Cop's Fake Fiancée_An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

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Cop's Fake Fiancée_An Older Man Younger Woman Romance Page 7

by Flora Ferrari


  I know we could be cash poor in a cardboard box, but we’d still be rich in terms of life and our relationship. We could have fun under just about any circumstances after what we’ve been through.

  “Sir, it says here that the policy isn’t going to pay, but there’s a note at the bottom to talk to a supervisor.”

  “Okay. That doesn’t sound good,” I say.

  “Let me get a supervisor and see if we can get this all sorted out.”

  The young woman leaves her desk and scurries off somewhere down a hall where I can’t see.

  This is not good at all. I’m a pretty levelheaded calm guy, but it could be time to start worrying soon. I need to be prepared so when I go back upstairs and see May I can just act like everything’s okay. No way am I going to let her know if we have some sort of payment problem. What I will do is get to work immediately on solving it without bothering her about it. There’s no point in that anyways. She needs to rest and get better. The last thing she needs is more stress.

  Suddenly the girl appears from around the corner down the hallway walking back in my direction. Behind her is another woman who on first glance appears to be her boss or some sort of manager. They’re bringing out the big guns to deliver this bad news it appears.

  “Hello, sir.”

  “Hello,” I say extending my hand to meet hers.

  “I’m Mallory Davidson.”

  “Steven Shield.”

  “Mr. Shield, we have good news. Your account with us is all settled.”

  “All settled?”

  “That’s right. All treatments you, or in this case your fiancée I believe it is, has had or will have in the future.”

  “Future treatments too? I’m not about to argue with that, but are you sure everything’s okay?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “But I thought my policy declined the payment.”

  “They did, because your bill was already cleared.”

  “Come again?” I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, but I don’t want to fly all the way back across the country to L.A. to find out there was an administrative mistake and I do in fact owe a boatload of money to the hospital.

  “It’s the least we could do after your very generous gift,” Mallory says.

  “My gift?”

  “The donation, sir. We were told it originated under your name.”

  “Originated…under…my…” Then it hits me. Mrs. Douglas. She made the donation. “Right,” I say. “I’m sorry for forgetting and my apologizes. I wasn’t trying to draw attention to myself.”

  “No worries at all, Mister Shield. And it’s an honor to finally meet you. Your gift has really enabled us to help a lot of people,” she says.

  “Thank you,” I say. “It was a friend of mine’s generosity, but the thing that makes me the happiest is that it’s helping others.”

  “That’s what makes me happiest too.”

  I smile and feel a warmth overcome me, quickly accompanied by goose bumps from head to toe. Mrs. Douglas you little devil. Or should I say my guardian angel?

  “Anything else I can help you with?” Mallory asks.

  “Not that I can think of. Thank you for your time. And sorry to disturb you.”

  “Not at all. I wish you a pleasant stay in New York.”

  “It’s been excellent. Thank you,” I say.

  I turn and almost bump into May.

  “Hey! What are you doing here?”

  “We finished up early. That’s what happens when they find zerooooo cancer in your body.”

  “That’s great!” I say, wrapping her up in a big hug.

  “How’s everything down here?”

  “Too good to be true.”

  “You were…paying the bill?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Did everything go as planned?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Oh no!”

  “Not exactly because it went even better than I hoped.”

  “So everything is taken care of?”

  “Everything is taken care of.”

  “Nothing out of pocket?”

  “Come on, you can’t ask me questions like that.”

  “I just don’t want to feel like I—“

  I raise my finger to her lips silencing her.

  “Not one red cent.” I say.

  She smiles and my finger is quickly replaced on her lips by mine.

  EXTENDED EPILOGUE

  Steven

  Three years later

  “Annnnd…that’s a wrap!” the director says.

  I look at my watch. Perfect. I’ll be home in time to join my girls for dinner. That’s the best part about this job. The chance to be home for dinner every night to be with my family.

  But it’s not actually a job. It’s my own company and luckily business is booming.

