5. Rochelle
5
ROCHELLE
I blow out a breath as I turn the key in my lock, ready to sink into my couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s and watch a rerun of Friends . Work was fine, except for the old man who wanted me to play ragtime music for the last two hours of my shift.
And except for the slightly younger man who keeps trying to give me money like I’m some kind of mercenary, even after I said no. What the fuck?
I slip inside and hang up my handbag. I should get dinner, but I only want that pint of Ben and Jerry’s. After today, I think I’m entitled.
I get just a little past the opening credits when the doorbell rings. I pause the TV and get up. It must be the kids.
I go to unlock the door while wiping my hands on the faded kitchen towel.
“Sorry to barge in on you like this.”
It’s not either of the two adorable children who I love like my own. It’s a six-foot-one hottie, one who apparently can’t take the hint.
“What are you doing here, Frederick? How did you even get in?”
“Someone was coming in at the same time. It’s a big building.”
I should slam the door in his face, but something about him stops me. Determination mixed with longing and the fact that he never takes his eyes off mine.
“I just wanted to talk a little more, and if you want me to go after that, I’ll be out of your hair. I didn’t get to finish the conversation today.”
I exhale, pushing a stray hair out of my face. “Okay. Five minutes. But boy, don’t ever scare me like that again. It’s dangerous to sneak up on people.”
“Noted. Can I sit down at least?” He holds his hands up and slowly approaches my sofa, as though I’m going to take the handbag off the hook and beat him with it.
“Fine. But make it quick, Frederick.”
“So, like I said the other day, my mother and my uncle are a giant pain in my ass, and they want to control me however they can. Sort of like with you and your stepdad.”
“Okay. I get it. But I don’t know what it has to do with me.”
“I’m getting there. They’ve been pushing me into dates with strangers, trying to get me to settle down with someone. All I want is to be left alone, to make my own choices in life. I just need a way to get them to back off and let me live the way I decide. They keep trying to set me up with these random women, and I’m tired of being paraded around like New York Magazine’s most eligible bachelor, holding this inheritance I don’t care about over my head.”
He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his straw-colored hair. “This might sound crazy, but, if I had a fake fiancée, I think it would get them to back off. Someone who I choose, not them. And we’d break up, of course, but then maybe they’d lay off. That’s where you come in. And I could help you, too. Especially with what you were saying with your stepdad.”
My eyes widen, and I can barely speak. “You want me to be your fake wife? You have to be kidding me. That is without a doubt the most ludicrous solution to a non-problem I’ve ever heard. Seriously? You can’t just buy people. I said no to your money, and you think me being bought as your bride would sweeten the deal? You’re certifiable.”
“I know it’s a huge ask,” Frederick says. “But you’re the only person I can trust to help me.”
A laugh escapes me. “The only person you can trust? You barely know me! You watched me play piano for a minute, and then I cleaned you up at the park after you got mugged.”
“Yeah, okay. But still. You’re a sweet girl, and I know you’re someone who doesn’t care about money. Most of the women I know would be insufferable, and I even toyed with the idea of hiring an actress. But you? You’re down-to-earth. You’re someone my mom would actually believe I’m with.”
I’m still reeling from the request, but at the same time, there’s something flattering about it. After a day of knowing this guy, he wants me to be his wife? He’s certainly gorgeous. And determined. I’ll give him that.
“I know it’s a long shot, coming here. But you made an impression on me. Is it really so crazy that I’d think of you for this task? Especially when I know I can help you with your family issues, too? It’s like symmetry.”
“How do I know you’re not just, like, a human trafficker?”
“Please. I can give you a full background check on me. All you’ll see is someone with way too perfect a credit score to be real. And you’re smart, so you could stay on top of it. You’re fun, so you’d be good company. You’re kind, obviously, since you took care of a complete stranger. You could have saved my life.”
“I wouldn’t go that far…”
“And you’re trustworthy since you won’t even accept a small token of gratitude from a stranger.”
When he puts it like that, I can see how he might think I’m the right candidate for his scheme. Unfortunately, Frederick is barking up the wrong tree. I’m not interested in getting involved in a situation like this.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth to end this entire conversation, the closet suddenly opens and two small bodies come tumbling out.
Frederick and I both freeze, turning our heads slowly to see identical guilty expressions on Sigourney and Walken’s faces.
“We didn’t mean to overhear!” Sigourney says, standing up and helping her brother to his feet. “We came in to use the office to do our homework! We were gonna surprise you, Rochelle! But then…”
‘The office’ is my former walk-in linen closet, now taken over by the kids when they need somewhere quiet to study. It has a light and two tiny chairs. I don’t usually mind, but I have to admit that I’m unprepared to see them in my living room right now, especially after this conversation.
“Well, it’s definitely a surprise.”
“Frederick, this is Walken and his sister Sigourney. They’re my neighbors, but I think of them more like my favorite nieces and nephews. They’re family to me.” I look at them, wanting to laugh and lecture at the same time. “I’m sorry they barged into this. They should be going home now. Right, guys?”
“We think you should help him!” Walken bursts out. “You’re a superhero! You helped him before, and you can help him now. And it sounds like he can help you, too! With money and stuff.”
I blink, staring at them. “I’m not some kind of hero.”
“I know. You’re a superhero! And besides, you saved him.”
“That guy Frederick says you saved him yesterday!” Sigourney puts her hands on her hips. “You’re definitely a hero, Miss Rochelle.”
“Guys, we’re not talking about this right now. This is a private conversation between me and Frederick.”
“But you taught us to help others,” Walken argues. “You said that we should always help people who are unfortunate!”
“Less fortunate, Walken.” I stifle a laugh. Frederick is certainly unfortunate, as far as additions to my life go. ‘Less fortunate,’ not quite.
“She did save me,” Frederick protests with a smile. “She saved me then, and she can help save me now. She’s such a good-hearted person she wouldn’t even accept a reward. But I want to help her because good deeds should be rewarded.”
My eyes roll before I can stop them. I can’t believe he’d use that line on the kids. “Good deeds are their own reward,” I argue back.
“You’re right. But if you help me, I can help you, too. I can help you focus just on your music and solving your own family conflict. Trust me, as a lawyer, I can assure you that you’re going to want a hand.”
“I already told you that I don’t need the money.” I frown. “I’m not a charity case. I do alright for myself.”
“You’re stubborn, I admire that. But sometimes accepting help when it’s offered is okay too.”
“I don’t need your help,” I tell him. Walken’s eyes get big, and he raises his hand, waving it wildly.
“Yes, you do, Miss Rochelle!” he shouts. “How else are you going to do it?”