Chapter 9 Zofia
zofia
Nicolas
You good?
Zofia
Yes.
Still processing, I guess.
Nicolas
I know.
But it’s going to be fine, I promise.
Zofia
You say that now, but…
Nicolas
Trust me, gorgeous.
I’ll make sure you never regret agreeing to marry me.
Zofia
Fake marry.
Nicolas
Sure.
See you soon.
Ididn’t know how to feel. We’d promised nothing would change between us, and then I’d gone and told my Amma we were dating. We’d said nothing would change, and then we’d somehow gotten fake engaged.
So, maybe I was freaking out… just a little.
The time on the clock blinked back at me like the countdown to my doom.
“It’s just dinner,” I reminded myself as I paced back and forth on the carpet. “Dinner with Nicolas. Your boss. Who you told your mom is your boyfriend. No big deal.”
Tonight, Nic was coming to dinner to meet my family for the first time, and I was introducing him to them as my fiancé, not just my boss.
Duchess jumped on my bed, kneading the soft white comforter with her paws as she started to purr, a telltale sign that she wanted pets.
“Hi, sweet girl,” I cooed, scratching between her ears.
I’d tried on practically every outfit in my wardrobe, and nothing felt right. It was beginning to actually feel like fall in Portland, and I wanted something casual but still cute.
“What the heck do you wear to tell your parents you’re getting married to your boss?” I groaned, wishing she could answer me.
Instead, all I got was a small meow and white kitty fur on my abandoned outfits.
The worst thing was that ever since I’d told my mother we were in a relationship, she’d been so giddy.
Like she was happy, just knowing I was seeing someone and wasn’t alone.
Like my relationship status alone helped reassure her that I was okay.
A sinking feeling settled in my gut, knowing we would be lying to everyone we cared about.
What was I going to do when they all found out exactly what was happening?
When we had to play pretend for real?
I was scared to find out. Especially since I was still trying to figure out our new normal ever since we’d signed the contract—ever since I’d spent the night in his bed, really.
That nagging voice in my mind kept reminding me what we’d agreed to. In less than a month, he was going to be my husband. What was I thinking, saying yes to marrying the man who signed my paychecks?
I rubbed my empty ring finger, wondering what it would feel like to wear his ring.
To be his wife in name only. No feelings—no love. I already felt guilty. What would I feel like when we actually tied the knot?
“Just a contract,” I reminded myself, muttering to myself as I cleaned papers off my desk. No feelings.
Finally, I settled on a soft cotton light pink sundress with pockets and straps that tied into bows on my shoulders.
I did a little twirl and then turned to my cat, still curled on my bed.
“Good?” I asked her, not expecting an answer.
Still, when she gave me a little chirp in response, I took that to be cat for yes.
Duchess was one of the most vocal cats I’d ever met, which was one of my favorite things about her.
I loved how loving she was, and how if I meowed at her, she’d meow back, like we were having our own little conversation.
My favorite wedge sandals were sitting next to my purse, just waiting to be slipped on.
I checked the time again as my hand drifted to the small gold pendant that hung around my neck. I ran it back and forth across the chain.
There were only a few minutes left until Nicolas was picking me up, and I was trying to get a handle on my emotions before he arrived.
It shouldn’t have been strange, considering we normally drove together to work events, but it felt different knowing we were going to my childhood home. Knowing that this wasn’t a work event, and we were going to have to act like we were in love.
Me. In love with Nicolas Larsen. I snorted. Unlikely. “Isn’t that a funny thought, Duch?”
She gave me a little mrowf before jumping off the bed, likely in search of a mouse toy to chase around the living room. Or a hair tie, because my girl was easy to please.
The doorbell rang, and I sucked in a deep breath.
He was here.
When I opened the door, I found my fake fiancé grinning, leaning against the wall with a bouquet of flowers in his arms.
“Hey.” I ignored the little flutters in my stomach.
“Hi.” His eyes trailed up and down my body. “You look gorgeous.”
I looked down at my dress, hiding my smile. “Thank you. Not so bad yourself.” He was wearing a red short sleeved button-up shirt and slacks. He was still dressy, but it was a far cry from his typical office attire of a three piece suit.
Nicolas handed me the flowers. “These are for you.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I insisted. “It’s not like this is real.”
He shrugged. “I wanted to.”
I buried my face into the peonies, inhaling the sweet scent. “Let me just put these in water and then we can go.” I carried the bouquet into the kitchen, rooting around for a vase under my sink. Nicolas followed me inside, and Duchess was immediately all over him, rubbing herself on her legs.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he murmured, reaching down to run his hands over her fluffy coat. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Duchess meowed in response, tilting her head back as he kept petting her.
It was strange to think that in the past year, he’d never been inside my apartment. But why would he have needed to?
“She’ll keep you there all night if you don’t stop.” Once the flowers were in water, I came back to stand beside him, watching how my cat was all over him.
