Chapter 4
Natalie
Tip #4: Attempt to explain the how/why of your fake dating plan to your enemy without sounding completely unhinged.
I nervously clutched my matcha latte and wondered if meeting Samuel at his office would have been a better choice. But then again, that would mean stepping into enemy territory.
Instead, I’d chosen to meet Samuel in the private back room of Literum, a cozy café/bookstore located in one of the handful of historic buildings in downtown Fox Creek.
The giant picture window offered a view of the snow-dusted side street, and the mismatched furniture gave it a sense of charm. A few chairs, a tufted love seat, and a worn coffee table filled the space, while bookshelves lined the walls.
It was private enough for our meeting, but as I sat there, it occurred to me that this might not be the most neutral ground. (The Warners had tried to buy the building over a decade ago with plans to knock it down, a move my family had successfully campaigned against.)
“I never expected you, of all people, to invite me for coffee,” drawled an aggravatingly charming voice, drawing me out of my thoughts.
My nemesis entered the room, a few snowflakes dotting the shoulders of his black wool coat and his dark hair slightly mussed from the frigid wind outside. “When Miguel told me, I thought he’d lost it.” He shrugged off his coat, revealing a stylish suit that was probably from a fashionable European brand I would never be able to pronounce, much less afford.
“Trust me, Miguel was just as shocked as you when I asked him to pass along the message.” I set my latte down on the coffee table in front of my armchair, afraid that if I held it while talking to Samuel, I’d spill it.
The sound of him flopping down onto the faded velvet love seat across from my overstuffed armchair snapped me out of my anxious thoughts. He sat with a casual air, his dark eyes unreadable.
“Did you finally decide to take me up on my offer to discuss donations to the Friends of the Library over coffee?” he asked in that charming tone of his he used to get whatever he wanted, but I could sense an underlying curiosity.
“No,” I said. “I want to propose an idea to you.”
“An idea?” Samuel raised an eyebrow, surprise flickering across his handsome features. “That’s certainly new. Usually when a Mann approaches a Warner, it’s with an argument, not an idea. Go on, then. Tell me what you have in mind.”
Gathering my courage, I took a deep breath. “I think we—I mean you and I—should... fake date.” The words sounded even more ridiculous aloud than they had in my head, but I pushed forward. “With the goal that it would ease tensions between our families.”
Silence. Samuel stared blankly at me, saying nothing. The café background noises filled the void—the clink of cups and saucers and the faint hum of the espresso machine.
I plunged on. “I believe it’s time for the Manns and the Warners to overcome their differences. Don’t get me wrong, this would be for the sake of Fox Creek,” I fibbed. (I’d decided earlier there was no way I was going to reveal Owen’s feelings for Jenna. Not only did it feel disloyal, but who knew what Samuel would do with the information?)
Samuel’s expression didn’t change, his eyes remaining unreadable. It was unnerving—like trying to read a book with half the pages missing. But I refused to let him rattle me.
“It would be temporary,” I continued. “Just a couple of months. Long enough for our families to cooperate and see how great things could be when we aren’t at odds. Then we can end the fake relationship—amicably.”
Samuel’s face stayed blank. I nervously twisted a lock of my ash-brown hair around my finger. (I knew I should have put it up today. It was wavy on a good day, but whenever I was stressed out, I swear it frizzed up out of spite.) “You’re probably thinking a breakup might reignite the fight between our families, but it doesn’t have to. I mean, I’ve managed to end all my romantic relationships on friendly terms.”
My ability to end relationships well aside, it wouldn’t be too hard to keep the peace between the Manns and Warners. Hopefully, once Jenna and Owen started dating, they’d seamlessly transition to being the new rallying point for our families.
Samuel shifted in his seat, his eyes never leaving me as he kept his silence. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and the faint smell of books filled the air, mingling in the back of my throat with my growing anxiety.
I racked my brain for the points I’d rehearsed before the meeting. “I think it’ll be better for the community if our families get along,” I blurted out. “Our petty fights have made Fox Creek settle for stalemates when if we’d worked together the outcome would have been better for everyone. And while I want to do this out of love for our town, I don’t expect you to do this for nothing. I can help the Warners ingratiate themselves with the Fox Creek residents. We can improve Warner Print’s reputation.”
Despite the avalanche of words I’d unleashed, Samuel was still silent, his gaze fixed on me as if he could see right through my desperate attempt at subterfuge.
