by Liz Ireland
“Is that who they are? And I sure as hell did not—”
“Now, sweetheart, don’t be so modest. You and Lyle went to the airport to get them. That’s where you’ve been all afternoon, isn’t it?”
“No. I’ve been golfing. What is going on around here?”
“Now, honey, let’s get Mom and Dad settled in first and then we can all talk. Which bedroom should we put them in? Or maybe the guest house?”
“Might I suggest—’
Her mother flinched. “Who said that?”
“That’s JOCK, Mother. He’s an electronic butler. Sort of an artificial intelligence thing that Brad developed. Isn’t my husband just the smartest man you ever—’
“Your husband? You’re not married.”
“Oh, Brad, you are so funny. Now, let me answer JOCK. Yes, JOCK, what were you going to say?”
“I was going to suggest the Key West room, Mrs. Hale—’
“There’s no—’
“Not now, Brad. It was only funny once, sweetheart. Isn’t he a hoot, Mom, Dad? Oh, you two just look so wonderful. It’s so good to see you. Did you bring the kids?”
“No, they’re at home. Your aunt Wanda is staying with them. School’s in session, you know. Now where’s this JOCK fella?”
“He’s not anywhere, Dad. He’s just sort of everywhere the intercom system is. Aren’t you, JOCK?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hale.”
“All right, dammit, for the last time—’
“Perhaps, Mr. Hale,” JOCK cut in, “you’d like to speak with Mrs. Hale in private? I’d be happy, with Lyle’s assistance, to show Mr. and Mrs. Greene to the Key West room. Lyle?”
“JOCK, have you lost your mind?”
“Why, no, Lyle, I haven’t. Have you lost yours? Perhaps been playing with your home lobotomy kit again, hmmm?”
“Why, you rotten little son of a—’
“All right, that’s it.” Brad had heard enough. He took Jayde by her arm, smiled at her—in a deadly sort of way—and said, “Might I see you in private, as JOCK suggested? I mean, you are Mrs. Hale, right?”
“Well, of—of course I am, sweetheart,” she stammered. “But I hate to be rude and—’
“Oh, I’m sure that between Lyle and JOCK, we can get your parents settled in, don’t you think?” Brad’s teeth were clenched making himself and his mood easily understood.
Jayde slumped in his grip, staring up at him with wide eyes. “You’re absolutely right.” She then addressed Lyle. “Do you mind?”
Brad watched Lyle send her an offhand salute. “Not at all…uh, Mrs. Hale. Anything you say.” He stared at Brad and shrugged his shoulders, as if to say he had no idea what was going on, either. Then he faced the older couple, who’d passed the last few moments staring at their surroundings. “Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Greene…to the Key West room.”
“You’re a big fella, aren’t you?” Jayde’s father said, as he and his wife trailed after Lyle.
When they rounded the corner, which led past the main stairway to the suite of guest rooms beyond, Brad turned his attention to the paint-smeared woman in his grip.
She grinned up, somewhat sickly, at him. “I can explain.”
“Somehow I knew that.”
“Well, long story short, those are my parents and they think we’re married.”
Brad let go of her arm. His belated concern was that whatever virus had invaded her brain might be contagious through direct contact. “Jayde, nothing you just said explains anything. Try again. But start with why you and JOCK are calling you Mrs. Hale.”
Jayde knotted her fingers together. “So is Lyle.”
Well, he couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, I heard that. Now, back to square one. You think you’re Mrs. Hale because…?”
“Because my parents do,” she blurted.
“I see.” But he didn’t. He crossed his arms. “Okay, why do they think that?”
“Because that’s what I told them.”
Brad nodded. “All right. And you told them that because…?”
“Because my father was laid off from his job.”
Frowning, Brad stared at her. “Well, as sorry as I am to hear that, what does that have to do with your being my wife? Allegedly, anyway. See, I’m not catching the sequential logic here, Jayde. You have to help me out.”
