Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
LIAM
T he thing about being a fake boyfriend is that it insinuates that the relationship is also fake. That’s the furthest thing from the truth with Andie and me. Our relationship is one of the most real relationships I have. And as far as relationships with women, it’s the deepest and most authentic.
There’s Nell, who is a total sweetheart and a woman whose friendship will always mean a great deal to me. Nell was the only woman since Andie who piqued my interest enough to even consider something beyond a casual relationship. When I think about it, however, I believe she and I would still have ended up as only friends even if we had allowed ourselves to explore the possibility of something more. When I see her and Larson together, I see how perfect they are together, although I may never admit that to Larson. I much prefer Larson believes he has to continually prove himself where Nell’s concerned.
As for my other female friends, they are more like casual acquaintances than intimate friends. During the past fifteen years, I’ve had a ton of fun, but dating has been casual and light-hearted. There’s never been a woman I’ve dated for more than a few weeks. By keeping things simple, no one developed expectations I couldn’t fulfill.
Then there’s Andie. She was my first kiss, first girlfriend, first and only love. Part of me has always known I could never truly commit myself to someone so long as Andie remained single. This was fine with me because, for the past decade, I’ve had zero desire to bind myself to one woman. Andie is the only woman I’ve ever been exclusive with, but somehow with her, exclusivity never felt like a sacrifice on my part. She has always had this way of making me feel completely free to be myself, while at the same time, wholly committed to her. It’s a dynamic I’ve never understood and could never adequately explain. It’s just how it always was with us.
During these past two weeks, it’s felt so naturally effortless to fall into the role of Andie’s fake boyfriend. What’s confusing is that nothing about being with Andie feels fake. It’s comfortable and natural, and there’s this inevitability about it that I can’t describe, and I’m not sure what to do with that.
The problem is the whole white picket fence thing. I’m not cut from that kind of cloth, and allowing myself to imagine otherwise would only lead to one or both of us getting hurt. And where would that leave our friendship? I’ll tell you where. It would leave us with a giant wedge lodged permanently between us–large enough to harm our relationship in such a way that we would never recover from it.
This is why I’ve been doing my best to enjoy our ruse while I can. While it’s safe. Grams is right. Andie and I are in each other’s safe zones. And though I’m loath to admit this to myself, I have to resign myself to the fact that keeping things with Andie neatly tucked into the zones of safety and comfort makes me what Grams would call a chickenhearted yellow-belly.
I’m a man who thrives on extreme sports. The greater the challenge, the greater the thrill, and the greater the adrenaline rush, the more fulfilling the outcome. I love living on the edge of danger. I seek it. Crave it.
So exactly when did I become a coward? When have I ever been satisfied with settling for safe?
I don’t have time to unpack that right now. It’s time to check on how things are going with the Landmark deal and tease Andie about our upcoming event. In my defense she does make it easy for me. I had Abby, my assistant, order Andie’s favorite iced coffee so I won’t be showing up to her office empty-handed. She should expect nothing less from her fake boyfriend.
I’m tempted to whistle a merry tune as I exit the elevator and meander my way down to Andie’s office. I told her last night I’d stop by her office this morning to discuss all things Landmark and help her with the transparencies. Still, I don’t want to appear too eager or like I’m in a hurry, so I’m careful to chat up as many employees on the floor as possible as I make my way to her office. Sidni’s on a phone call, so when she notices my approach she doesn’t bother announcing me, she simply signals for me to enter, so I do.
My steps falter and immediately come to a complete halt when I walk through the door because Andie is not alone this morning. She’s huddled over her desk, with her backside facing me. She has a nice backside, not sure if I’ve mentioned that before. But as lovely as that particular view is, it’s not the reason for my sudden halt. Standing next to her, so closely in fact that there’s no air space between them, is none other than my brother, Layton. And he’s resting his hand on Andie’s lower back as if it belongs there. Which it absolutely does not.
You heard right. Layton’s hand is touching Andie’s lower back. Not merely touching it, mind you, his fingers are spread apart and if I’m not mistaken, they are curled into the small of her back.
Something inside me burns and not in a pleasant way because I want to yank my brother’s arm out of its socket and maybe feed it to a pen of ravenous hogs. Too uncivilized? Perhaps. But civil thoughts have momentarily fled the building.
