by Jiffy Kate
“Congratulations,” the judge says. “We’ll just need to step over here and sign the certificate.”
Right, we’re on a schedule.
Business.
“Of course,” I tell him, placing my hand at the small of CeCe’s back and leading her over to the wooden podium. Maverick and Carys are our witnesses. The judge lets us know when to expect the certified copy in the mail, which is important. It’s why we’re doing this. I’ll need to send it to my grandfather’s lawyer as soon as possible…and then the clock starts ticking.
“Come to Blue Bayou,” Carys says as we walk back out into the heat of New Orleans. “Avery and I put a little something together.”
“Carys,” Mavericks says, her name sounding like an admonishment.
“What kind of little something?” CeCe asks hesitantly.
Carys turns to Maverick, giving him the smile she always reserves just for him. It’s one of the first things I noticed about her—the way she looked at my best friend. I knew from day one that whatever Carys felt for Maverick was forever, even though they aren’t even engaged yet, I know they’re both in it for the long haul, without a deadline or an end date.
“Very little,” she assures CeCe while still looking at Maverick. “Promise.”
We all start to walk out to the curb when Carys adds, “I mean, you only get married for the first time once.”
Finally, the thin layer of tension that’s been hovering cracks and we all chuckle at her honest comment. It’s true. This will be the only first wedding CeCe and I will ever have, and the only one for me, so I might as well live it up.
“To Blue Bayou,” I say, placing my hand on the small of CeCe’s back once more, loving the way it feels and the fact that she’s allowing me to touch her like this. It feels intimate…familiar…which is what everyone should feel after pledging their life to another.
My wife.
When we all walk into the courtyard at the Blue Bayou, Carys was telling the truth about very little when it comes to the amount of people—there’s only the four of us, plus Avery and Shaw and Mary and George—but when it comes to everything else, she was a damn liar. There are even more hanging lights than normal and a table full of food and booze, courtesy of Shaw and his sister, Sarah, if I had to guess. Instead of a cake, there’s a platter of Carys’s famous macarons, and in the background, the sound of light jazz permeates the space.
It’s perfect.
For a couple of hours, I almost forget that this is all fake…pretend…a marriage with a deadline. I let myself smile and enjoy CeCe, stealing glances and a brush of my hand against hers. I don’t go in for a kiss again, even though I have been known to push my luck, I play nice, just enjoying the evening.
When everyone starts saying their goodbyes is when I’m brought back to reality.
“Uh, I guess I should go too,” CeCe says, brushing her hands down her dress…a dress I’ll remember for the rest of my life, even if we do go our separate ways. When I think back to this day and marrying CeCe, I’ll think about how she looked when she stepped out of the car at the courthouse.
If I’m being honest, she took my breath away.
“Yeah,” I reply, running a hand through my hair. “I should too.”
“Five o’clock comes early and I can’t expect Paige to fill in for me two days in a row.” CeCe laughs and it comes out nervous, like she’s unsure of herself…us…where we go from here.
“Yeah, I’ve got an early conference call in the morning,” I tell her, wanting to reach out and brush a strand of her dark hair out of her face, but I stuff my hands in my pockets instead.
“Right,” she adds, filling the awkward silence we suddenly find ourselves in. “So…”
What do I say here?
There’s no judge having me repeat after him, no manuscript or how to be fake married manual. “Well, uh…thanks for…”
Smooth, Shep.
Real fucking smooth.
Thanks for marrying me.
“I guess you can call me…if you…” CeCe says.
“Yeah, I’ll call you.”
What now? Are we going to fucking shake on it?
What I want to do is carry her back to my apartment and hide her away for a few days. I want a repeat of our weekend together, but I have a feeling that’s not going to happen. At least, not yet. But if I give her some space and show her I’m not going to push…maybe soon?
“Want me to walk you—”
“No,” she says, cutting me off. “I…I need a few minutes to… process.”
Right.
“Be safe,” I tell her, that nudging to protect her coming back.
“Of course.”
I stand in the center of the courtyard and watch her until she turns the corner, headed toward Neutral Grounds. This morning, she was just CeCe Calhoun, coffee shop owner and a one-weekend stand. This evening, she walks away my wife.
My wife.
Chapter 10
CeCe
I’m working by myself this morning, which is starting to feel weird. Which is weird. When I hired Paige, I honestly thought I’d hate it—having someone who constantly needed my instruction. I’m horrible at delegating and much more comfortable at doing everything myself.
It was actually Avery who helped me realize how nice it could be to have the help. She lived with me for a short time and instead of rent, paid me in hours working the shop.
Even a stubborn, independent, self-reliant person like myself can change.
But change is hard. Over the course of my life, I’ve been trained, through disappointment and letdowns, to believe that I’m the only person who can guarantee my happiness and security. I can’t depend on anyone else to do it for me, even my mama. Like everyone else, she’s only human. And even though she means well, she’s not the best at caring for others. It’s why I stepped in at such a young age. After my dad left, she was a mess and Rory was just a baby. Someone had to be the adult and that someone was me.