The longer his silence stretched, the more my stress level rose, and I found myself clutching at the arms of my armchair, my fingers pressing into the scratched wood.
“Look,” I said. “If you have any other ideas for mending the rift between our families, I’m all ears.”
Samuel moved, breaking his stare. He leaned back in the love seat, his face thoughtful for a moment before that teasing smile of his appeared. “Well, Miss Mann,” he drawled, “I believe you’ve presented a creative solution to our admittedly inconvenient war. No need to consider alternatives.” His gaze locked on mine again, his eyes full of mischief. “I’m in. Let’s fake date.”
My jaw dropped. That was it? No arguments, no questions, no conditions? He just agreed?
That was way too easy. I’d prepared for at least fifteen minutes of criticism followed by an hour of strenuous arguing and deal striking.
A seed of suspicion wormed its way into my mind. What ulterior motives could he be hiding?
“Really?” I asked. “Just like that? You’re agreeing to this? What’s the catch?”
“Would you prefer if I refused your offer?” Samuel smirked, as if he had the upper hand in this. (Which, I suppose he did.) “There’s no catch. We both want our families to get along and improve relations in Fox Creek, right? If this is what it takes, then I’m game.”
“Right,” I slowly drew the word out. Although the idea had been mine, facing Samuel and his handsome, crooked grin, I couldn’t help but feel I might have made a mistake.
He caught onto my growing reservations. “We’re both adults here, Miss Mann. Surely we can handle a fake relationship for the greater good.”
“Yes,” I agreed. I hadn’t come up with any other ideas to help Owen out, so this was my best plan.
Samuel pulled out his cell phone, tapping away at the screen. “If we want to sell our families on this fake relationship, we’ll need a believable backstory.”
“I’ve already considered that.” I paused, still a little bothered that he’d accepted my idea so easily, then squared my shoulders. I needed to be focused for this part of the deal. “I think keeping our story simple is best. We should say we recently realized our feelings for each other and all of our bickering was flirting.”
Samuel broke into a coughing fit, which weirdly ruined the mold of the perfect image he always presented.
Concerned, I started to stand.
“I’m fine,” he got out, waving off my worry as he hacked one last time.
I slowly sank back into my seat, settling back into the puffy cushion of my armchair. “Are you sure?”
“Just fine,” he repeated. He cleared his throat, shook his head, and then his ever-confident smile/smirk was back. “Does your suggestion mean all those times you called me insufferable and the most arrogant person in Fox Creek, you were actually flirting with me?”
“Sure,” I agreed, not rising to his bait. “Just like you were flirting with me when you called me nosy and overly invested in Fox Creek.”
Samuel cocked his head as he studied his phone screen—I realized with some surprise he was taking notes. At least he was serious about this crazy plot of mine.
“We certainly are a unique couple,” Samuel said.
“Fake couple,” I corrected him.
Samuel ignored me. “But while I agree that a recent realization of our feelings makes for a believable explanation for our newfound closeness, what if we say we started dating in secret several months ago instead?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
Before Samuel could respond, Lauren, Literum’s owner, swept into the back room, bringing with her the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee.
She set a white cup and saucer down in front of Samuel. “Here’s that Americano you ordered, Samuel,” she said, giving us a once-over. “You two are an unlikely duo I never thought I’d see in my store.”
Samuel flashed his dazzling smile. “I’ve finally worn Natalie down, and she agreed to have coffee with me.”
Lauren looked at me skeptically and fluffed her hair—a pretty shade of gold in a pixie cut that she made fashionable when it would have looked stupid on me. “Really?”
I laughed, a sound that came out nervous and stretched. “Yeah, he can be quite persuasive.”
Internally, I cringed at my poor acting skills. If I wanted to fool our families and friends, I’d have to step up my game.
“Alright then. Enjoy your drinks.” Lauren gave me a knowing look, then left, her footsteps echoing as she disappeared into the bustling café/bookstore.
“That was eye-opening,” I muttered, flexing my fingers against the plush fabric of the armchair.
Samuel leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “See? That’s exactly why we should say we’ve been dating for a while. If we present our fake relationship as a new development, everyone will think we’re crazy and our families will focus on convincing us we’re nuts instead of making up.”
I picked up my paper to-go cup, and the warmth of my matcha latte seeped through the paper. I took a sip, and the creamy green tea and milk flavors danced on my tongue, soothing my nerves as I mulled over Samuel’s suggestion.