“Well,” she said, tucking a wavy strand of her hair behind her ear, “you’re going to laugh.”
“Am I?”
“Sure. But I have to say that all of this could have been avoided if you’d only gone on to England like you were supposed to.”
Brad tried to digest that but couldn’t. “So, this is all my fault?”
She nodded. “In a way. Because if you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have to tell you or them that the truth I’d originally told them was actually a lie. But you didn’t go, so now I have to tell them the real truth and really hurt them. See?” She stared at him…waiting for what, Brad had no idea. “And don’t even get me started on the money because that’s a real mess,” she blurted.
Brad’s head began to hurt. He rubbed at his forehead. “Does our government know about you? Specifically the branch that traffics in psychological warfare? You’d be quite the weapon.”
She smacked at his arm. “Don’t be silly, Brad. This is serious. What are we going to do?” She was gnawing on a thumbnail as she stared at him.
His eyebrows rose, along with his increasing confusion. “We? You want to know what we are going to do about all this?”
Not letting go of that thumbnail, really chewing on it now, she nodded her head vigorously.
It just killed Brad how damned adorable she managed to look doing that, too. Just chalk it up to everything else about her that had him ready to dance like a puppet on strings she pulled. Still, he maintained his sober expression. “I don’t have any idea, Jayde. I still don’t know what the hell is going on.”
Finally, she released her nail and took a deep breath. “Okay, here’s the thing. My dad got laid off a while back. They didn’t tell me. Now they’re about to lose the house. So, they need money. They’re proud and won’t accept help easily. I was here, had money—okay, not really my money but household money, which of course I’ll pay back when you pay me, if you pay me now at all—and I wanted to help them. The only way I could get them to take anything from me was to tell them I’d run off and married you, a rich man. And since I was now a successful artist with a gallery show coming up and we had money to burn, I wanted them to have some. And then I got a little crazy and put a note in with the money order telling them to come visit. But I swear to you that I never really thought they’d come.”
Brad could only stare at her—in horrible fascination, the way people do at a car wreck—it’s horrible, but you can’t look away.
“The good news is,” Jayde continued, “they didn’t bring my five sisters and brothers with them.” Her sudden smile could only be called hopeful…that he’d see that as a blessing. “Anyway, my folks won’t stay long. They have to get home to the kids. And Aunt Wanda. She’s really a sweet old soul, but she doesn’t do well off her medicine, which she won’t take when she’s around other people because it makes her bloat. And you know what that means.”
Brad didn’t say anything. Because, no, he didn’t know what that meant. Nor did he want to.
Suddenly, Jayde slumped. “Okay, look, I don’t blame you. I’ll get them to leave, and I’ll go with them. I’m sorry. I never should have taken advantage like this. And that’s exactly what I did. You’re such a very kind man and have been nothing but nice. And what did I do? I lied to everyone, including Nelson who thinks it’s your birthday. I am so sorry, Mr. Hale. I wouldn’t blame you if you—”
“Wait a minute. Who’s Nelson?” It was all Brad could think to ask.
“Oh. He’s the security guy at the gatehouse. He’s been on vacation for the past week. This is his first day back, poor guy. And then he steps into all this.”
Brad wen
t right back to staring blankly. He had owned this house in Queen’s Harbor for three years but couldn’t have said who anybody who worked on the grounds was. But Jayde already knew. What did that say about her? And, more specifically, him?
“Mr. Hale? Are you okay? Can I get you some water? Do you need to sit down?”
Brad blinked, finally focusing on Jayde. In one blinding second, he realized the bald truth about himself—and he didn’t like it. But he did like everything about Jayde, including her cockamamie explanations. He even suspected she might be the one person in all the world who could save him from himself—and from becoming just like his father. Cold. Distant. Uncaring. He knew as well, on that same gut level, that he had to do everything he could to keep her from getting away from him. Whatever it took.