Whatever they’re looking at has them so engrossed that neither heard my approach. It’s only when I clear my throat they bother to look up. As if that wasn’t enough–the whole Layton’s hand on Andie’s back thing–they turn their heads at the same time so now their cheeks are inches away from sliding against each other. The infuriatingly smug grin on Layton’s face tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing, and I have to fight the urge to wipe that grin from his pretty face.
“Hey Liam,” Andie says lightly.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Layton says by way of welcome.
Unable to formulate words, let alone an entire sentence, I simply hold Andie’s drink out to her. But my gaze never leaves Layton’s face, which looks amused and like he’s far too pleased with himself.
“Ah, you brought me a drink?” Layton muses. “So kind of you.”
I’d respond with something insulting but since words seem to escape me, I do the next best thing. I growl.
Yep, I did. I growled.
Vice presidents of acquisitions should demonstrate greater self-control than that, Liam. My mother’s words ring in my ears as clearly as if she were standing behind me.
Layton’s amused expression changes to a full-on chuckle. He looks at Andie and says in a low voice, “Told you so.”
Before I can ask what he means by that, Andie pushes against Layton’s shoulder, forcing him to drop his hand from her back and lean away from her. Air re-enters my lungs. “Layton’s been helping me line up these transparencies so we can compare the legal descriptions I told you about. ”
“Since when is Layton an expert in legal descriptions?” I ask a little too brusquely.
“I’m not, nor do I claim to be,” Layton replies with a Cheshire grin. “But Andie needed an extra set of hands, and well, we all know I’m good with my hands.”
So am I, Layton. And right now, my hands would like to slam your head into Andie’s desk, or maybe dump Andie’s drink over your annoyingly handsome face. Better yet, why not do both?
Before I can act on either impulse, Andie straightens, walks over to where I’m standing, and reaches for the drink I’m holding a bit too tightly.
She raises her eyebrow and asks, “Is this for me?”
Whether she meant to or not, she’s placed herself between Layton and me, cutting off my line of sight. I gather my wits and manage a small smile. “Yeah. Thought you might need a caffeine lift.”
Andie smiles and one by one begins prying my clenched fingers away from the to-go cup. I relax and allow her to take the drink from me.
“I’m sure Liam can lend you a hand with the rest of this,” Layton says. “Let me know what you discover, okay?”
“Thanks, Layton,” Andie says with a grateful smile.
As soon as Layton is far enough away, Andie closes the door to her office and turns to face me. “You mind explaining what all that was about?”
“All what?” I feign innocence.
“You and Layton. Liam, you literally growled at him! Did the two of you have a fight or something?”
“No. But the day is young, so there’s still plenty of time.”
Andie sips her drink and closes her eyes as she swallows. “Mmm, Thank you for this, by the way.”
I give her a curt nod.
“What is with you this morning?” she asks, her voice demanding .
Shaking my head, I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing.”
“It must be something. I don’t remember the last time I saw you like this.” Her eyes dart to the side and then back to me. “Oh, actually, I do remember. It was at the benefit two weeks ago when Derek said what he…” Her eyes widen into round saucers. “Ohhh.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, it’s nothing,” I say, brushing away her comment.
“Layton isn’t Derek, Liam.”
I shake my head. “I know. It’s not that. It’s just that his hand was all over your back, and it rubbed me the wrong way.”
“Obviously,” Andie says with a soft smile. “Any fake boyfriend would misread the situation, right?”
I nod, not paying attention to what I’m agreeing with. I’m just glad Layton’s gone.
“So, besides this,” she holds up her cup, “what brings you by this morning?”
I take a deep breath and release it with a long sigh, the oxygen doing its job to clear away any lingering negative thoughts about Layton. Almost.
“I was thinking you and I might drive up to the properties you’ve been researching. I’ll bring my surveyor’s tape and we can walk off the legal descriptions. See first hand what encroachments or discrepancies we might have to deal with when the official inspections are completed.”
Andie raises her brows and grins. “Really? You’re willing to do that with me?”
I frown. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
She shrugs. “I just know you’ve got a lot going on right now. Are you sure you have the time?”
“I made time,” I say. “Besides, there’s something out there I want to show you.”
