Daddy's Virgin Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance

by Juliet Woods

  “No, leave it. I’ll try it. When in Rome,” she smiles.

  She helps prepare the lettuce, tomatoes, and onions for the burgers. I sneak a glance at her ass while she’s at the sink. And when she’s at the cutting board, I’m pretty sure I catch her checking out my physique, too.

  Maybe I should have told her she was sharing a bed with me.

  Maybe that’s what she wanted.

  Chapter 13

  Lily

  I wake up feeling better rested than I have in years. The bed is so comfortable, but it’s more than that.

  I feel so safe here. It’s a luxury I haven’t had in years. It feels so nice that I wonder how I made it all these years constantly having to look over my shoulder.

  I open my eyes, and to my astonishment, I see many of the potted plants from my apartment sprinkled about in the room. Except they’ve all been re-potted. They’re no longer in the rag-tag assortment of milk jugs, cheap plastic pots, and the like. No, they’re in high-end ceramic and porcelain pots and planters.

  Did Ethan hire movers to bring them here, and a gardener to re-pot them so carefully and skillfully, in the middle of the night?

  It wouldn’t surprise me at all.

  I’m amazed at how he lives. The apartment – the penthouse – is stunning. I’ve never seen such extravagance in my life. And he said he has staff. A whole fleet of people working just to make him comfortable.

  If I weren’t so thrilled to be able to enjoy all this luxury, I might feel a little jealous. Somehow, knowing Ethan wasn’t born into this lifestyle, that he worked to build all this, makes him more real to me.

  I spring out of bed, my feet luxuriating in the plush Oriental rug as I stand, and check on all my plant babies. They’re doing well, adjusting to their new containers and home. I did miss them – it’s sweet how Ethan gets that.

  After my shower, which is incidentally the best shower of my life, I head to the enormous closet where I hung up my clothes last night. I sigh, looking over the assortment of ill-fitting thrift store threads. They stand out like a sore thumb in all this luxury.

  I’m about to put on some sloppy elastic waistband pants and a T-shirt when something else catches my eye. A form-fitting, knee-length black skirt, and a fitted pink blouse with off-the-shoulder sleeves – a birthday gift from Callie, who's always trying to get me to dress better. Admittedly, I don't wear it that often, though I do appreciate her generosity. I guess I’m more comfortable in clothes that kind of hide my body. But today, I don't feel like hiding. I put on the outfit and am pleased to see my curves in the mirror, though it does feel, well, revealing compared to my normal attire.

  I plait my long hair in a side braid, throw on some mascara, and walk toward the kitchen, where I find the smell of bacon frying and Ethan wearing an apron and holding a spatula.

  I love that he can cook.

  “Smells great,” I say, surprising him.

  “Good morn--” He turns around and stops mid-word, gawking at me up and down with a surprised look on his face.

  “What, am I wearing my shirt inside out?” I ask, looking down to inspect my clothes. That would be classic Lily.

  “No, no – you look perfect,” he smiles. “I like that top you're wearing.”

  He stares at my bare shoulders, and I can feel my face turning hot and red.

  “How did you sleep?” he asks, turning reluctantly back to the skillet of sizzling bacon, as if he doesn't want to tear his eyes away.

  “It was the best night's sleep I've had in a long time,” I sigh, leaning on the kitchen island. “I had no idea how terrible my futon was until I slept on the bed in your spare room.”

  He chuckles. “And how do you like the plants?”

  “Oh! They're beautiful in their new pots. Did you really have them moved into my room while I slept?”

  “Yeah, my gardener thought it would be a nice surprise. I've never seen such a heavy sleeper. A hurricane wouldn’t rouse you. By the way, did you check out the living room?”

  I shake my head no.

  “Go take a look.” I’m not sure which way the living room is in this enormous apartment. He sees my confusion and points to my left.

