Fake Engaged to the Enemy

1. George

Chapter one

George

It's almost impossible to reconcile how someone who despises me so fiercely could look so breathtakingly beautiful.

I pull slowly to the side of the road, just behind the sporty little car with its hazard lights on. The woman standing next to the car starts toward me, a grateful smile on her face.

The moment she recognizes me, she stops dead.

And there it is, the glare I’ve come to expect every time we cross paths.

My head spins at the sight of her. Catherine Hart. I see her as she is and as she was all at once. The baby-faced girl Lynn introduced me to when I was five.

The gangly, angry teen who told me I had no heart.

Now to the elegant, beautiful woman in a sleek power suit staring at me as though I’m her worst nightmare come true.

I get out of my truck. Unconsciously, I smooth my hair. I feel like an awkward teenager again.

“Hey, Catherine,” I greet as I head toward her.

When was the last time we saw each other? It has to be last Christmas. That’s the only time she comes to Sandburrow these days.

And every time I see her, she seems to have grown even more beautiful. Even the angel in my dreams can’t compare to real life.

She’s tall and statuesque, her cherubic face haloed by short, curly hair. Brown eyes survey me coolly. Right now, her mouth is set in an unhappy line, but I still remember the dimples that frame her face when she smiles.

“George,” she says with a slight nod. “I… my car broke down.”

“Mind if I take a look?” I gesture toward the car.

Catherine twitches, then nods stiffly. “Go ahead. I called Tony’s Tow but I only got the answering machine.”

“Tony’s always out fishing at this time of day,” I say as I head for the car.

Catherine opens the hood and I lean over, taking a look at the engine. I’m not a mechanic, but I know my way around simple fixes. Everything looks normal to me, but when Catherine turns the key, the engine refuses to catch.

“You’re going to have to take it into the shop, I’m afraid.” I close the hood and sigh.

I don’t look at Catherine. Seeing her always elicits a swirl of emotions that I’m not sure how to take.

There’s always this initial burst of happiness at seeing her. As though my heart forgets every time that we’re not friends anymore.

It follows with a swooping, low crash. The confusion and guilt from the moment when our friendship was utterly severed.

And of course, the anger from not understanding why she said the things she did.

“How long does Tony usually spend fishing?” Catherine asks, her expression guarded.

“Lately? Around noon. He’s the only tow truck in Sandburrow, so he gets away with it,” I say, shrugging. “You headed to Lynn’s place?”

Catherine gives me a dirty look. “Nah, I just decided to swing through this place without seeing my grandmother.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “I was going to offer you a ride since I’m headed there myself, but if you’re going to be that aggressive, I’ll just send her back for you and make you wait.”

“Oh, now who’s being aggressive?” Catherine’s eyes flash, but she slumps against the side of the car. “I wasn’t being aggressive , I was being sarcastic .”

“Sure sounded like the same thing to me,” I answer dryly.

I knew she was coming back to Sandburrow; Lynn told me when Catherine first called her. But I had hoped that I wouldn’t spend much time around her for this exact reason.

I can’t recall the last time we talked without it turning snarky.

Catherine pinches her mouth. Even pissed off, she’s beautiful. “Then go on ahead. I’ll just walk.”

Lynn would give me hell if I made Catherine walk all the way to her house. Especially in those shoes. They were flats, but the dressy kind that weren’t made for walking.

I drop my arms to my sides. “Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

She gives me a suspicious look. “I suppose I shouldn’t have been sarcastic.”

We eye each other for a moment, then Catherine nods.

“If you’re offering, I would like a ride to Grandma’s place. I’m going to be staying with her for a while. And if she ever found out that I refused a ride from George Callahan of all people…” Catherine shakes her head.

I have to laugh. “Oh, she’ll blame me. But my death will be on your hands.”

She tries to fight it, but those dimples flash with a smile.

The tension eases slightly between us.

“I’ll just grab my suitcase,” Catherine says, popping the trunk of the car.

I get it before she can. “Anything else?”

Catherine eyes the suitcase. “Um, I know that this is one of those ‘small-town men who have to do everything politeness things,’ but I’d rather you not touch my stuff.”

Her tone is wary, as though she’s worried I’ll take it the wrong way.

I put the suitcase down. “Just so you know, Lynn will get after us both if I don’t carry it into the house for you.”

Catherine carries her suitcase to the truck and secures it in the back. “I’ll deal with Grandma about that. I just don’t like people touching my things. It’s not personal.”

I shrug it off. It’s her prerogative.

She makes sure her car is locked before getting into the truck. The tension comes back in full force. Her hands twist in her lap as we drive.

The road to Lynn Hart’s beach house is one of the prettiest in Sandburrow.

We’re too far north for palm trees, but the birches cast shade over the golden-yellow beach. Stones, shells, and driftwood litter the space between sea and land.

“How are you doing?” I ask Catherine, trying to fill the silence.

Her shoulders tense. “Is that rhetorical or has the news not reached Sandburrow?”

I keep my eyes facing straight forward. “I wasn’t going to ask about that.”

“It’s not true. I’m not dating Crimson,” Catherine says emphatically.

The grim expression on her face speaks to something far worse.