“My understanding is the parcels are undeveloped. ”
“They are. What I want to show you is on an adjacent lot.”
“I’ve been hoping to drive out to the property and walk it myself.”
I nod. “I figured as much. And I’d prefer you not go out there alone. Do you have a decent pair of shoes handy?”
“I always keep a change of clothes and a pair of shoes in my trunk,” she says with a grin.
“Right next to your bag of emergency protein bars, water, and radio?”
“How’d you know?” she asks.
I flick her chin with my finger. “Lucky guess.”
The drive to the proposed development takes about 30 minutes, barring any traffic or weather-related issues. The property is located in the rolling foothills near the edge of the city limits. Only one of the parcels lies within the city limits, the other two are under county jurisdiction. Before construction can begin, the city will push to extend its borders to incorporate all three pieces of land. This makes sense since the land will be subdivided to accommodate tract and spec homes. The tract homes will be on the pricey side, which is one reason Andie’s marketing analysis needs to be thorough. Spec homes could range from median prices into the millions, depending on the location of the lots.
Andie’s concerns about the legal descriptions go beyond her normal sphere of responsibility, but she’s looking at the whole picture and doesn’t want to make her recommendation until she’s had a chance to anticipate all potential problems. It’s one of the many reasons she’s so valuable to our company.
We drive in comfortable silence. Andie seems content to gaze at the scenery from the passenger side window, and I’m content to let her. The problem with me and silence, however, is my mind tends to conjure up all kinds of thoughts and questions and doubts and lists of things to do and, well, let’s just say I have a very noisy mind, which is why most of the time I prefer conversation to quiet.
After what feels like an hour–which is really only ten minutes–I can’t take the silence any longer.
“What did Layton mean back there?” The question leaps from my mouth before I have the chance to run it through my admittedly non-existent filter.
“Wow, you lasted ten whole minutes! I think that’s a new record for you.” Andie turns away from the window and grins at me.
Ignoring her teasing jab, I ask my question again. “Why did Layton say, ‘Told you so,’ when I came into your office?”
Andie shrugs her shoulders. “He said you wouldn’t like it if you saw him standing so close to his girlfriend. I reminded him that I’m only your fake girlfriend, but he just laughed it off and told me to see for myself.”
I shake my head. “He’s such a jerk sometimes.”
“Was he right, though? Because if looks could kill, Layton Graham would be a pillar of salt right now.”
I don’t even try to cover my laugh. “I like that image. And to answer your question, no. I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t him standing so close that bothered me, it was him handling you.”
“I’m sorry,” she barks out a sarcastic laugh. “Handling me? Really, Liam?”
Keeping my eyes focused on the road in front of me, I attempt nonchalance. “You know his reputation, Andie.”
“What? You don’t think I can handle someone like Layton?” She sounds defensive and a little irritated, which is the opposite of what I was aiming for.
“That’s not what I meant,” I say as I cast a side glance in her direction. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”
“But you did. And it’s too late to take it back now. ”
Releasing a muffled sigh, I say, “I’m sorry. It just bothered me to see Layton with his hands on you.”
“One hand, Liam.”
“It could have been a finger and it still would have bothered me. I can’t explain why. It just did.”
Andie shakes her head. “Aren’t you the one who told me decent men don’t date their brothers’ exes?”
Scrubbing a hand down my face, I nod. “I did say that.”
“So, there was no reason for you to be jealous, right?”
“I wasn’t jealous.” I insist emphatically.
Andie raises her brows. “Whatever you say.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” I repeat in a low voice.
Oh, man! I was so jealous.
“Okay,” she says, her tone warning me to drop the subject, so I do.
“Were the transparencies helpful?” I ask.
“I think they will be,” Andie nods. “I mean, we barely began looking at the overlays, but already I can tell the legal descriptions don’t line up exactly–I mean, they’re close, so maybe it’s just me looking for flaws. I have to remind myself this isn’t my specialty. It’s only a hunch, though, so I probably should have ordered the inspections and let it go at that.”
“The fact that you haven’t let it go speaks volumes about what kind of employee you are. Which begs the question, why go to all the effort to follow a hunch in an area that’s not your expertise? There aren’t many in our business who are willing to do that.”