  I stumble into the living room and my jaw drops. The space has been transformed, magically, overnight, into a beautiful indoor garden. I spot my fig tree and my orchids near the seating area, the ivies and ferns hanging overhead, and the cactus collection on a shelf near the window. And there are new plants too – a pineapple, ficus, and some culinary herbs. It feels like a miniature, enchanted forest.

  “Do you like it?”

  I turn around to see Ethan standing behind me.

  I struggle to find the right words. “It's like from my dreams,” I clumsily gush. “I adore it. Thank you!”

  I throw my arms around his shoulders and he laces his fingers around my back, pulling me in tight. I want to melt into him, to lose myself inside those arms. But my brain rebels, giving in to anxiety. I pull away from him. The blood rushes to my face.

  I search for the right thing to say to make the moment less awkward.

  “How on earth did you get all this done already? It's only 10 am!”

  He smiles, unfazed by my abrupt movement and frantic need to change the subject.

  “I have really good people who work for me. I make it worth their while to take care of me.”

  Oh. Yeah, I guess money will get you anything, I note with a twinge of resentment. It sure would have made my life easier all these years.

  But I shake away those thoughts. Ethan's more than willing to share his good fortune with me, apparently.

  “Well, I love it. Your people did a great job. But you don't mind turning your living room into a jungle like this?”

  “Actually, I kind of like all the greenery. Change is good for the mind – keeps you from getting old and stuck in your ways. And besides, Masie will love it. She's always complaining about the color scheme in here – she says it's too much white and gray.”

  I smile, touching my favorite orchid, now happily living in a bigger, more beautiful ceramic pot.

  “Come on, let's get some breakfast. We have a wedding to attend.”

  An hour later, Ethan's lawyer, Harry, shows up. He's with the county clerk, whom he introduces as an old friend. You just happen to be friends with the county clerk? I think. These people live in such a different world from me.

  Harry pulls from his briefcase the marriage papers, sneaking a glance at me – out of curiosity, I suppose.

  Everything has happened so fast that I haven't had much time for it to sink in. But as I stare at the documents, pen in hand, it finally hits me.

  I'm going to be married. To a billionaire named Ethan Davidson.

  To a man so sexy, so desirable, I never could have imagined even talking to him in a million years.

  Granted, we sleep in separate bedrooms. But still.

  We all sit in Ethan's home office. They're looking at me as I read the documents over.

  “Reading before she signs – you've picked a smart one, Ethan,” Harry says. “Most people just sign without even looking.”

  After having gone through legal proceedings before to get my emancipation, I know to read what I'm signing.

  “This says my new name will be Lily Nicole Davidson,” I say, pointing with my pen to the line in the document. “I don't want to lose my maiden name. It should be Lily Nicole Cairns Davidson.”

  I push the papers over to Harry.

  He exchanges a smile with Ethan and opens up his laptop.

  “You did well, Ethan,” he says, making the change to the document and printing it out again on Ethan's printer.

  Bringing it to me and pointing to the line in question, he says, “Lily Nicole Cairns Davidson.”

  I look up at Ethan, who winks at me. Reading over the last page, I don't see anything unexpected, and with a deep breath, I sign my name.

  The clerk announces in his booming voice, “OK, Lily and Ethan – congrat
ulations! You are now officially married.”

  Despite the nervousness brewing in my belly, I can't help but feel a smile spread across my mouth as I look up at Ethan. He has a conspiratorial expression on his face, as if to say, Can you believe we actually got away with this?

  Harry and the county clerk leave in good cheer, slapping Ethan on the back and politely telling me goodbye. Ethan closes the door, and we're left standing in the foyer, staring at each other.

  “So, you think this will work?” I ask quietly.

  “It has to,” he says, a serious expression on his face.

  Shoving his hands into his pockets, he walks into the living room to stand at the window and look down at the city below.

  “You know, Lily, we're going to have to be social as a couple. Make public appearances. As husband and wife.”

  This piece of information probably would have been good for him to mention before we got married.

  “What?” is all I can manage to ask.