As I go through the course of the morning, serving my regulars and greeting newcomers to the shop and the city, my thoughts occasionally turn toward Shep and the fact that I am married.
To Shep.
Typically, when people get married, part of the appeal is having someone else to depend on.
But even with my newly hired help…and my new husband… I’m still flying solo.
Part of me thinks I always will.
It’s just who I am.
Which is why I agreed to this sham of a marriage.
“Have a good day,” I call out to a couple as they leave. Ironically, they came to New Orleans to elope. What a coincidence. I didn’t tell them that I’m also a newlywed. Actually, I haven’t mentioned it to anyone besides Avery and Carys. Since it’s temporary, I don’t see any reason to involve anyone I don’t have to, including my mother. Or Rory. They’re both busy living their own lives. Rory is home for the summer, and even though she will be back soon, she’ll be living on campus and going to class. She has a part-time job and a social life that keeps her busy.
Surely, I can keep this to myself for three hundred and sixty more days.
It’s been a week since we said I do, followed by the most awkward goodbye ever. I swear, I almost told him “thanks” or something equally embarrassing, which is why I had to get the heck out of Dodge before I made a complete idiot of myself in front of my new fake husband.
Well, I guess he’s really my husband.
My husband.
Yeah, I’ve been bouncing that one around in my head like an intense game of pinball.
After the kiss—yes, it will forever and ever be known as the kiss, because…damn. He literally swept me off my feet with that one kiss. I wasn’t expecting it. Internally, I braced myself for a quick peck and then he just leveled me with those delicious lips and his tight grip on my waist. I lost myself in that kiss…and later, I lost myself in the impromptu reception Avery and Carys threw for us. It wasn’t until Avery asked me what we
planned to do for the next twelve months that I remembered…we’re just pretending.
So, I quickly shut those errant feelings down and got back to business. It was time for everyone to leave anyway, and I quickly made my departure, turning Shep’s chivalrous offer down and walking myself home, using the few blocks to clear my head.
And stare at the new gold band on my left hand.
Married.
Wow.
My cell phone ringing draws me out of my inner thoughts and back to the real world.
Well, speak of the devil.
“Hello?” I answer, batting down the flock of birds taking flight in my stomach with the sight of Shep’s name on my caller ID. He did say he’d call. I just wasn’t sure how long he’d wait…
“CeCe,” he says, sounding all business and making my spine straighten.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. Who the heck really knows anymore?
“Listen, I need you to go to Dallas with me.” He continues talking without any pleasantries. “My mother is planning a reception for us this weekend. We’ll need to leave Saturday night. Will that work for you?”
What?
No, no, no.
I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to pretend in front of people who don’t know our arrangement. We’ve only been married five days.
I’m not ready.
“This…Saturday?” I ask, buying myself a few seconds to process his request.
“Yes, I have a flight booked for Saturday night, nine fifteen. It’s the latest flight out of New Orleans to Dallas. We’ll return on Monday morning. You can handle that, right?”
What?
“I’ll have a car pick you up at eight. No need to check luggage, just bring a carry-on. You can even shop for a dress on Sunday afternoon if you’d like. The reception will start at seven.”
When I still don’t say anything, he asks, “Did I lose you?”
“Uh, no…I’m here,” I reply, my mind reeling. “I’m here…I just…I’ve never left the shop for an entire day.” We do have fewer hours on Sunday and I guess Paige can handle the place for a day…maybe. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Great,” he says quickly. “Call if you have any issues with the plans.”
“Okay.”
“See you Saturday.”
I almost stop him and tell him I think we need a crash course in Shep and CeCe so we can effectively sell our romance, but before I can say another word, he’s gone. Hung up. On to the next item of business for the day.
Okay.
When the black sedan pulls up at the curb, right at eight o’clock, just like Shep said it would, my heart is in my throat. It’s basically been lodged there for the past few days, ever since his phone call. Not only do I have to meet the parents and sell a fake marriage, but I’m also being thrust into Shep’s world without a safety net.
I always have a safety net, but right now, I feel like I’m free falling.
On top of all of that, I’m leaving Neutral Grounds in the hands of Paige and seven-month-pregnant Avery, who is supposed to only be on back-up and used for emergencies. Shaw is adamant she not be on her feet right now, which I completely agree with. I don’t like it any more than he does, but she’s the only other person who knows my business.
My business.
That’s why I’m doing this. For the money. I have to keep telling myself that when I start feeling that fight or flight sensation take over. I can do this…I can fly to Dallas and meet Shep’s parents and play the part of the happy newlywed.
Stepping toward the car, I take a deep, fortifying breath and then immediately lose it when Shep slides out of the back. He’s wearing a navy-blue suit that’s tailored perfectly for his long, lean body. When he stands to his full height and adjusts his cuffs, I have to swallow down a moan that tries to escape.