Andie tucks her leg beneath her and adjusts in her seat so she’s facing me. “When your mom hired me, she told me a story about two men who were hired to work for a Railroad company laying track for $1.75 an hour. Twenty years later, the first man, Dave Anderson, was still laying track. The second man, Jim Murphy, was the president of the company. Both employees possessed similar skills when they began working and both were trustworthy and loyal. When Dave Anderson was asked what happened, and why the difference in their two career paths, he said, ‘Twenty years ago, Jim Murphy went to work for the railroad. I went to work for $1.75 an hour.’ That story has always stayed with me. I’d like to think I’m an employee who’s more like Jim Murphy than Dave Anderson.”
I recognize the story Andie shared because my grandfather used to share it with every new employee. That Andie took the message to heart speaks volumes as to why she’s so valuable to our company and awesome at her job. I have no doubts she’ll be the senior director of marketing soon, and vice president of marketing and public relations in a couple of years.
“You know, I think that story is in one of the many Zig Ziglar’s books my grandpa used to keep in his office. He met him a couple of times, and for as long as I can remember, Grandpa kept a photo on his desk of him standing next to Zig after one of his sales conferences. He’d be proud as a peacock to know you remember the railroad story and that it has resonated so strongly with you.”
“Thank you for saying that. Your grandpa was a special man. He died too young for someone with such a big personality.” Andie chuckles softly. “I didn’t have the chance to get to know him very well, but there are times when you remind me of him.”
My eyes widen slightly at the admission, and something warm spreads through my chest. “Grams told me the same thing the other day. It’s definitely something I consider a compliment, although I don’t think he’d be pleased with the comparison.”
“Oh, I disagree. Like I said, I didn’t know him well, but I do know you well. You’re an incredible man, Liam.”
Heat burns along my ears and cheeks. “Careful, Andie. Or I might think you like me for real.”
Andie swats at my arm. “Of course I do. Why else would I be willing to tolerate all your Liamisms?”
My phone vibrates in its holder and I reach over to the dashboard to see that I’m receiving a text from Larson. I free my phone from the holder and hand it to Andie. “Would you read Larson’s message to me? I didn’t connect the Bluetooth before we started driving.”
Andie opens the text thread. She doesn’t need to ask me for the code to unlock my screen because she knows it already.
“He says, Nell’s okay, but the doctor has put her on bed rest for the rest of her pregnancy. Says he needs to pull out of the river run charity event. He doesn’t feel comfortable leaving Nell alone for that long. He also says Bree offered to stay with her so he could participate, but he doesn’t like the possibility of being on the water if something goes down with the babies.”
I nod my understanding. I’m a little peeved at myself for not already considering how this might impact Max or Larson’s ability to participate. “Would you send him back a message for me?”
“Already on it,” Andie says.
“Why am I not surprised?”
“Shh,” she says as she rapidly fires off a response to Larson. “Okay, done.”
“Did you respond as you or me?”
“I said, ‘Hey Larson, it’s Andie. Liam’s driving. So happy to hear Nell’s doing well. Liam totally understands about the river event and says it’s no problem. Just take care of his girls.’ To which Larson wrote back something snarky, which I will not repeat, but you can read for yourself when you’re no longer driving. But it’s to the tune of Nell and the twins being his girls, not yours.”
I can’t help my laugh. “That’s perfect. I never like to miss an opportunity to mess with Larson.”
“You’re so mean,” Andie teases.
“Technically,” I shake my index finger at her. “You’re the mean one since you wrote the text.”
Andie fixes a menacing gaze on me, but its effects are immediately nullified when she fails to hide her cheeky grin. “Right. Let’s go with that.”
I glance between Andie and the road a few times, realizing she’s still typing. “What are you doing?”
“I’m, or rather you’re texting Max.”
“Because?” I draw out the word.
“Because Maizee’s due date is close to the day of the rafting race. Max might not have considered the possibility of her going into labor while he’s on the water.”
“Ah. Good call.”
“Of course it is.”
When too much time has passed in silence, I begin drumming my fingers on the steering wheel. “Hmm. I suppose Alex and I will have to pull out of the charity run.”
“Don’t you know anyone who can take Larson and Max’s place on the raft?”
I shrug. “I could probably find someone to take Max’s place, but Larson? He’s hard to replace.”