  I made the natural leap from police work to security guard, but I specifically targeted Hollywood. It works out perfectly because after nineteen years, eleven months and three weeks as a cop I’m not really starstruck by anyone. It’s hard to rattle or impress me which transitions perfectly to Hollywood. No matter how big the name is we provide our services for it’s still just another human who puts on their pants one leg at a time. I just stand off to the side and watch the actors and crew do their work. It’s interesting to see how it all works and so far there are never any problems on set so I’m basically getting paid to watch movies being made. Not a bad gig at all.

  I shake hands with the crew I’ve gotten to know over the past three months during the course of filming and prepare to take off for home. My contract with this particular celebrity ends upon completion of this movie so I’m officially a free man until I select the next one from the pile that’s constantly growing on my desk.

  “Hey Steven! Sorry. Do you have a second?”

  I turn around looking over my shoulder recognizing the voice. “Trent. How’s it going?”

  “Good man,” Trent Cruze replies. He’s the A-list of the A-list celebrities even though he’s in the second half of his career. It will be interesting to hear if he’s looking for someone to keep an eye out for him.

  “Hey, I wanted to ask you. Are you Steven Shield formerly of the L.A.P.D.”

  “That’s me,” I say.

  “The guy who took down that guy outside a jewelry store a few years ago.”

  “Guilty,” I say.

  “Man, I’ve been trying like heck to track you down and I just find out today you’ve been right under my nose this entire time.”

  “Crazy, huh? What can I do for you?”

  I love what I do, but I love my family more than anything. And I don’t care how big the name is, I don’t miss dinner with my girls for anything.

  “Not sure if you know but in addition to acting I own my own production company. I was just thinking the other day. It’s been five years since the film Sully came out and a dozen years since the actual incident.”

  “That long?”

  “That long, and twenty years since 9/11.”

  “Wow,” I say thinking back to the tragic event.

  “But as history, and of course storytelling, shows us we often see heroes rise up out of nowhere in the face of great adversity.”

  “That’s true.”

  “And our studio is interested in putting together a feel good movie about a modest American hero. Like Sully or the many brave women and men who helped in numerous ways during and after 9/11.”

  “That sounds like a great idea. I’d go see that film,” I say.

  “I don’t want you to just go see it. I want you to be it.”

  “Be the film?”

  “Be the star of the story.”

  “Thanks,” I say, laughing off the idea, but I have no acting ability whatsoever and I’m no hero. In the back of my mind I do happen to have a quick flashback to our fake fiancée arrangement though. I guess I acted once in my life and apparently it was so convincing it became a true story.
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  Trent slaps his hands together and points at me and flashes that million-dollar smile. “That’s the beauty of it right there. I act out your story.”

  “My story? I’m not sure my story is that exciting?”

  “Oh believe me. It’s exciting and the best part is that it’s going to make people feel great. It’s going to make people think about others first. It’s literally going to bring people together.”

  “A movie about me? You sure you got the right guy?”

  “Exactly what I’m talking about!” he says, slapping his hand together again and pointing at me. I just look around to see if there’s a couch he’s going to be jumping on anytime soon. “A modest, guy-next-door, everyday kind of hero.”

  “I don’t know, Trent. I don’t want to bankrupt your studio on the biggest flop in movie history.”

  “Just think about it, will ya?”

  “Yeah sure.”

  “Great. I’ll send a courier over tonight with a script for you to look through.”

  “A script? Already?”

  “Just a working script. I’m telling you…we’re looking at a blockbuster here.”

  Trent slaps his hands together and points at me one last time for good measure, before moving quickly out the back door and into the lot where I know he’ll hop on his motorcycle and be speeding out the gate in seconds.

  I have to admit I do like the guy’s movies and he may not be a spring chicken these days, but then again neither am I. And he sure can put together an action movie. And let’s be honest. The best part will be bragging for the rest of time to my daughters that their dad was played by Trent Cruze in a movie.

  Just the thought of it makes me laugh out loud.

  I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pull it out and look at the number.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be off the lot and on the way home in less than ten minutes.”

  “Hey there. Not worried at all. Just wanted to tell you that someone from Trent Cruze’s studio dropped off a big packet for you. I had to sign for it and everything.”

  “Wow. That was fast.”

  “What was fast?”

  “Can I tell you at dinner?”

  “Is everything okay, Steven?”

  “As long as we have each other everything is always absolutely perfect.”