Holy Jesus.
You know what’s real torture?
I know what’s under that suit.
From the moment he walked out of the hotel room we shared and didn’t give even a backward glance, let alone his phone number, I knew I’d regret that fact.
Knowing what he’s hiding under those clothes and not being able to do a damn thing about it…well, that’s enough to make any woman go insane.
My eyes are stuck on his blond hair as he rakes his fingers through it. It’s grown a little longer since he moved to New Orleans. I’m not sure if it’s the laid-back atmosphere or if he’s just due for a haircut. Regardless, I love it. And I want to run my hands through it.
That will be enough, Cecelia Louise.
This is business.
Get your shit together.
“Here,” he says, reaching for the strap of my bag. “Is this all you have?”
I look up at him just before I slip into the backseat of the car. “You said to pack light.”
Shep chuckles, shaking his head as he places my bag in the popped trunk.
“What’s so funny?” I ask when he slides in beside me.
The driver pulls away from the curb and for a second I think Shep’s going to ignore me when he pulls his phone out of his suit pocket and begins typing away. “Most women think packing lightly means an overpacked suitcase.”
“I’m not most women,” I declare, watching as the city passes us by.
“Don’t I know,” Shep mutters under his breath while his fingers are still flying across the screen.
I think about asking him who he’s talking to, but it’s none of my business.
Right?
That wasn’t part of the agreement. We didn’t negotiate personal details of each other’s life. Actually, now that we’re married, I’ve thought of several things we probably should’ve discussed before we made it official.
Protocol.
Family history.
What we tell people about us and our relationship.
“What do I need to know about your family?” I ask, tackling my biggest concern first. I know we have a two-hour flight, but I have a lot of things weighing on my mind.
Shep puts the phone back in the inner pocket of his suit jacket and lets out a deep sigh before he begins. “My father is Phillip. My mother is Jane. They’re your typical high-society people who have more money than they’ll ever be able to spend but still want more. Pretentious. Self-absorbed. They’re both only children and are a product of marrying for money…I come from a long line of modern day arranged marriages. So, technically, we fit right in.”
“Except, I don’t have money.” That’s where the comparison ends. I’m not like his mother and father who joined their mass fortunes. I’ve done a little research of my own and I know his mother is an heiress of a small hotel chain. When her father passed, she inherited an estimated three hundred million dollars. I can’t even wrap my head around the hundred million Shep is going to inherit, let alone three hundred million.
What do people do with that kind of money?
Shep’s throaty laugh pulls me out of my thoughts. God, that’s a sexy laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the onslaught of everything else that’s sexy about Shep.
“Nothing,” he says quietly, shaking his head as he turns to look out his window.
“Are they going to hate me?”
The car is quiet for a moment and my stomach drops a little. I know I’m nothing like Shep or his family. There’s no use for me to try to pretend. After a quick emergency help session with Avery and Carys, we decided that I should just be myself. Shep knew who he was marrying. He knows I’m not high-society. And one thing he’s never asked me to do is be anyone different.
“Probably.” His words are honest and I appreciate it, even if they do make me feel nauseous. “But they wouldn’t like anyone who’s not on their shortlist of people I should marry.”
“So, why not marry one of them?” It’s been on my mind since the morning I woke up and recalled my offer to him at Come Again the night before. Why doesn’t he ju
st pick one of his many suitors? Why me?
“Because that’s what they expect of me and I’m tired of falling in line,” he mutters, his words coming out so low I’m not sure if they were even meant for me to hear. “I’m ready to start living my life on my own terms. If I would’ve married one of the women my mother throws at me, it would’ve been a life sentence. That’s not what I want. I just want to do what I need to do to get my inheritance and cut ties.”
For some reason, this time, his honesty doesn’t make me feel better. It just makes me feel…cold. And a little empty.
It’s not the first time I’ve been slapped with the truth of our arrangement, but it cuts a little this time. But I’m grateful for the sting. It’s a sobering reminder of what we’re doing here and I need that going into the lion’s den.
Get in.
Get out.
And don’t get eaten alive.
Fifteen minutes later, I get an answer to one of my earlier mental questions. What do people do with that kind of money? They charter private jets.
As the driver pulls up, I swallow the nervous lump in my throat. “I’ve never flown before.”
Shep’s hand pauses on the door handle and he turns to me. “Never?”
“Nope.” My eyes flit from the sleek plane back to Shep.
I would never admit this to him but I spent the better part of last night worrying about every possible thing that could go wrong and thinking of ways out of it. That’s me. That’s what I do. I think about all the worst-case scenarios and then I think of how to fix them.
When I walk into a new place, I always look for the closest exit.
The couple of times I’ve stayed at a hotel, I’ve always located the nearest set of stairs.
In case of an emergency.
So, last night, I laid in bed on my phone googling all of the things that can go wrong on an airplane and how to survive a plane crash.
Take a non-stop flight.
Check.
Watch the skies.
Check. No bad weather in sight.