So, not really understanding everything that he felt—or even a tenth of what was going on around him in his own home—Brad shook his head. “I’m all right. What I do need, Jayde, is to tell you that whatever the hell is going on here…well, I’ll go along with you. Because I can’t wait to see what happens next.”
Jayde sent him a sidelong glance and her voice reflected her uneasiness. “All right. But where are we going, exactly?”
In that instant, Brad made another decision. “To my bedroom. Come with me. There’s something you really need and only I can give it to you.”
Jayde pulled back, offended. “Mr. Hale! I hardly think—’
“That’s Brad, to you, Mrs. Hale,” Brad clutched at her wrist and began tugging her along behind him.
8
A RING. A big, fat, stunning diamond engagement ring. At least eight hundred carats. And a platinum wedding band. Hello. That’s what he’d meant. And here she’d thought…
What she now thought was that she’d need a wheelbarrow to cart the rings around in. His mother’s wedding set, he’d said as he’d moved aside a strip of carpet to reveal and then open a small safe bolted to the floor of his walk-in closet. That alone had stunned her. She had no idea such contraptions existed. Probably because she’d never owned anything worth hiding. But, as she’d watched, he’d pulled out this small black-velvet ring box and opened it. Finally, he had handed her the rings now adorning her left ring finger. All he’d said was, “Here. You’ll need to wear this if we’re going to pull this off.”
As he’d closed up the safe, she’d slipped the rings on her finger and tried not to be dazzled by the precious gem’s brilliance. “Wow. I can’t believe it fits. Just like it was made for me.” She looked up at Brad and was surprised to see he watched her with an odd expression on his face. Jayde stilled. “Are you sure you want me to wear these? I mean, they are your mother’s. I can tell my parents we just haven’t—”
“No. I want you to have them. I mean, wear them. For now.”
Jayde nodded, not knowing where to look. There was the oddest sort of feeling growing between them, she realized. An uncomfortable familiarity, if such a thing could be said to exist. It felt warm and withdrawn at the same time. She wondered if he felt it, too. “Okay,” she said finally. “What about you? Should you have a ring?”
He just looked at her as if he’d been stunned by something he couldn’t name.
What was he thinking? She had no idea. So she remained quiet, standing there with him in—of all places—his clothes closet. It was like an intimate cocoon, surrounded by everything that was his. To Jayde, the garments smelled invitingly of starched cleanliness and that citrusy aftershave he seemed to prefer.
Finally he answered. “I can’t wear a wedding ring. My father never wore one.”
“Oh. I’ve never known a married man who didn’t wear a wedding band. But that’s fine.” But it wasn’t. It didn’t set right with her. Before she even knew she was going to do it, she embarrassed herself by blurting, “I believe I’d want my husband to wear one.”
Brad ran a hand through his hair and stared at her. “Look, Jayde, I don’t have a philosophical objection to wearing a wedding band. All I’m saying is I don’t have a wedding band here to wear because my father never wore one. If I had his band here, I’d put it on.”
“I see.” She felt a little better. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hale.”
He chuckled. “You might want to remember to call me Brad, since we are married.”
She made a face. “Yikes. That’s right. Brad, Brad, Brad,” she drilled herself. “Look,” she said, “you’re really nice to help me out like this. And in my book, that makes you pretty special. But it’s also what’s got me wondering…why are you doing this? You don’t even know me. Or my family. You’d be perfectly justified in kicking us all out.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But I have my reasons.”
“Well, they must be good ones. Most guys would run at the idea of being married.”
“Hey, I’m no different. But it’s not as if it’s real. And it’s only for a few days. I’m fully aware that you’re my employee and I’m your employer. Nothing more than that, right?”
“Right. Of course,” she agreed quickly. She had to show him that she was just as ready to blow off their marriage as he was. But still, she felt insulted somehow…as if he’d slighted her. Would it be so awful to be married to her? “Wouldn’t want people to think you’d married the help. We couldn’t let that get out.”
