by Elias Taylor
“I don’t have an option,” she said. “But it’s just one night, and afterward you have to delete that video, and I will watch to make sure you do.”
“Of course,” Tristen said.
Kayla buried her face in her hands. Would this night ever end?
“It really won’t be that bad,” Tristen said. “Nothing painful, and I’ll pay for everything. Honestly, you’re getting a free meal out of this.”
“I can buy my own meals,” Kayla muttered.
“I guess so,” Tristen said.
What did he expect? Did he really think she was going to be excited about play-acting as his fake fiancée at a company event of all things.
What had possessed him to even tell such a bold lie?
Kayla sighed. She could almost understand the determination to do whatever it took to get that promotion.
She of all people knew how important it was to work any angle and make connections with your boss and go above and beyond the standard if you wanted to move up while young.
She looked at Tristen’s relieved face and felt a shred of sympathy. Her first year at her accounting company, Kayla had pretended to be super into yoga just to bond with one of the managers. She had gone to weekly classes and talked about meditation and other zen practices that Kayla had no interest in whatsoever. Kayla hadn’t thought twice about it. If the manager wanted to talk yoga, Kayla would talk yoga all day long until she moved up the ladder.
Tristen had just saved her career. She supposed she could help him with his career.
Then again, Kayla had just faked enthusiasm for an exercise form, she hadn’t made up an entire life partner.
Tristen was rubbing his hands together and plotting the next evening.
“Well, the dinner is at 7, but it’s in San Diego,” Tristen said. “So I’ll pick you up at 6?”
“Ok,” Kayla said.
She smiled wryly to herself. If anyone had entered the conversation at this point, it would almost sound like a real date. Not that she wanted a real date. A real date would be nothing but a distraction. This was going to be pure business.
“And it’s a work thing, so dress nice, but nothing inappropriate,” Tristen said.
“Tristen, I know how to be professional,” Kayla snapped.
“Right, of course,” Tristen said.
She sighed. Her head was starting to pound, and her stomach still felt uneasy, even after all the water.
“I need to go home,” Kayla said.
“Sure, my bike is just over in the parking lot,” Tristen said.
Kayla froze.
“You don’t have to take me home,” Kayla said.
“Are you kidding me?” Tristen said. “I can’t lose my fake fiancée because she gets herself in a drunk driving accident.”
“Don’t joke about this,” Kayla said. “And I wasn’t going to drive, I can just call a cab or something.”
“It’s no big deal,” Tristen said. “I’m leaving anyway.”
Kayla had to admit that finding a cab or getting a ride with someone else would be a hassle. And she was so tired and ready for bed.
“Alright,” Kayla said.
They started to walk towards the parking lot, but Kayla shivered as they moved away from the fire.
“My jacket,” Kayla said.
She frowned as she looked over at the dancing crowd. She had no interest in walking back into that.
“Hang tight, I’ll get it,” Tristen said.
Kayla stood still as he disappeared. He was being quite nice to her. Especially with the water. Kayla was feeling much more sober.
In a matter of moments, Tristen was back clutching her leather jacket.
“It’s a little dusty,” Tristen said. “It was, uh, kinda on the ground.”
Kayla cringed as she recalled whipping it off and hurling it in the dirt with such drama. Her drunk alter-ego was horrible.
“No big deal,” Kayla said.
She wrapped the jacket around her shoulders and hopped onto the bike.
Kayla had grown up riding bikes, so she wasn’t uncomfortable riding across town with her arms wrapped around Tristen’s waist. If anything, it was nice to just not talk to anyone. It was just the two of them and the roar of the engine. Kayla let the lights blur by and rested her head on Tristen’s shoulder. She wanted to drown the memories of the entire night in a deep and dreamless slumber.
When they got to her apartment building, Tristen hopped off the bike first so he could help Kayla off. He probably thought she was still about to keel over. God, she had been such a mess.
“Ok,” Tristen said. “Six tomorrow.”
He stood in an awkward stance on her sidewalk as if he couldn’t quite decide how he should treat his new fake lover.
“Right,” Kayla said.
“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Tristen said. “We can figure out the details and backstories and stuff.”
Kayla stifled a groan at “backstories.” Despite Tristen’s assurance that it wouldn’t be painful, Kayla knew the charade was not going to be easy. If they weren’t caught before the main course, she would be shocked. But she only said she would do it, not that she would be good at it.
“So can I have your number?” Tristen asked.
“Sure,” Kayla said.
She entered her number into his phone as quick as she could. Then she turned and headed to her building.
As soon as she got to her sparkling clean apartment, Kayla deflated. The night had been a disaster from start to finish. That’s what she got for socializing. From here on out, it was a social event every other month. And no more alcohol.
Kayla tore her clothes off and pulled on some sweatpants. Even though she was exhausted, her mind refused to settle down.
She called Cleo. Her friend would still be awake, and Kayla needed to process the events of the evening.
“Girl, you’re still awake?” Cleo asked. “Is this an emergency or something?”
“Almost,” Kayla said. “I got drunk at the biker party.”
Cleo shrieked with excitement on the phone.
