by Elyse Riggs
From the looks of it, he seriously expects me to answer. I guess we’re going to drop everything else and brainstorm this thing right now.
“Um,” I clear my throat and start to speak like it’s the easiest question to answer in the world. But it’s not.
It should not be this hard, in theory. In truth I’ve never thought about what is considered verifiable proof of being in a real, grown-up relationship before. I’ve also never faked one before.
I guess I expected that an interview, or the publicity photos, or maybe a document certifying that we are in fact engaged to be enough. And who would be able to argue?
I have the ring, and we have an agreement. It’s just not the exact kind of agreement we’re pretending to have. Oh shit, that makes me a liar. And I’m really bad at lying. I start to worry.
If I do sign something, can I get charged for this? It’s never the rich people that go to jail. How crazy would it be for me to be in jail for something like this while my ex gets to be free after robbing me of every cent? Life sure as hell isn’t fair.
“Kaylee?” His eyebrows are knotted together in concern.
I have to wonder, is it concern over me losing it and panicking about our agreement, or concern for me as a person? Suddenly I’m very confused.
“I’m thinking.” That’s the only answer I have for him right now. And it’s true.
Then my phone buzzes. I look down at it. “Fuck.” All this shit with Chase has me so distracted that I missed a ton of texts. And calls. It was all fun and games when Chase was ignoring his messages, but these are from my mom. She heard about the engagement. From the tabloids. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“What’s up?” he asks. “Because it doesn’t look like you’re working on a plan to convince the board we’re a couple.”
I stand and shoot daggers into his beautiful eyes. “No, I most certainly am not working on your stupid issues right now, Chase. I missed like, a billion texts. From my mom. She knows we’re engaged. She found out from the tabloids.” It hits me that this whole plan is riskier than I thought. If my mom found out, what about my friends? Or even worse, my work?
“So? Just text her back,” he replies.
I look around for something to throw at him. All I find is a soft pillow, but it’ll do.
“Hey!” he objects.
“Just text her back? Like it’s that easy? Your Covington family didn’t have to hear about it through the tabloids.”
“What are you talking about?” he asks, dodging the pillow. “My family finds out most of our secrets and skeletons from the tabloids, eventually. You get used to it.”
“I’m not getting used to it,” I tell him.
My friends. I open my eyes and before I do anything else, I text them begging to meet me tonight at the Tiki. I’m going to come clean and hope they haven’t already figured it out. No matter what else happens this weekend, I’m going to do my best not to count my family and friends as wreckage from this one really weird agreement.
I shoot him an angry look and then turn my attention back to the phone. Oh boy, it’s not good. In addition to the texts, I have also missed a dozen calls.
The phone starts buzzing in my hand. It’s not making any noise. It’s on silent mode? I never put my phone on silent. I try to think back to when I would have done that and come up blank.
Chase gives me a quizzical look.
The phone is buzzing and lighting up and the name on the caller id is Mom. I look from the phone to Chase and then back again. “It’s my mom.”
“Don’t answer it!” he says, standing up and starting to pace.
“I have to pick it up, it’s my mother. I’ve missed a million calls. She’s going to think I’m dead in a ditch or something instead of just engaged if I don’t pick up.”
“Oh yeah, then you definitely have to pick it up.”
It’s on the third ring, and I’m starting to panic. It doesn’t help that his pacing is freaking me out. “Hey, your whole family knows, why can’t mine?”
I turn my attention from Chase to my phone to answer it. Oh wait, I already answered it a minute ago and didn’t realize it. Mom’s already talking and I’m missing it.
“Hello? Mom?” I interrupt.
“I thought I heard shouting. Is there shouting? Is everything okay?”
I narrow my eyes at Chase. He stands frozen, eavesdropping. “No, mom. I’m fine. Nobody’s shouting, it’s just the television.”
I point to the mounted television across the room and jump up and down gesturing for him to turn it on so that I’m not lying to my mom. Okay, so that I’m not lying to her any more than I already have to.
Chase starts rooting around the couch cushions for the remote, so I get out of the way. Now I start to pace.
“Kaylee, you’re engaged? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Um, it’s kind of complicated, Mom.”
“What’s complicated about getting engaged? Why does the whole world know except me? There are pictures and everything. It didn’t say your name, but of course I know my own daughter when I see her. You look great by the way. Although I don’t remember that bathing suit-”
“Look, I’m very sorry I didn’t get to tell you before the press got a hold of it, Mom.” That part is totally true.
“I’ve been getting messages about it all day,” she continues, “it’s been crazy. And you weren’t answering my texts or my phone calls. I was so worried I almost called the police to go find you.”
Drama queen much, Mom? “I accidentally set my phone on vibrate, Mom. I’ll check it from now on, okay?”
“How long have you been dating this Covington guy, anyway? And why would you start seeing someone famous and not tell your own mother? And when do I get to meet him?”
I have no answer for this. I freeze and look at Chase, who finally has the remote in his hand, but still hasn’t managed to turn the television on yet.
She wants to meet, I mouth-pantomime to him, holding my hand over the microphone on my cell.
