Chapter 7
seven
CALLA
Despite the very-distracting fact that I somehow got married last night, I’m not thinking about it right now.
No, I’m thinking how Jay’s house is not what I expected from watching his videos. I’ve been here already, of course. But now I’m getting the chance to look around.
I say this, because it’s literally picture perfect. It’s easy to imagine curling up on the sofa with a blanket and a good book. The kitchen is immaculate and infinitely Instagram-worthy. And Jay’s office is truly a work of art, with dark wood paneling, sleek brass fixtures, and a large desk of dark wood that’s undoubtedly an antique.
For a man who runs a lifestyle brand, I imagined Jay would have a flashier, more ostentatious home. Instead, it’s intimate, expensive, and cozy. The kind of place you’d find in a home décor magazine, sure, but understated. Tasteful.
We sit at his reclaimed wood dining table, the kind with a distressed finish that probably cost a small fortune. He runs a hand through his hair, which only makes it look more artfully tousled. “The sponsors are my biggest worry,” he explains. “I spent years wooing them. I can’t lose them now.”
“Back up. What is a sponsor? I mean, I know the word, but not in this context.”
Jay sucks in a breath and then blows it out. “A lot of my posts feature sponsored content. Like a sporting goods company that wants me to feature their gear when I post from a hiking trail. Or a tailor wants me to post about having my wedding tux fitted there. That kind of thing.”
“Right. That makes sense.”
“In this case, I have three months’ worth of tourist traps and off-the-wall places to visit. Each one has several sponsored content posts lined up.” He traces lines in the kitchen island. “My agent lined them all up months ago.”
“Your agent?” My eyebrows fly up. “I thought you were a one-man operation.”
He laughs. “Far from it. My company, Alto & Ash, employs twelve full-time employees. Not only do I have camera and sound people, but I have an agent, a lawyer, a PR firm… There are a lot of moving parts.”
I breathe out, trying to grab reality and hold on for everything I’m worth. This whole situation is surreal. Yesterday, I was just a cake baker, rushing to get Jay’s order completed. Now, I’m in Jay’s house. And I have a new last name.
I’m technically Mrs. Jay Rustin. Thinking about it nearly gives me a panic attack, so I shove that thought aside, not giving it room to dominate my thoughts. Instead, I focus on what Jay is telling me.
“What are your options?” I ask. I’m genuinely curious. But selfishly, I also might be a little concerned. After all, if Jay tanks after marrying me, it could reflect on me and my business.
“My agent hasn’t been here yet to remind me of what I already know. I have close to half a million dollars in sponsored content that is supposed to play out as my ‘Honeymoon Road Trip’. If I cancel any of the posts, it’ll cost me serious money. So… yeah, I don’t know what my options are, really.”
“Whoa! Five hundred thousand dollars?” I swallow. “That’s some serious cash.”
“My agent has been working his ass off to ink these deals. He’s panicking right now.” He squints. “He dropped by earlier and was extremely displeased with the whole situation.”
“It sounds like Blake just screwed you both over.”
“Not just the two of us. Everyone in the company will be affected. I’ll have to fire people. Basically, if I don’t go on this road trip, I’m going to have a week to replace the honeymoon trip’s sponsored content. It took my agent four months to set those dates up.”
“Oh.” I purse my lips. “Well, let’s game everything out. Let’s talk about all your options. Surely you have more than just begging Blake to still go on your honeymoon with you.”
“Ugh. That’s never going to happen. I had a bad feeling about Blake going into the wedding. Then she ditched me at the altar and I woke up married to you!” His shoulders slump. “But how can I play this off as a ‘Solo Honeymoon’? Sponsors want real newlyweds, not a solo vlogger.”
I put my fork down. My face suddenly feels flushed. “So… you’re saying you can’t do it alone?”
“I could. It just won’t have the same impact. The whole point was to show a genuine, relatable experience. If I go by myself, it looks sad. Pathetic, even.”
I study him. He’s handsome in that rugged, everyman way, but there’s a fragility to his eyes that I hadn’t noticed before.
He’s scared. This is more than just a business venture for him. It’s his life.
“Jay, I’m sure we can annul this quickly and you can find another way to?—”
Before I can finish, the front door bursts open and a whirlwind of energy and noise sweeps into the room. Jay’s team, I assume. A man in his late twenties, dressed in a too-tight blazer, is juggling a stack of papers and a tablet. Behind him, a petite woman with neon pink hair brandishes a selfie stick like it’s a magic wand.
“James! Lana!” Jay says, standing. “I thought we were meeting later.”
James, the blazer, gives Jay a look that says, Are you kidding?
“I’m your business manager. You have business that apparently needs managing.” James thrusts the tablet into Jay’s hands. “The sponsors are freaking out.”
Lana isn’t paying attention. She’s circling the table, angling her selfie stick to capture different shots of Jay and me.
“This is so cute. We should do several posts about the surprise wedding. You have footage, right?”
“Lana,” Jay says, a warning in his tone. She pouts but lowers the selfie stick. Jay looks at me apologetically. “Sorry. Lana just loves her job.”
I feel like I’m watching a reality show, one of those behind-the-scenes episodes where the cast and crew bicker about creative differences. Except this is real, and I’m in it.