“Good for you!” Cleo said. “You deserve to let loose now and then.”
“No, not good for me,” Kayla said.
She told Cleo the whole pitiful story. Cleo laughed over the drunk dancing on the table but agreed Tim had been a dick about the video.
“You really think it could have ruined your career though?” Cleo asked.
“I’m not willing to underestimate anything that gets put on the internet,” Kayla said.
“Fair enough,” Cleo said.
When Kayla told how the situation had been resolved, with Tristen deleting the video as long as she agreed to be his fake fiancée, even Cleo was at a loss for words.
“Ok, I admit, that is a plot twist,” Cleo said.
“It’s insane,” Kayla said. “And it won’t work.”
“I don’t know, maybe you’re selling yourself short,” Cleo said. “You are a catch and so totally the type to impress the boss.”
“That’s not the point, I barely know Tristen,” Kayla said. “I can’t convince an entire office that I’m engaged to him!”
“You know he’s hot,” Cleo said.
“Cleo!” Kayla said.
“What?” Cleo said. “It’s true.”
Kayla chewed on her lower lip. Some of the alcohol was still releasing her inhibitions because she found herself admitting to Cleo that she agreed.
“It may be true,” Kayla said. “But that only makes it more difficult.”
“Or more fun,” Cleo said.
“He clearly thinks I’m only good for faking an engagement, nothing else,” Kayla said.
“Or he thinks you’re really cool and pretty, and that’s why he wanted to ask you,” Cleo said. “You could look at it from that angle.”
“I was the only girl he met who was desperate,” Kayla said. “And that’s the truth.”
After a few more jokes from Cleo, the friends said go
odnight. Kayla flopped onto her bed.
She looked back at night, and she tried to be as optimistic as Cleo. Her friend was right; Tristen was super good-looking. And he had been nice to her. Plus he was funny.
Maybe the dinner wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe.
As Kayla drifted off to sleep, she had a sneaking suspicion that she had just made a deal with the devil.
Chapter Eight: Show Time
Tristen adjusted the bowtie on his suit and wondered for the hundredth time why he had ever thought this was a good idea.
He had drafted out a detailed timeline for their made-up romance, but even so, this was going to be difficult to pull off. He had felt so inspired the night before. The extreme circumstances and the mayhem of the party had tricked him into thinking this was a feasible plan. the fact that Kayla had needed his help in that very moment (Kayla Carpenter, who was the ideal person to introduce to your boss) had seemed like a sign from fate.
Tristen inspected himself in his bathroom mirror. No backing out now.
His apartment was a mess. He had spent the whole afternoon tearing through all his dress clothes, trying to decide which ensemble would scream “Sophisticated and Mature Family Man” to his boss. One of the articles on advancing at work that Tristen had read emphasized that even though it seems shallow, one should never underestimate the power of dressing for success.
Of course, it wouldn’t matter what shirt Tristen was wearing when they found out he had fabricated an entire relationship and even blackmailed an innocent woman into participating in his scheme.
Throughout the afternoon, Tristen had imagined everything that could go wrong. He figured no one would recognize Kayla since his office was closer to San Diego than it was to Lyndon, but someone might question why Kayla seemed to know nothing about his job. Or Kayla could forget something basic, like the name of his boss or his co-workers. She might tell a different proposal story or her timeline might not match his. There were a million and one ways they could get caught, every single one humiliating.
The embarrassment wouldn’t be the worst of it though. Tristen would lose his job for sure. David would think that Tristen was crazy and deceitful, and David would never write Tristen a good reference letter after such a blatant infraction. Tristen would be jobless and without prospects.
“Ok, ok,” Tristen muttered to himself in the mirror. “Don’t panic.”
He had decided that the only way his plan had a shot in hell of succeeding was if he and Kayla stuck together the entire night. If they were separated, that meant they might tell different stories that didn’t add up. As long as they moved as a unit, that gave them a little more control over the information they provided his co-workers.
They also had to anticipate the questions they would be asked. They couldn’t give blank stares of confusion when someone asked them how they met or when he had proposed or if they had a wedding date. Real couples would know those things.
All-day, Tristen had been texting Kayla details about their fake relationship. She had only responded that she would be ready by 6, and she had offered no reaction to his fabrications. Tristen didn’t blame her for lacking enthusiasm, and he figured they could go over the details on the drive to the event in San Diego.
Tristen checked his watch and started to gather his wallet and keys. It was too late to erase his actions; he could only keep going forward on this course of action.
Why had he ever told that stupid lie to his boss?
It wasn’t just that he was desperate for that promotion. He was always speaking before thinking with his boss and managers. It was a nervous habit. Even in school, whenever Tristen was worried or nervous about something, he would blurt out whatever came to mind.
He couldn’t get nervous tonight. He had to stay calm and act like a mature adult who was fully in love with his fiancée.
Tristen cheered up as he headed out the door. At least he would get to hang out with Kayla for the evening.
She would probably glower at him all night, but even so, he was looking forward to seeing her.
He arrived at her apartment ten minutes early, but Kayla came right down as soon as he had texted. He had figured she was the type of girl who was early to everything.