Brad looked at her—as if she’d just insulted him. Well, okay, she pretty much had. At the very least she’d accused him of being a snob. “Look, Jayde,” he said, touching her face with his fingers, “this is your idea. Not mine. But judging from your expression, you’re not any happier about it than I am.”
Jayde forced herself to smile. “Is this better?” she asked through gritted teeth.
“No. Not really.”
A sudden, unexpected sense of helplessness ate at Jayde and left her feeling hollow. This wasn’t fun anymore. It was turning serious, dredging up emotions best left untouched—marriage was just too sacred to play with. What in the world had made her lie like she had? And how in the world could she get out of it now?
Well, that was easy enough. She could tell the truth to her parents and take her lumps. But just the thought of how embarrassed they’d be made Jayde feel like…mud. Great. My name is mud. But she couldn’t allow anyone else beside herself to be dirtied. So, that decided it for her.
“All right, Brad, look. This whole affair stinks.” She began taking off his mother’s wedding set. “Here. Take these back. This is sick somehow. It makes a joke of everything your parents felt for each other and I don’t—”
“Stop.” He covered her hands with his. “What are you doing?”
His touch was warm and firm, holding her very much in place. But somehow, their intimate pose made a mockery of the tender moment a newlywed couple would share after taking vows. She swallowed past the growing lump of emotion in her throat. “I’m going downstairs to tell my parents the truth. I can’t do this to you, to them or even to myself. I’m just awful.”
“You are not. Now listen to me, Jayde. You can’t tell them the truth.”
“Why not? If I don’t, then we’ll have to keep lying. And it will just get worse.”
“I know that. But if you tell them now, you’ll make us all look like liars. And we deserve better than that. So do your parents. Think how they’d feel.”
“I have.” Feeling very lost, Jayde pulled her hands from his and rubbed at her forehead. “Oh, Brad, I can’t believe I lied to them.”
He gripped her arms, forcing her to stare into his eyes. “Yes, you did. So are you going to compound that by being a quitter, too?”
Remorse and guilt instantly morphed into anger. “I am not now and nor have I ever been a quitter.”
Brad’s grip tightened into a squeeze of encouragement. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. So we’ll stick to your original story and tough it out. Then later on, when they’re home, you can tell them that we…well, we…we’ll tell them…”
Jayde took it from there. “Tell them another lie? That maybe our mar
riage of a few weeks just didn’t work out? That we gave it a try but now we’re getting a divorce? Great. I’ll be a divorced liar and a loser who can’t even keep a job. And I probably stink as an artist, too.”
Brad let go of her. “Well, that’s kind of harsh, don’t you think?”
Jayde crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”
“Not the way I see it, Jayde. For one thing, I’ve told you I love your paintings. And for another, you haven’t lost your job. And finally, you can’t get a divorce if you’re not married.”
Jayde sniffed. “I guess you’re right. But I still don’t understand why you’re so anxious to go along with all this. It doesn’t seem like something you’d do.”
Brad shrugged. “So maybe that’s why I’m doing it. Because it is something I wouldn’t normally do. Maybe I need this, too, Jayde.”
She stared at him, feeling somehow connected to him in a way she hadn’t been a few moments ago. Right then, her wayward feminine nature chose that moment to bring to her heightened attention Brad’s gorgeous masculine physique. He overwhelmed his surroundings as if he owned the world. Actually, he probably did. About half of it, anyway. Still, his physical effect, coupled with his unexpected kindness, warmed Jayde and caused her pulse to become erratic. He really was a special man. “Okay. I’m going to do this.”
His eyebrows arched with his happy—or maybe relieved—expression. “Good for you. And for us.” Then he grinned like a pirate, showing his mouthful of straight, white teeth. “So, what do we do now…honey?”
Jayde’s stomach fluttered. She had a darned good idea—one that involved him, her and his bed, but she didn’t dare suggest it, especially with her parents downstairs. Even now, her mother was somewhere in this huge house—and was no doubt wondering where her daughter was. “Uh, I guess we should go downstairs, so you can get acquainted with my folks.”
