Fake It For Me_A Fake Fiance Romance Page 14

  So, that’s just what I did. I packed my bag, gathered up my computer, and bid farewell to my temporary apartment. I spent the train ride upstate in a strange frame of mind. The part of me gripped with anguish at what had happened battled with the side of me braced with righteous anger. And I knew this wasn’t simply a matter of conflicting emotions—it was the young, scared girl that I used to be, fighting it out with the woman I’d become.

  By the time I crossed the threshold into my cozy little house, the latter had won. I was ready to put all of this nonsense behind me, to do what needed to be done. I flicked the lights on in my place, the warm glow of the lamps illuminating the interior of my little cottage-style home on the outskirts of Hemswood. It was the perfect place to work—just far enough from town to give me the privacy and focus I needed, but close enough that I didn’t feel isolated. And at that moment, the focus was what I was after.

  Once in my office, plopped down at my desk, and powered up my computer. As I scanned my email I spotted one sent by Mitch, my editor. When I opened it up, I saw that he was eager to hear about my progress on the article and that he wanted me to give him a call as soon as I could.

  I took a deep breath and pulled my phone out of my bag. Once it was powered up, I saw that I’d received even more texts from Connor. There were about six in total, all saying—sure enough—some variation on “call me.” They’d stopped about a half-hour ago—I hoped this meant he’d gotten the hint.

  “Hey, kid!” said Mitch, his voice as boisterous as ever. “How’re things going with the project?”

  “Well, Mitch, it all started with me trying to use my history with Connor to land the interview. But soon after, I found myself falling for him all over again. Long story short, we ended up having sex a few times, but not before he managed to rope me into some fake marriage plan. And now I’m sitting here with the mental image fresh in my mind of some redhead with enormous boobs sitting on his lap and lipstick smeared over his face.”

  That’s what I wanted to say, at least.

  “All’s well,” I said, getting up and walking slowly around the office was I spoke. “Just finished my last interview with Connor. And the outline’s just about ready—only need to fill it in.”

  “Perfect, perfect,” he said. “And…how was it? We were lucky as hell to land him for the interview. This guy’s kind of a hot commodity at the moment.”

  “It was…good,” I said, letting out the understatement of the century. “He’s an interesting guy.”

  “So I hear. And I know you guys had a history together…that make things weird?”

  “Nope!” was all I said, using every bit of restraint I had.

  “Ah, OK,” said Mitch, his tone suggesting he could tell that there was more to the story. “Well, I’ll let you get back to it.”

  We said our goodbyes, and that was that. Taking my place back at the computer, I pulled open the files and cracked my knuckles. But before I set to typing, the glint of something at my hands caught my eye. It was my engagement ring. With a frustrated yank, I pulled it off my finger and tossed it into the back of one of my desk drawers.

  I was ready to put all of that nonsense behind me. I was ready to write the article of my life.

  Chapter 25

  Connor

  My stomach sank as the elevator rose. It was the day after the debacle at the party and the board had called an emergency meeting.

  I shook my head as I recalled the remainder of the previous night. Once Alice had burst from the apartment, it was just me, Lillian, and everyone else who’d walked in on the compromising scene. Lillian hopped off my lap as the guests stared at me with expressions of total shock, and she strode out of the room like nothing had happened.

  A few excuses managed to sputter out of my mouth as I squirmed through the party and out the front door, the feel of every set of eyes in the place so intense that it felt like a hole was being burned into my back.

  Alice didn’t respond to any of my texts and calls, of course. Part of me had hoped I’d come home and see her there seated on the balcony, that I’d be able to explain all of this to her, to let her know that she’d walked in on the exact moment that she shouldn’t have.

  But I had no such luck. She wasn’t there. Alice had left her few things at my place and fled. I knew that I had to make that situation right, but for now, I had a meeting to contend with—a meeting that I knew was going to be as rough as they came.

  I took a long, deep breath as I stood in front of the conference room doors. Steeling myself, I gave them a knock.

  “Come in.”

  The stern faces of the board greeted me as I stepped in. Lionel, Earl, and Wendy were all seated at the table. Not one of them even bothered with anything even resembling a pleasantry.

  “Have a seat, Dr. Rex,” said Lionel.

  I slipped into the chair across from the three and waited for the ax to drop.

  “Quite a little show you put on last night,” said Lionel.

  “Listen,” I said. “You all have to believe that it—”

  “‘Wasn’t what it looked like’?” asked Wendy, raising her eyebrows with incredulity. “You’re really going to lay that old excuse on us?”

  “Don’t insult our intelligence,” said Earl.

  “But it’s the God’s-honest truth,” I said. “I went into your office, Lionel, to make a call. And as I was in there, Lillian came in and…made a move. And I was trying to leave, but she wouldn’t let me go.”

  Lionel scoffed.

  “Are you trying to tell us that a one hundred-and-ten pound nurse somehow prevented you from leaving?”