Tristen jumped out of the car as soon as Kayla appeared outside her apartment. She looked absolutely gorgeous.
She was wearing a midnight blue cocktail dress that was both extremely flattering and totally appropriate for a work event. The sleeves were off-the-shoulder so they revealed Kayla’s collar-bone and a tiny bit of cleavage, but nothing scandalous. The dress hugged her curves and was fitted through the knee, but it was high-quality material and very sophisticated. She had pulled part of her hair up in a clip, but left the rest tumbling down her back in soft waves. She looked like a big-time CEO or a powerful lawyer, and Tristen was into it.
He opened the door for her and she stepped into the car with grace. Tristen admired her gleaming silver earrings the matched her heels. She was a class act from top to bottom.
“You look great,” Tristen said. “Totally perfect.”
“Well, every actress needs a good costume,” Kayla quipped.
Tristen frowned as he settled into the driver’s seat. He hadn’t meant she looked perfect for the part. He had meant she just looked perfect, full stop.
He supposed he deserved whatever sarcasm she doled out after he had manipulated her last night.
“So I wanted to go over the details,” Tristen said.
Kayla nodded. Tristen glanced over and saw she was pursing her lips. Even with the sour expression, she looked amazing. She had kept her makeup fairly simple except for the deep maroon lipstick.
“Alright, the best lies resemble the truth,” Tristen said. “So we can just say we met at the biking club, became friends, and then started dating about a year ago.”
“I would never get engaged after only a year,” Kayla said. “Studies show that infatuation mimics love and can last up to two years, so I would definitely wait until the infatuation phase was over before committing to a life partner.”
Tristen blinked. Kayla clearly had firm standards, even when it came to make-believe scenarios.
“Ok, we started dating two years ago, but we were friends before that because of the club,” Tristen said. “Better.”
Kayla gave the smallest of nods.
“Alright, our first date was a ride to the coast and a picnic lunch,” Tristen said.
“Ok, our entire story can’t revolve around bikes,” Kayla said. “It’s fine to ride as a hobby, but if you talk too much about motorbikes, your boss is gonna think you’re planning on quitting to take a cross-country ride with your brothers.”
Tristen laughed. Kayla had a point. There was a certain stigma that came with being even a casual biker.
“Who says that’s not my plan?” he asked.
“You obviously care about your job,” Kayla said. “You wouldn’t be going to these lengths to keep it if you were going to quit.”
Kayla furrowed her brow and looked over at him, almost as if she was puzzled by how much he cared about his work. Tristen shrugged it off. He was used to people still assuming he was the carefree guy who didn’t work hard. That’s what he had once been.
“What was our first date then?” Tristen asked.
He thought Kayla would squirm when put on the spot, but instead she answered right away.
“Dinner at that Mediterranean restaurant in Lyndon,” she said. “You had a lamb kebab, and I had falafel and rice.”
“Wait, are you a vegetarian?” Tristen asked.
“No, I just like falafel,” Kayla said.
“Ok, that could have been disastrous,” Tristen said. “Imagine if I offered my fiancée meat in front of my boss, and you had to decline it.”
“You need to calm down,” Kayla said. “If you walk in there acting this nervous, you’re going to mess up.”
Tristen nodded and tried to breathe. Kayla was right; he was overthinking e
verything.
“So I proposed just a month ago,” Tristen said. “I was thinking I asked you at a family dinner so your parents could be part of it.”
“Ugh, don’t make me throw up,” Kayla said. “This isn’t the 1800’s, a woman doesn’t need her parents’ approval to marry.”
“So you wouldn’t want to share that with your family?” Tristen asked.
“No, I would be very excited to tell them,” Kayla said. “But the actual proposal should be a private moment, I think. It’s more intimate that way.”
She thought for a second, and Tristen glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He found it adorable how serious she was taking this fake backstory.
“Ok, we took a weekend trip to Yosemite to go hiking,” Kayla said. “And we hiked up to the peak of Cloud’s Rest on our last afternoon, and it was really quiet and peaceful at the top, and you asked me there.”
“You like to hike?” Tristen asked.
“Yeah, I like the nice views,” Kayla said. “And I’ve been to Yosemite twice so I can fill in any details if anyone asks.”
Tristen grinned. Kayla was such a cool customer, and he was loving it. They might actually survive the night.
“And I was thinking about a February wedding,” Tristen said. “On Valentine’s Day.”
Kayla snorted.
“Is that too cheesy?” Tristen asked.
“No, I guess it could be cute, but my birthday is Valentine’s Day,” Kayla said.
Tristen chuckled. It was ironic that someone as serious and non-sappy was born on the sappiest day of the year.
“Let’s say May 16,” Kayla said. “I checked and it’s a Saturday, plus it’s a good six months away, so we won’t be expected to have every single detail of the wedding nailed down.”
Tristen nodded. He wanted the wedding to be sooner so his boss could count on him to be a married man by the time he was promoted, but he supposed he didn’t want to be asked about wedding reception hors d’oeuvres.
“And it’s going to be a small wedding, with just our family and super close friends,” Kayla said. “That way none of your co-workers will wonder why they’re not invited.”