  He turns to look at me. “I thought you knew that. We have to convince the judge that we're happily married and in love, and to do that we have to make public appearances. I run in a tight-knit community of business people, investors, and the like. Word gets around. It wouldn't look good for the case if people didn't at least see us out together.”

  “B – But you know I have problems with anxiety,” I start. “Social anxiety, namely. It’s very difficult for me to be thrown into situations with a lot of new people.”

  He pauses, then sighs. “Yeah, I know. Let’s take this just one step at a time. How about we ease into things? Instead of going to a big party today, let’s just go for a walk in the park? Kind of a test run as… as my wife.”

  His wife. I know the words felt a little unnatural for him to say, and they sound surprising for me to hear.

  “I – I can do that,” I smile weakly, still reeling from the knowledge that I’m now someone’s wife. A heady mixture of excitement and nervousness swirl through my belly.

  We walk through Central Park’s expanse of lush green grass among all the other New Yorkers happy to retreat from the long hibernation of the winter.

  “Are you sure your daughter will be OK with a new, strange person living in the house?”

  Ethan’s daughter is one of my main worries. What if she doesn’t like me?

  “Don’t worry. She’ll be thrilled. Maybe not at first, but it won’t take long for her to warm up to you.”

  “That’s not entirely reassuring,” I say.

  “I’m going to talk with her about it when I pick her up in a few hours. It’ll be OK.”

  “I’m a stepmother,” I say, amazed that I can call myself that at age 20.

  “Yes, you are,” he says, smiling.

  I try to sneak glances at him. If only I knew what he was thinking. I understand that this marriage is to save his daughter, but he also said he liked me. Is he hoping for more than just a pretend wife?

  And suddenly, he grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers. Like he’d done it a thousand times before. The contact with his skin thrills me; my heart soars. He does want more, doesn’t he?

  He bends down to whisper in my ear, “I know those people up there. Just play along.”

  Oh. It’s not a genuine sign of affection. It’s just for show.

  My heart starts to pound as I spot the couple he’s talking about.

  “Ethan Davidson, is that you?” croons a snooty-looking, but beautiful, woman dressed in white, flowing clothes. Actually, the clothes aren’t white. I guess you’d call that color ecru. Accompanying her is a bored-looking man wearing the latest threads from GQ, I suppose.

  “Cindy, Ted, what a surprise,” Ethan grins as we approach the couple. “Enjoying the weather?”

  “Yes, and who is this darling girl with you?” she looks me up and down as if appraising a piece of furniture. I want to step on her flowy clothes to trip her.

  “Cindy and Ted Hamilton, meet Mrs. Lily Cairns Davidson.” Ethan puts his arm around my shoulders and beams proudly. “We’ve just been wed.”

  Cindy coos. “Oh, well isn’t that just wonderful! Congratulations, both of you!”

  “Thank you,” I mutter.

  “However did you two meet?”

  Shit. We don’t have any kind of story to tell them. But not surprisingly, Ethan speaks up, confident and bold as ever.

  “Lily was under my employ,” he says. “Until we realized we just couldn’t carry on without each other any longer. We’re very happy.”

  “How delightful!” Cindy claps her hands together, then elbows Ted, who appears semi-catatonic.

  “Yes, delightful,” he parrots back, obviously bored to tears.

  “We’d better get home now. You know how it is with the newly married. Hard to stay out of the bedroom for too long,” Ethan says, winking. Cindy looks startled, as if someone shoved the stick farther up her butt.

  “Nice to meet you both,” I say.

  “Lovely to meet you, too, dear,” Cindy says.

  Ted nods, apparently not able to rouse himself enough to speak.

  “Take care now,” Ethan says, interlacing his fingers with mine again and leading us away.

  Once safely out of sight and earshot, we both burst out laughing uncontrollably.

  “Did you see the look on her face?” He asks, doubled over, falling onto the grass cackling.

  “‘This darling girl!’” I mimic her high-pitched voice, landing beside him.