  “I know, but you’d tell me if something’s wrong wouldn’t you?”

  “I might, but believe me there is absolutely nothing wrong at all. I’ll tell you over…”

  “Lasagna.”

  “You made lasagna tonight? I’m definitely going to get a speeding ticket now.”

  “Be safe. See you in a few.”

  “Love ya.”

  “Love you too,” she says followed by a kiss sound.

  I slide the phone back in my pocket and my mind starts to wander immediately. I don’t want to get carried away with this idea that’s suddenly been put in my head. It’s not even five minutes old and I’m already thinking about how incredible this could be. If this is real this is the kind of money that could possibly put our daughters through college. I may not enjoy the spotlight myself, but when it comes to my family I’ll do anything. Plus I think it would be fun for them.

  But first I need to chill out which isn’t difficult with my woman’s lasagna on my mind.

  EXTENDED EPILOGUE

  May

  “What does it say?” I ask.

  “You’re not going to believe this.”

  “Believe what?”

  “There’s a signed check in here for half a million dollars just for the rights to make a movie about…my life I guess.”

  “You’re joking me?”

  “That’s just to make it. There are all kinds of additional payments and royalties if the movie does well. It looks like it maxes out well into the seven…no, just into the eight figures.”

  “What? I mean that’s incredible.”

  “You’re telling me. But…”

  “But what?”

  “I wonder if they want the entire story.”

  “I get to be in there too!” I joke.

  “Of course you will be, but what about our privacy? Our kids privacy?”

  “Those are great questions.”

  “Look. I have an idea. Let’s have dessert after this amazing lasagna you made and we can sleep on it. It says we have a week to make up our minds.”

  “Oh, that’s good.”

  “And you know what else?”

  “What’s that?”

  “It gives me time to run the numbers and see just how many kids that kind of money can put through college.” he says.

  “How many…wait a second!”

  Steven jumps up from his seat at the table and run around to mine before I have a chance to move, hugging me from behind.

  “Tara and Vanessa are going to get a brother sooner than they expected.”

  “Sooner than they expected? What about me?”

  “What about you? I thought we were going for lucky seven,” he says.

  “What happened to lucky three?”

  “Three’s so small. Seven’s much, much better.”

  “Says the man who doesn’t have to be in labor for hours on end.”

  “I’m there with you supporting you.”

  “Well if this movie makes seven million dollars then I’m pretty sure we can have seven kids.”

  “Those numbers should support fourteen.”

  “Oh my, no.”

  “Just kidding, babe. Kind of. Want whipped cream on your chocolate cake?”

  “Yes, please…but save some for later.”

  “Coffee in the morning?”

  “No silly. Later tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “It could come in handy if we want to get started on making our first son.”

  “Oh yeah! Now we’re talking,” he says as he prepares dessert in the kitchen.

  “It’s kind of crazy isn’t it?” I ask.

  “What’s that?”

  “How money has factored into our lives.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “I mean at first I needed money to stay alive. Literally. And then you gave up your pension only to find out that we might not have my bills paid for only to find out a few minutes later that Mrs. Douglas made that donation in your name.”

  “And then I started a bodyguard business, basically starting over again hustling and I absolutely loved the excitement of it but we were getting low on funds there for a minute, only to now be staring at a possibly big payday.”

  “But none of it ever really mattered did it?”

  “Not really. Because we always had each other.”

  “And we always will.”

  “Ab-so-lutely,” he says, placing my bowl in front of me on the table and kissing me on the cheek. “And just think of all the things we failed at, but still won.”

  “Huh?”

  “We failed at being fake fiancé and fiancée, so we decided to be the real thing,” he says winking at me.

  “And we failed at giving up your pension in order to pay for my bills, but they still got paid. And thank you again for that.”

  “Please. No need for that, really. Are you kidding me? Without you what’s the point of my life? I’d still be solving crimes down at my desk at the old station until ten or eleven at night until one day I had a heart attack and died never having had a family and never having built this amazing life we have together.”

  “We sure have, haven’t we?”

  “With a little help from Tara and Vanessa,” he says as he taps each of them on the nose with his index finger and offers up his spoon to me with his left hand for a toast. We clink spoons and dig in.

 

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