  “What,” asked Wendy. “Did she pin you down with her cleavage?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but realized that there wasn’t a thing I could say that would get me out of this. They’d walked on me in the most compromising position imaginable, and trying to talk my way out of it would likely only make things words.

  “As a senior member of the staff, you have a responsibility to act in a mature manner,” said Lionel. “And screwing around with nurses fresh out of school is the exact opposite of that.”

  “And on the day of your going-away party,” said Earl. “What’s the matter with you? Do you just wander off in whatever direction your cock takes you?”

  That was pretty salty language for a board meeting.

  “It…It wasn’t that,” I said. “She came onto me, and I was doing all I could short of tying her up.”

  “Everything short of leaving,” said Lionel. “Everything short of having some damned respect for your fiancée.”

  Lionel’s words cut to the core. Was there truth to what he’d said? Sure, I resisted Lillian, but was there part of me that was intrigued by her little offer? I looked down for a moment and considered the matter.

  No. Alice was on my mind the entire time.

  “While it’s not against hospital policy to police personal behavior,” said Lionel, “I’m sure you’d agree that this sort of…nonsense is hardly becoming of the sort of doctor that we’re going to send across the country to represent our staff.”

  “Does that mean I’m not going to LA?” I asked.

  “No,” said Earl. “You’re going to go. But after some discussion, we’ve made the decision that you’re not quite ready for the responsibility of heading an entire cardiac unit.”

  “After all,” said Wendy, “if you’d behave so egregiously with your family, what does that say about your potential in a position of such responsibility?”

  “Perhaps I was wrong about you,” said Lionel, a sadness to his tone. “Maybe I got so drunk on the idea of you being some kind of wunderkind that I looked past red flags flapping right in front of my face. Maybe I was seeing things that weren’t really there.”

  I felt like the bottom had dropped out from under me. And on top of everything else, this was all because of something that I didn’t even do.

  Then again, did I really think I was going to put this lie pas
t everyone and get out scot-free? Maybe this was the universe’s way of righting things.

  “So,” I said. “Where does that leave me?”

  “As we said, you’re still going to LA,” said Lionel. “But instead of being the head of the cardiac ward, you’re going to be there at a much lower position. Less responsibility and less pay. But it’s a level that you’ve proven yourself to be worthy of.”

  I said nothing, the words hanging in the air.

  “You might be able to make things right, Connor,” said Lionel. “But you’ve got a long climb ahead of you. During these last few weeks, I strongly suggest that you keep your head down and finish getting your affairs in order as smoothly as you can. That will be all.”

  Part of me still wanted to say something, anything in my defense. But I knew it would be pointless. Defeated, I heaved myself up from my chair and left the office the way I came. Soon, I was back on my floor. The staff there shot my furtive glances as I walked past—none of them seemed to be sure of just how to interact with me.

  On the way there, I passed Lillian. She regarded me with a cool expression, as if I were someone she’d never met before.

  Once in my office, I whittled away the next few hours getting appointments for my patients. The morning shifted into the afternoon, and soon I was feeling the need to stretch my legs. I stepped into the break room and laid eyes on the last man that I wanted to see: Richter Delahunt. He was alone, seated at one of the tables, a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “Afternoon, Connor,” he said, a pleased little smile on his face that I had to use every bit of restraint not to smack off.

  “Afternoon, Richter.”

  “I heard that you had a little meeting with the board this morning. All went well, I hope?”

  He was pleased as goddamn punch and eager to rub my face in what had happened.

  “That’s very sweet of you to be concerned about my future, Richter, but you can spare me.”

  A look flashed on his face, as though he were considering his next words carefully.

  “That Lillian’s a lovely girl. I don’t blame you for indulging in your…baser instincts. Back when I was her instructor at nursing school I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t a little tempted from time to time.”

  I raised an eyebrow at this.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “You know Lillian?”

  Richter’s eyes widened. I could tell instantly that he realized that he’d said too much.

  “I mean, yes, I knew her from back when.”

  I walked slowly across the room, closing in on Richter.

  “You knew this nurse who just happened to be partnered with me for orientation, who just happened to flirt with me like a horny fucking teenager from the moment she saw me, who just happened to put me in a compromising position at just the right moment to totally screw me over. Tell me, Richter, just why did everyone decide to come into the office at that exact moment?”

  Richter’s eyes shot around the room, as if looking for someone who could help him out of his current predicament. But it was just the two of us.

  “Come on, buddy,” I said. “You and I know that bullshit-weaving isn’t your strong suit. Lay it out for me—what the hell did you do?”

  Now I was mere feet away from Richter. A worried expression painted his gaunt features and he formed his mouth into a tight, hard line, as if trying to block up a flow of words.

  Finally, he burst.

  “I was making things right!” he said. “You were about to get away with the lie of the goddamn century and get the position that I deserved!”

  I snorted, pleased to hear the confession right from the source.

  “So, you decided to enlist your little pal Lillian to frame me up, to make me look like a cheating piece of shit in front of everyone.”