  “‘Delightful!’”

  “Those are your friends, Ethan? Those people are so fake!”

  “I know, they’re like walking clichés,” he says, still laughing. “I’ve always thought that.”

  He catches his breath and puts his hand on my knee. “It’s great to laugh with you about it. These are the type of people I sometimes have to deal with in my line of work. There’s so much ass kissing that some people stop being real.”

  I look at him. “But you’re still real.”

  He looks at me and smiles. “Thanks – that’s a true compliment. It’s hard not to lose perspective in this world of business and finance. People just sell their souls to get ahead.” He pauses, looking at me. “That’s what I like about you, you’re not interested in all that.”

  His hand feels so hot on my knee. I mentally will him to slide it up my thigh, for him to bend in close and kiss me. But instead, he takes his hand off and looks at his watch.

  “Come on, let’s go home.”

  I fight the disappointment threatening to reveal itself on my face. Instead, I lift the corners of my mouth, letting him help me up from the grass.

  Chapter 14

  Ethan

  “Daddy, we wrote Act Two of the play!” Masie exclaims as she bounces down the sidewalk to the car.

  “That’s great, honey!”

  “Yeah, in this part the aliens are going to make contact with the humans!”

  My daughter, the 8-year-old science fiction playwright. She takes after her mother. Sara told me she was writing little books by the time she started second grade.

  I grin as I climb into the car beside her and maneuver the car into traffic.

  “I want to hear all about it, but first, where do you want to eat lunch?”

  “Mama Mia!”

  No surprise there. Masie’s been in a pizza phase for a few weeks now.

  Over pepperoni and mushroom pizza, she tells me all about her play. I watch her face light up as she describes the plot and the characters – she’s so creative!

  Finally, when she’s had her fill of pizza and has told me every detail, I decide the time has come to tell her about Lily. I take a deep breath.

  “Masie, do you remember I told you I had to talk to you about something?”

  “Yes?”

  “Well, you know how Daddy sometimes has lady friends?”

  Masie nods her head. Though I’ve kept my “lady friends” out of Masie’s life, she does have a vague understanding that I go on dates someti
mes.

  “I’ve met one very special friend, and I care for her very much.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Lily.”

  Masie nods. “Like the flower.”

  “Exactly. So, Masie, there are going to be some big changes, but nothing will change how much I love you, or how I pick you up from school and do fun things with you. You’ll always be my number one girl. You know that, right?”

  “Uh-huh,” she says suspiciously.

  “We’ll still watch movies together and go out for pizza like this, OK?”

  “Come on, Daddy, spit it out!”

  “Masie, Lily’s going to be living with us.”

  “She’s going to live in our apartment? With us?”

  I nod.

  “But why?”

  “Masie, Lily and I have gotten married.”

  A look of confusion and hurt spreads across her face like wildfire. “But why, Daddy? You married someone I don’t even know?”

  Shit. I know this is not the best thing for a little girl – to get news sprung like this on her out of nowhere. But I had no choice. Everything had to happen all at once.

  “Masie, I know this is very fast, and very confusing. But I promise you, Lily is a very nice young woman. Once you get to know her, I think you’ll start to like her, too.”

  “But you never even told me, Daddy! When is she moving in?”

  I sigh and mutter, “She’s there now.”

  She slinks down in her seat and crosses her arms over her chest. “It’s not fair, Daddy!”

  “I know, sweetie. I know this is very hard. I promise you this is the best thing for us right now. I need you to just trust me on that. Can you trust me?”

  Still pouting, she moves her head in a tiny, begrudging nod.

  The tension’s thick in the car as I drive us home. I keep trying to tell Masie things about Lily that she may like, but I just get the silent treatment.

  And entering the penthouse, I brace myself for the worst: a tantrum when she meets Lily, perhaps. I only hope it won’t scare Lily off.

  Lily’s standing in the foyer when we walk in the door. I can see the anxiety and eagerness to please written across her face.