Chase makes panicked eye contact with me. Then his expression softens and he relaxes into a determined smile.
“I’ve got this,” he says.
And then, before I can even ask him what he’s talking about, he crosses the room and gently takes the phone from my hand. I watch the whole thing wondering what the hell is going on. It feels like an out-of-body experience.
“Hi, Mom, this is Chase.” His voice is smooth and reassuring. He sits down on the couch and pats the space next to him for me to sit.
“What’s happening?” I whisper to him. And in the absence of another idea, I sit. He continues talking to my Mom.
“How did we meet?” He smirks at me. “Well, you could say that we bonded over chocolates. And carved coconuts.”
I sit and marvel at how good he is on the phone with my mom. Judging by the side of the conversation that I can hear, it’s taken a turn toward sweets. That makes sense since my mom is nearly as chocolate obsessed as the Covingtons.
I sit and listen closely so that one, I can keep the story straight for the next time I talk to my Mom, and two, because this is a different side of Chase. One I didn’t expect. What exactly is happening here? Did the notorious Chase Covington just turn into boyfriend material? I think it’s sweet. Brad always found a way to disappear any time my mom called.
Eventually, the conversation winds down.
He puts a hand over the speaker and turns to me. “She wants a selfie.”
I process for a second. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Your mom, she wants a selfie. Of the two of us.”
I’m trying to remember a time my mom has ever even said the word selfie, much less asked for one. “Um, okay. How about on the balcony?”
He grins. “Kaylee has an excellent idea. We’ll take the picture out on the balcony. How does that sound? Yeah? Okay, hold on. Want to say bye to her?”
He hands me the phone.
I feel like I’m in shock, but someho
w I manage to get my lips to form words. “Hi, Mom. You love him? Yes, that’s great. You too. Okay, we’re going to go take the selfie now and I’ll talk to you later.” When I hang up, I’m wondering what the hell just happened.
Chase and I go out onto the balcony and take a series of selfies. Getting a good picture that both of us agree on turns out to be harder than I thought.
I blink in the first three. Then Chase blinks in the next two. Then we both grin like evil maniacs. That picture will never do, but we laugh for like ten minutes afterward.
Then we take ten more until we find one that we both like and send it to both of our parents at the same time. That way we’re covered for a while. Finally, we sit on the balcony chairs and take in the night stars and the sea breeze together.
Once we send the pics and take a few minutes to relax, I turn to him. “Alright, so when did you become the mom-whisperer?”
He laughs. “You looked kind of stressed.”
Huh, as it turns out Chase Covington has a sweet side. And he’s also full of surprises. “Thanks, you really came through.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Kaylee
A minute later, my phone buzzes. Only this time it’s accompanied by my signature notification sound, seagulls. I check it.
Oh no. My friends. In the aftermath of the mom phone conversation and the selfie obsession, I completely forgot about them. I’m already fifteen minutes late.
I stand up and then freeze. I know I should stay here and help Chase plot corporate domination, but I’m starting to have mixed emotions and I need some space. It bothers me a little how great he was with my mom. In a way, I wish he weren’t. All this will be so much harder if I fall for him. And I know I have to come clean to my friends.
“I’m so sorry, Chase, but I’m late,” I say. I cross to his bedroom to get my purse.
When I come back out, he looks panicked. “Where are you going?”
“To meet my friends. I’m going to come clean. I’m worried that if my mom figured it out, then they will too. It’s only a matter of time. I want them to hear it from me.”
I curse myself and think of the pictures being put out by the stupid paparazzi.
“What are we going to do about the board?” he asks. “We’re in this together, remember? How do we look like a real couple?”
He’s right. I stop to think about it for a minute. “They want us to look like a real couple, right? I guess I could ignore you and shoot down all of your suggestions. That’s what my parents do.” I know I’m being a smartass, but right now it’s all I’ve got. “What do your parents do?”
His face lights up. “Kaylee, you’re a genius.”
I look at him with deep suspicion. “You really want to go with bickering and pretending we don’t hear each other the first six times?”
He looks both gleeful and undaunted, despite my sarcasm. “My parents’ favorite thing to do together is evaluate real estate.”
I blink at him. What the hell is he talking about? “You want to go house hunting?”
“Yes, let’s. I’m sure there are some spectacular beach front properties in this area.” He crosses to where he has a laptop next to a kitchen nook across from the couch. “We’ll start first thing tomorrow morning. And we’ll need a real estate agent. I’ll let the driver know we need him in the morning. We’ll need a mortgage broker to certify any cash offers. There’s so much to do.”
I watch him for a second. It’s crazy how much fun he’s having with this whole real estate thing. I’m happy for him.
And I’m guessing that house hunting, even the fake variety, will probably be fun with a limo and a Covington. There are worse things to do with a day than tour ocean front property.
“Sure. I’m a genius. Because that’s exactly what I meant. If you’re good for a while, then I’m going to go, okay? I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”
He turns to me. “What?”
“I told you. I’m going out with my friends, see you in the morning. Carry on with all of your fun new projects.”