I couldn’t even blame her, because look at him.
His short-sleeved shirt showed off his arms, forearm porn that should really be illegal.
Nic had muscles that I never in a million years would have suspected a tech guy would have.
Arms I’d tried hard to forget ever since that night in Napa, because I couldn’t be dwelling on it and keeping things professional.
And wishing for a repeat was not in the cards.
That was why I’d made it clear to him that we weren’t having sex as a part of this arrangement. Because if we had sex, I knew I’d get attached. And this wasn’t a forever marriage. We weren’t getting married for love.
So I couldn’t let that happen.
Nic chuckled. “Not the worst place I could be.”
I hoped he meant that.
He stood up and gave me another once-over. “Got everything you need?”
I grabbed my purse, a light sweater, and slipped my feet into my shoes. “Yeah.”
“Great.” He offered me his arm. “Shall we?”
Slipping mine through his, I couldn’t help but feel like a teenager about to go on her very first date. And sure, this wasn’t a date, but the way he was acting, the flowers… it felt like one.
Nic opened the car door for me, and I slid inside, immediately surrounded by the scent of his cologne. I took a deep breath in as he rounded the car, letting myself luxuriate in it for a brief moment before he got in the driver’s seat.
Normally, when we travelled for work, we took the company town car. Nic and I would sit in the backseat so we could get work done, which meant that I’d never had him drive me around before.
“This is nice,” I mumbled, appraising the car’s interior.
I didn’t know why I expected him to drive something flashy—like a sports car—but I was surprised to see him driving something practical.
“Thank you,” he answered, his free hand—the one not on the wheel—resting on the console between us.
I crossed my legs, trying to ignore how my knee was bouncing, fidgeting as I pictured all the ways tonight could go horridly wrong.
The closer we got to my family’s house, the more nervous I felt.
“Relax,” he murmured, like he could read my mind. “It’ll be fine.”
I looked out the window, because I couldn’t look at his face right now. “Are you sure about this?” I wrung my hands. “You can still back out.”
“Of course. I’d do anything for you, gorgeous.” His words were like a balm, one I needed to hear. “Besides, we signed a contract, didn’t we?”
His hand slid onto my knee, squeezing lightly, and I appreciated the warmth before he removed it.
I wanted to ask him to put it back.
But that was too forward for a fake fiancée, wasn’t it?
I winced. “I should probably apologize in advance for my family.”
“It’ll be fine,” he promised. “We’re a team, right?”
A team.
“Yeah.” I turned to look at him, seeing a warm smile on his face.
This was my Nicolas, I realized. Warm, reassuring, and caring.
The one who never asked me to get him coffee, but I did it anyway, because I liked taking care of him.
The one who made sure I ate lunch every day, often bringing my favorite sandwich or salad to my desk if we were too swamped to leave the office.
The one who kissed me in Napa like I was the air in his lungs. “Yeah, we are.”
He nodded as he pulled into the driveway, behind my brother’s car.
“We should have practiced,” I blurted out.
“Practiced?”
“Being a couple.” This time, I winced. “Forget it.” It was a stupid thought, anyway. I turned to open my car door, but Nic’s hand on my thigh stopped me. I froze, staring at the way it looked, his skin against mine.
“I’ll get it,” he murmured, expression serious. His eyes slid to my lips. “And if you want me to kiss you, Zofia, all you have to do is ask.” He winked, and then he was out of the car, leaving me feeling breathless.
What just happened?
Nicolas opened my door, holding out his hand.
I placed mine in his, stepping out of the car.
My parents house was large—a three story, including the daylight basement—and I knew just how hard they’d worked to give us a good life.
They’d put three kids through college, wanting us to take advantage of every opportunity.
He was still holding my hand as we stepped onto the sidewalk. “Before we go inside, I have something for you,” he murmured, reaching into his pocket with his free hand.
The one not holding mine.
I cocked my head to the side. “You do?”
He nodded, pulling out a black velvet box and flicking it open.
“Oh. Nic… You didn’t have to…” I trailed off as I took in the ring.
“We’re engaged, right?” He picked up my left hand, kissing my knuckles before slipping the ring onto my finger. “Perfect fit,” he murmured.
Fake engaged, I wanted to remind him, but I was speechless. The ring was beautiful. It was a yellow gold band with a large, oval stone, framed on either side with smaller stones. “I don’t know what to say.”
Nicolas grinned. “You don’t have to say anything, Gorgeous.”
“When did you have time do this?” I couldn’t stop staring at it. “It’s beautiful.”
“Just like my fiancée. Now, come on. Let’s go meet the family.”
Showtime, I thought to myself as I watched the light catch my brand new ring. I could do this.
What was one little lie, anyway? It wouldn’t hurt them. They’d be so happy I was finally getting married. They’d never need to know all we’d agreed to was a contract marriage with an expiration date.
I was contractually obligated to him—nothing more.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.