s never been a sickly kid. Never been hospitalized or on any major medication. I’ve got all her medical files and stuff in my car.”

  “Wait, you have all of her stuff here?” I asked.

  “I do,” she said.

  The two of us stopped at a crosswalk. “When are you turning her over to me?” I asked.

  “As soon as you can take her.”

  We walked in silence until we came upon a park. I could hear Blithe shifting around in her stroller, so I stepped in front of her to unbuckle her. She immediately curled into the back of her stroller, trying to get away from me as her eyes stared at me with wild uncertainty.

  I looked up at Marlie, and she urged me to keep going.

  I unbuckled her from her stroller and held my hands out for her. She didn’t come to me, but I lifted her out of the stroller anyw
ay. The moment I settled her onto her feet, she took off for the swings, throwing herself at one and giggling as she scurried up onto it.

  “Does she need any help or anything?”

  Marlie shook her head. “She’s very independent. I wonder who she gets that from.”

  I grinned at the sentiment as I watched my daughter swing herself on the swings. “You’re sicker than you let on, aren’t you?”

  “No point in trying to coax you into this with fear,” Marlie said.

  “How long do you really have?” I asked.

  “I don’t really know,” she said.

  “Give me a ballpark.”

  She sighed heavily as Blithe’s giggles filled my ears.

  “Six weeks ago, they told me I had four weeks,” she said. “So, who knows?”

  I turned to look at her, my body shielding her from the wind that was starting to pick up out of nowhere. “Does that mean there’s a chance that you’ll pull through?”

  “No. It just means I have a great deal of willpower. Some days, I feel like I could conquer the world, and some days, I can’t even open my eyes. Those days scare me, and they’re coming more frequently now.”

  I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and drew her frail body close to mine.

  “I can feel it coming,” she said. “It’s weird, you know? I’ve read biographies of people where their loved ones said they could feel the end coming. That the person dying just knew it was about to happen. I can feel it in my bones, Zach. It’s coming, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  I felt stomach bile rising up my throat, and burning tears stung the backs of my eyes.

  “I have all her things in my car,” she said. “Everything from her medical history, all the way to her favorite stuffed animal. I have a notebook I’ve written everything down in. What she likes to eat and what she likes to do. Habits she has that I’m keeping an eye on and things she’s starting to learn. Things she’s still struggling with that I’m working with her on and things coming up that you’ll have to coordinate. Like preschool and kindergarten and stuff like that.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “I’m going to need that.”

  “Don’t feel overwhelmed. It takes time. She’ll have to warm up to you, and you’ll have to warm up to her. But I know this is the right thing. I know there’s no better place for her to be.”