He was right. Lauren’s skepticism had been warranted, as she knew me quite well. It would be worse with my family, and if we wanted to clear the way for Owen and Jenna, we needed to convince the Manns that they had no choice but to get along with the Warners.
An older relationship would achieve that much faster.
I inhaled the steam from my latte for courage. “You’re right.”
I braced myself for a smug response.
Samuel—who was in the middle of sipping his Americano—set his drink down and immediately moved on, pushing the plan ahead with a suspicious amount of eagerness. “Good. Then, since we’ve been a couple for months, we’ll need to adopt some habits long-term couples have, like pet names. Naturally, we’ll also need to be physically expressive.”
“For nicknames we can just call each other Nat and Sam, since that’s what our families call us,” I said.
Samuel idly tapped his phone screen. “You know my family calls me Sam?”
“Of course I do,” I said, a little irritated. “We might not get along, but I’ve seen you almost every week of my life.”
“True.” Samuel gave me a more thoughtful look that made me shift in my comfy seat. “I guess I just didn’t expect you to pay attention to details about me.”
“Oh,” I said.
I suppose since the two of us rarely did anything besides bicker, I’d never given him a reason to believe I saw him as anything more than a picture I tacked to a dartboard to take out my aggression on.
“Alright, so we’ve got our pet names down,” Samuel said. “Now to address the physical aspect of our relationship.”
“Yeah. About that.” I took another sip of my latte, then set it back down on the coffee table. “We’ll have to stick to hugs and occasional hand-holding.”
“What?” Samuel sat on the edge of his love seat. “What kind of serious couple only hugs and holds hands? We should at least be prepared for short kisses.”
“Kisses?” I cackled. “I don’t think I could believably kiss you without looking like I want to wipe that smug smile off your handsome face.”
Samuel playfully tilted his head. “I’m flattered you think I’m handsome, Nat. Don’t worry—I promise not to let it go to my head.”
“Focus, Samuel. Focus,” I said.
Samuel relaxed and once again leaned back against the couch. “Of course, you want to stick to business. Fine, we can start with hugs and hand-holding.”
“Occasional hand-holding,” I corrected.
“If either one of us thinks our act isn’t convincing enough, we’ll revisit the physical touch aspect.” Samuel typed out his notes on his cell phone. “Does that make you happy?”
“Yes,” I reluctantly agreed. “We’ll probably have to adjust as we go anyway. Could you email me your notes?”
“I’ll do you one better and text them,” he said. “What’s your number?”
I internally weighed the pros and cons of giving him my number. Knowing Samuel, he’d start texting me in the middle of the night, asking me what the process was to submit construction permits, just to be annoying.
“Nat, darling, honey,” Samuel cooed. “What kind of serious boyfriend would I be if I didn’t have your number?”
Oh yeah. He was definitely going to send me annoying text messages.
I reluctantly gave it to him and retrieved my phone from my canvas backpack. (When I first graduated from college and joined the workforce I’d insisted on getting a handbag to carry my things in since it looked professional. But now, as I was roughly a year away from thirty and forced to visit the chiropractor like she was my best friend since I sat at my desk so long, I was forgoing professionalism for better posture.)
When my phone chirped with his incoming text message, I added him to my contacts. “I’m going to have to tell Owen the truth about us,” I said. “He’d never believe it otherwise, even if you went to Juilliard for acting classes.”
“That’s fine. I’ll need to tell Miguel the truth,” Samuel said. “Since he’s responsible for my work schedule, he’d know our dating timeline couldn’t exist.”
“Sounds good. I trust Miguel,” I agreed.
“Really?” Samuel asked. “Even though he works for Warner Print?”
“Yeah,” I said. “His husband, Kyle, is my second cousin.”
“Of course he is,” he rolled his eyes. “You Manns are related to half the town.”
I ignored him and eyed my phone’s clock. “We need to plan a hard launch for our relationship, but can we do that over email? My lunch break ends in ten minutes.”
“Sure,” Samuel said. “Don’t worry, it will be easy.”
I stared at him. “Easy? This is going to be anything but easy.”
He shook his head. “Nonsense, Nat. We’re a match made in heaven—or rather, a match made in Fox Creek.”
“We have to be convincing,” I said.
“Piece of cake.” He shrugged, his confidence unshakable. “After all, who wouldn’t believe that the charming Samuel Warner has finally won over the heart of the lovely Natalie Mann?”
Instead of being annoyed by his confidence and ridiculous charm, I actually found it comforting. He needed to be confident or my family would eat him alive.