What can I say to that? The rumors are certainly exploding everywhere. Few people in the world had even heard of Catherine Hart until this scandal came out.

Now her name is trending everywhere you look. It’s not right.

“You do work as a social media manager for him, right?” I ask cautiously.

Crimson is one of the highest-earning pop stars of our generation. I’ve never enjoyed his music. I prefer country music myself. The old stuff. Kenny Rodgers. Patsy Cline.

“Just because I work for him doesn’t mean I do anything besides manage his social media accounts,” Catherine snaps.

“Cat, I’d never believe that you would get involved with a client,” I say gently.

Her shoulders hitch forward, and she folds her arms.

I’m not sure if she’s just feeling defensive or if she doesn’t believe me.

How did we end up here, anyway? We were the best of friends when we were kids. Whenever we were out, we were together.

Sure, things changed through middle school and especially once we were in high school. I wish they hadn’t. I miss my best friend.

“Hey, if you were thinking about visiting the tidal pools, just be aware that the old bridge over the creek got washed out,” I blurt.

We had so much fun in those tidal pools as kids.

We’d carefully collect the creatures left on the sand and return them to one body of water or another.

Now as an adult, I understand that the animals didn’t need our help. Sometimes it’s best to just leave them. Sometimes, when we try to help, we just end up doing more damage.

“When did it wash out?” Catherine asks, sounding relieved that we have something to discuss other than the rumors about her.

“Last month, when that big storm hit us. It did a number on Lynn’s house, too. That’s why I’m headed out there,” I add. “I’ve been working on fixing it up.”

Catherine’s brow pinches together. “For a month?”

I wince at the semi-accusing tone she uses.

“I originally was going to have my whole crew help, but Lynn refused to let me do that without paying me,” I explain. “And since she doesn’t get much of a pension, I decided I’d just do it all myself when I’m not otherwise working.”

Catherine lets out a ragged sigh. “I told her that I’d pay if she needed me to and she kept insisting that she had it covered.”

“Lynn Hart is the most stubborn woman I know,” I say. “Although now that you’re here, maybe we can trick her. You can take her into town for a few hours, and I’ll bring my crew out and get things finished up and she’ll never know that it was more than just me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Catherine gasps. “I can’t lie to my grandmother! She’ll find out and then do you know what will happen?”

I snicker. “You’re right. Nobody would ever find our bodies.”

Catherine nods gravely. “So that certainly is not an option here, Mr. Callahan. Nope, we’ll just have to find some other way. Maybe we could find a beau to distract her… is there anyone in Sandburrow she’s sweet on?”

“If there is, she keeps it close to the vest,” I say with a shrug. “It might be better to try to keep things in the status quo.”

I’ve been enjoying this teasing with Catherine so much that it surprises me when her expression grows closed again. She turns her face away, staring at the landscape as it zips by. The lightness that was there moments ago disappears so quickly it leaves me uncertain what happened.

What made the atmosphere shift so dramatically?

“That will be best,” she says to the window. “But… but thank you for helping out my grandma with this. It can’t be easy, working on your weekends and free time. I will pay you, if you need me to.”

“I’m not taking your money. I’m happy to do this for Lynn.”

Catherine nods. “I won’t argue with you then. But thank you. For her sake.”

“Cat?”

Her shoulders tense.

“It’s going to be okay, you know. Whatever fallout you feel is insurmountable right now. You did the right thing by taking some time away. And Lynn is thrilled to have you, too. She’s been talking about nothing else since you called.”

“Does she know?” Catherine asks, her voice low. The worry in her tone is obvious.

I consider my words carefully. “She hasn’t mentioned anything about this scandal of yours. And I haven’t asked.”

“I thought you’d be eager to bear witness to my downfall.”

Her words catch me off guard. “Why? Especially when it’s something I know you wouldn’t do?”

Catherine shrugs once. It’s clear she’s done talking.

Is this just about the rumors circulating about her and Crimson or is there something more? I frown at her while keeping an eye on the road.

This isn’t like the Catherine Hart I know.

But then, it has been years. She went through college, then university. She became a well-known social media manager for several famous people.

I, on the other hand, stayed in Sandburrow. I didn’t get any further education, other than a few online courses on business management. I read a lot, but it’s not the same thing.

The last time we spent more than half an hour together was way back in high school.

“We got twenty minutes yet to Lynn’s place,” I say, turning my full attention to the road now. “I was just starting a new audiobook. Mind if I put it on?”

Anything to fill the silence. She doesn’t want to speak anymore, that’s fine, but I can’t just keep sitting here with only the sound of the engine filling the cab.

Catherine adjusts her seatbelt and glances at me. “I’m sorry. I’m being very rude.”

I shrug. “It’s not like I’m your best friend.”

“What book are you starting?”

“It’s a collection of Robert Frost’s poetry.” I glance at her from the corner of my eye. The surprise on her expression rankles me, but I put it aside. I put on the audiobook, trusting she’ll say something if she doesn’t want it.

She stays quiet. Which again, isn’t like her.

What’s going on in her head? And is it just the rumors that have brought her back to Sandburrow?

More selfishly… is there a chance that she’ll stop hating me this time?