“But you have to sleep here,” he protests. “The last thing we need is photographers following you to your apartment and asking questions.”
I grit my teeth. He’s right. There goes my plan to have a little bit of peace and quiet. “Well, I need my clothes, Chase.”
He crosses the room. “I can fix this, you need clothes. Not your clothes. Right?” He eyes me up and down in a way he hasn’t done since the first night we met.
It does things to me. Specifically, after making a play to become boyfriend material. My body is turning traitor again, and I take a deep breath to steady myself.
He finishes sizing me up. I just didn’t think he meant literally. “What size are you then, a ten?”
I see red and grab a nearby napkin and throw it at him.
He laughs. “I kid, I kid. But seriously, I’ve seen a lot of you the last couple of days.”
His smirk brings out the dimple, and he’s awfully close now. Close enough to kiss me. I inhale his scent and think it’s about time he got to his point.
“And I’m convinced you’re a gorgeous size six. Am I right?”
Huh. Surprisingly, he is right. “Yes,” I look up into his eyes. “That’s right. But when will you have time to go shopping?”
Chase turns and walks back to his breakfast nook home office. Then he opens his laptop. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything.”
I slip out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chase
Kaylee walks out the door. I have so much to do. We’re a great team. She helped me get the idea for real estate, and the more I think about it, the better it is. Nothing makes a splash with a board of directors like good, old fashioned, equity.
Eye on the prize. I smile, guessing that paparazzi photos of the two of us house hunting in the local news will do the trick for the board. Hell, this town is growing on me more by the day. There’s no downside to adding beachfront real estate to diversify of my portfolio. And it ups the stakes in the eyes of the board. Hopefully. Win-win.
For a moment, I imagine Kaylee and I having cocktails together out by a pool when I come to visit. Whoa. I shake my head.
The one thing I have to do now is to focus on what’s going to help me win. And that’s not going to happen if I keep getting distracted by Kaylee. Shit, Chase. Stop thinking about her. You have work to do.
I turn my attention back to the computer and start looking up real estate agents. Then mortgage brokers. Then I do a quick scan of the local market. This is how I can distract myself. And it’s working.
I let myself run down the real estate rabbit hole. It feels comfortable. It’s what I do. Risk analysis, cost analysis, obtaining the correct support system for the acquisition. This is exactly what I need, a power move right when the board thinks I’m most vulnerable.
And clothes. I nearly forgot about ordering Kaylee some new clothes.
Chapter Thirty
Kaylee
I set off to meet my friends, excited to put some distance between me and Chase. Lines are getting blurred, and I’m worried that my feelings for him are getting real.
The restless feeling gets even more intense, and I find myself picking up speed until I’m sprinting across the sand.
As I approach, I’m breathless and thirsty and snacky again. Finally, I see the Tiki. A beacon of hope and normalcy.
Even from afar, I can tell the paparazzi is still using my bar as ground zero for their escapades. I’m not happy about it at all. In a way, the bar isn’t big enough for them and me. But I know that they aren’t going anywhere, and neither am I, so I’ll just have to deal with it.
At least my friends are here and at our usual table. That makes me feel a little better.
“Hi, guys!” I huff, breathless, as I slide into the empty seat. My favorite drink is waiting in front of me. Even better, they have ordered a round of chips and salsa for the table.
&
nbsp; The sight of food makes me so happy. “You guys are literal life savers; do you know that?” I ask, grabbing a chip. “I’m serious,” I say while chewing.
I take a sip of my drink and savor. Then I grab another chip, dip it, and stuff the whole, beautiful, satisfying thing into my mouth. I crunch loudly and I don’t care.
I just want to eat and drink and gossip with my friends and forget all about Chase Covington and how conflicted I feel. I close my eyes to savor the chip. When I open them again to get another chip, I realize that my friends are not happily eating and drinking with me, or even idly chatting.
Uh-oh. They are staring at me. Wild-eyed and crazy, even. Accusatory. Like I have a unicorn horn implanted into my forehead and didn’t offer to get them one. Both of their mouths hang open like a couple of angry, horrified codfish.
Did I forget to put on pants or something? Alarmed, I stop eating in order to look myself up and down. Then I stare back at my insane friends. “What?”
Fi clears her throat and points to my left hand.
I follow her gaze. Right to the gigantic diamond engagement ring that shines even brighter under the tiki lights than the north star in the night sky. The one that I completely forgot to take off in my rush to get here. Oh yeah, that.
I stare at it with them for a moment, like it had grown there out of thin air when I wasn’t looking. Like I am just as surprised as they are. Well, I came here tonight to come clean, so I guess it’s time for me to start.
I clear my throat. “Okay, um, I can explain.”
The expressions aimed at me turn from surprise to anger. They look really hot. And I guess I can’t blame them. In my defense, I feel like I’m in way over my head.
“Hold on,” I say, “it’s not what you think.”
“You’re not engaged?” Angie asks.
“Okay, that’s not entirely true. I guess it is what you think. I am engaged. Well, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Fi asks. “You can’t be kind of engaged. You either are or you aren’t.”