“Are you going on the honeymoon together?” Lana asks.
“What?” Jay looks at her sharply. “What gave you that idea? ”
Mortified, I slide off the stool and smooth my skirt. “Uhhh… I should go. It sounds like you have a lot to work out.”
Jay looks at me, then at his team. “Calla, wait. We haven’t finished talking.”
I hesitate. Do I want to wait? This isn’t my world. These aren’t my people. But something in his pleading, desperate tone makes me pause.
“Just give me a minute,” he says. “Please?”
Wordlessly, I sit back down. But my eyes are sharp and they take in the scene. My body stays tense, ready to spring up and flee at any moment. Jay and James are huddled together, whispering fiercely. Lana slides into a seat across from me. She taps away on her phone, probably updating a thousand different social media accounts.
“Calla,” Jay says, walking back to the table. James hangs back, arms crossed. His face is a mask of disapproval.
Jay hesitates, then runs a hand through his hair. "Can we talk? Just us. Privately."
"Fine," I say, pushing myself to my feet. "But make it quick."
He leads me down a hallway into the laundry room. It’s cramped, with a stackable washer-dryer unit and shelves overflowing with neatly folded linens. The door closes with a soft click.
Suddenly, we're in our own little world.
"I've got a proposition for you."
More ominous words have never been uttered. Here it comes. The real pitch. I brace myself.
“What?” I ask, crossing my arms. Jay flashes me with a smile.
"We stay married for the duration of the honeymoon trip and a short period after. Then we get the marriage annulled."
I stare at him, waiting for the punchline. When it doesn’t come, I say, "You’re joking."
"I'm serious. This way, the sponsors see a real couple visiting the weird tourist stops that they are paying me to promote. We fulfill the contract… and then we go our separate ways."
Schooling my expression, I give him a look. “How long?”
“Well.” His smile widens. I see now that Jay uses his smile to hide his discomfort. Interesting. He spreads his hands wide. “I’d need you for four months. I know that seems like a long time?—"
“Absolutely not.” I shake my head. "There is no way. I have a business to run! I can't just take off for a few months. And what about my family? My sisters? What would I tell them?”
He leans against the washer and crosses his arms over his chest. "I thought about that. What if I make sure word spreads about your business? Boost your profile, feature your baking skills. You’ll get more exposure than you ever could on your own. And I’ll help you hire someone to fill in while you’re gone."
I bite my lip. The exposure would be huge. Still…. "How will we explain deciding to split up?” I frown, trying to picture it. All I’m getting right now is a very blurry, distorted image.
Jay uncrosses his arms and takes a step toward me. He puts a gentle hand on my arm. "I'll take full responsibility. We'll tell everyone it was an elaborate, humorous stunt. My fans will eat it up. I promise. And….” He raises a finger. “You can tell your sisters that the marriage is fake if you can trust them to keep it to themselves."
I focus on a bottle of fabric softener on the shelf instead of the man in front of me. His hand on my arm is making my resistance soften ever so slightly.
This is insane. Completely, utterly insane. No sensible person would agree to what he’s proposing. But is it any more insane than waking up married to a stranger in the first place?
"Come on, gorgeous," Jay says softly. I glance at him just in time to see him get down on one knee. He takes my hand. A jolt of electricity shoots up my arm. "Will you stay fake married to me?"
"I... uh...." My mind is a whirlwind. Part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity. Another part of me is screaming to run for the hills . A chuckle escapes me. "Are you always this persuasive?"
He stands but doesn’t release my hand. "Only with beautiful bakers who accidentally become my wife."
I roll my eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corner of my lips. "Flattery isn’t going to get you anywhere, you know."
"It’s worth a shot." He shrugs, that easy confidence returning.
There’s a moment of silence, but it’s not uncomfortable. I think about the money that I could make, the exposure that this venture would net me, and the ridiculousness of the whole situation. Can I really do this? Can I pretend to be his wife for a few months and come out unscathed?
Yes? That’s my answer. Yes with a question mark at the end.
"Fine," I say. Jay’s eyes light up and I forestall him with a finger. "Do me a favor. Let’s agree, here and now, that we won’t end up falling in love with each other. I have a bakery to run. You? Yesterday, you were set to marry another woman."
“Don’t remind me!” He clutches his chest, playing the part of a tragic hero. "I’ll try really hard not to be swept off my feet. It does help that I just got dumped and happen to think love is for suckers."
"That’s reassuring," I say, though a tiny part of me feels a pang of something at his declaration. Disappointment, maybe? It’s too faint for me to tell.
Jay extends his hand and gives me a devilish smile. "Deal?"
My lips twitch with humor. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
I take his hand and we shake. It’s awkward, like neither of us is sure how long to hold on. The handshake morphs into a hesitant hug. I’m hyper-aware of his body against mine. His warmth, his scent. We pull away and for a moment, we just look at each other.
"Okay," I say awkwardly. “Well, I should get home. The cupcakes won’t frost themselves.”
I turn to leave. As I open the door, he says, "Calla."
I pause, not turning back, waiting. My heartbeat sounds like a bass drum in my ears.
"Thank you," Jay murmurs.
I step outside into his house, nerves jangling. But for the moment, I have the feeling that everything might just be okay.