  “That’s right,” said Richter. “And truth be told, I thought it would be easier. I know the man you are—I figured I’d just need to dangle that piece of tail in front of you and you’d trip over your own goddamn feet to satisfy your…baser urges. We had to get creative, and it worked.”

  I scoffed, my face now so close to Richter’s that I could feel his hot, nervous breath on my skin.

  “Maybe you should’ve considered whether or not you’d have the balls to go through with this before you decided on this backhanded bullshit.”

  I stepped back, my eyes narrowed into menacing slivers.

  “What…what the hell are you going to do now?”

  At that moment, two very distinct emotions ran through me: One of pure, controlled calm, the other the raging urge to clock Richter as hard as I could. I took a moment and let the latter pass.

  “The real question is just what the hell you’re going to do, buddy,” I said, allowing myself a small smile. “You’re found out. You’re fucked. And I’m willing to bet if this is how easy you crack under the pressure, then your little redhead femme fatale isn’t going to do much better.”

  “Then we call it even,” said Richter.

  “Fat fucking chance,” I said, scoffing. “You cost me my promotion and you made me look like a shithead in front of the board and Alice. This isn’t going to be square until you come clean.”

  I glanced away for a moment to collect my thoughts.

  “So, here’s what we’re going to do: I’m gonna do some damage control with Alice. And in the meantime, you’re going to figure out just how you’re going to let the board know that you set me up. Got it?”

  Richter mumbled something under his breath.

  “Didn’t catch that,” I said. “Care to repeat it?”

  “Fine,” said Richter, his eyes downcast.

  “Good talk, champ,” I said. “See you again before too long.”

  I gave him a wink as he looked up and I took off out of the break room. Back in my office I sat down in front of the computer. With a few quick keystrokes, I pulled up the local directory for Hemswood.

  I had work to do.

  Chapter 26

  Alice

  I raised my index finger dramatically into the air and brought it down onto the period key. Just like that, I was done. The article was written, and I could finally put all of this nonsense with Connor behind me.

  My eyes moved over the page, going over the last few paragraphs of what I’d written. I couldn’t tell if I was in the midst of a high from finally being done or what, but this really did look like the best work I’d ever done. I would need to make a pass or two over it to iron things out here or there, but so far it was a piece to be proud of. I was even a good girl, fighting off the urge to stick in a barb here and there about Connor. I was professional, through and through.

  That is, aside from the “fake marriage” thing. And the part where I slept with him…multiple times.

  But it was all over and done with. That strange little chapter of my life was close, and I was ready to celebrate. I put some lively music on and danced-walked my way to the kitchen, where removed a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge and poured myself a tall glass. Then, drink in hand, I leaned back against my kitchen counter and took a sip.

  And felt totally, unbearably lonely.

  I couldn’t wrap my mind around just why I felt this way. The work was done, the music was cheerful and upbeat, and the wine was delicious. But, despite all of this, Connor, that stupid prick, had managed to work his way back into my thoughts.

  The image of him with that chick on his lap was still fresh in my mind, and set my blood boiling every time I called it up from my memory. But once I managed to cast that aside, I was left with the rest of the time I’d spent with Connor over the last few weeks. It was so strange how he’d managed to go out of his way to show me how he’d changed, what a different man he was, only to throw it away. And for what? A make-out session in his boss’s office?

  Something about all of this just seemed so strange, so incongruous. But then again, if Connor really was the same man then everything made perfect sense. He’d let the mask slip, a
nd that was that. But whatever happened, it didn’t change the fact that the time I’d spent with him had been some of the best days of the last few years. He, and Hunter, had brought something into my life that all the professional success in the world couldn’t hope to replicate.

  And now, here I was, all alone in my little house trying to ignore the wound in my heart. I knew that I’d need time to recover. But where to even begin? Drown my sorrows in white wine and reality TV?

  An hour later or so and, sure enough, that’s where I was. Plopped on the couch, wine in hand, the TV a low din of picture and sounds to which I couldn’t even pretend to pay attention. I understood that I needed to take some time readjust, to remember that the life I shared with Connor was nothing more than a game of pretend that had gone on for long past its expiration date. Of course, this did nothing to ease the ache that thrummed in my heart.

  About halfway into my second glass, however, as the pretty brunette on the reality show stood in front of her three generically handsome suitors, trying to decide which one was the man for her, my phone rang. I snatched it up from the coffee table and looked at the screen.

  Unlisted number. I knew that I should just put the phone back and return to my sad little night, but something compelled me to answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey there.”

  I gasped. It was Connor.

  My first instinct was one of total joy. But I tempered my reaction as I remembered that Connor had done me about as wrong as a man could.

  “What do you want?” I asked with a sharp tone.

  “Listen, I know you’re mad at me, and I know that you likely decided that you never want to talk to me again.”

  “Nice to see that big brain of yours isn’t just for heart surgery.”

  “But,” he continued, “before you hang up the phone, why don’t you take a look out the front window.”