“Couldn’t you take Larson’s place as lead and find someone to take your spot?”
I consider this for a moment. Andie’s suggestion has merit, but even if I could find someone to take my spot on the raft, I’d still need to find someone to cover Max’s position. I glance over at Andie and she immediately starts shaking her head.
“Oh no, you don’t. Get that look off your face right now!”
“You could take Max’s place on the raft, Andie.”
“Don’t even think about it, Liam. I haven’t been on a raft in years.”
“It’s just like riding a bicycle.”
Andie is still shaking her head. “I seriously doubt that.”
“No, really.” I say, suddenly hopeful. “We have a couple more practice runs coming up. That’s all you’d need. You can do this. Plus, you’d be helping out your favorite boyfriend.”
“Favorite fake boyfriend. ”
“Pleeeease?” I beg.
“Liiiiaaaammmm!” she may be whining, but I already know she’s going to say yes. She’ll argue her point, but in the end, she’ll cave because she’s my friend and she hates to let anyone down.
“Why not ask Layton?” Andie suggests. “He’s athletic, isn’t he? I mean he seems like he would be.”
I suppress an irritated groan. I don’t know what it is about Andie mentioning Layton, but it rubs me the wrong way and irritates me to no end. “I doubt he’d be willing to help.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to ask him, though, would it?”
In case you’re wondering, yes, Layton is athletic, and he’s done a lot of river rafting, though I don’t recall him ever competing. It’s actually a great idea, and I’m miffed I didn’t think of it myself. But now that Andie will be there–because you and I both know she’s going to say yes–I’d rather not invite Layton to join us. Childish? Maybe. Probably. Okay, definitely.
“All right, I’ll ask him. But just so you know, even if he says yes, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. We’ll still need a fourth person.” Andie begins tapping away on my phone again. “What now?”
“I found Layton in your contacts, so I’m reaching out about the charity run.”
“Did you tell him it was you texting him?”
“I did. He says he’ll do it, but it’s going to cost you.”
“You as in you or you as in me ?”
“Does it matter?”
I roll my eyes. “What does my annoying brother want?”
“Um, he says he’ll let you know.”
“Perfect.”
“Oh, hey,” Andie points at something in the distance. “I think that’s the beginning of the property.”
By this time, we’ve climbed high enough to have a gorgeous view of the valley. The property is mostly bright green rolling hills, but if we were to drive a bit further, we would encounter patches of snow. We’ve already passed a few small waterfalls where the spring run-off winds its way down to the river. It’s a stunning sight and would be a pristine place to build an elite PGA-level golf course.
“There are markers already staked that delineate the property corners, so hopefully, it won’t be too difficult to follow the legal description on foot.”
I shift the jeep into park and cut the engine. Andie and I grab our backpacks from the backseat and meet each other at the back of the vehicle. I’m immediately struck with the fresh scent of pinion and sage and possibly juniper. It’s the fresh scent of the outdoors, untainted by the inevitable impact of progress. The wind whips around us, raising goose flesh on Andie’s arms.
“Did you bring a sweatshirt or a jacket?” I ask. “The temperature up here feels a lot cooler than it did in the city.”
“I have a down jacket rolled up in my backpack. I wasn’t sure I’d need it, but if this wind doesn’t die down soon, I’ll be glad I brought it.”
“Okay, let’s get moving,” I say, pulling out my surveyor’s tape and my tablet. “First thing we need to do is find our baseline marker.”
Andie and I begin walking the property, looking for the post that marks the point of origin on the legal description. Our steps crunch loudly as we hike our way through the loose rock and gravel. These particular parcels of land are covered in sage brush, junipers, weeds, and volcanic rock, with a sparsely scattered mix of pines and fir trees. I suspect that’s part of the reason Landmark is keen to turn it into a golf resort community.
It takes about ten minutes of searching before Andie calls to me. A pole has been hammered into the ground, its top one-third painted red. From there, Andie begins calling out bearings and distances, and I use my surveyor app to confirm we’re following the property boundary line.
Thank heavens for technology! I can’t imagine doing all this manually; it would take forever.
The legal descriptions of the parcels are an unusual blend of metes and bounds and bearings and distances. Again, my Surveyor app is a godsend. I also brought painted lengths of PVC pipes to shove into the ground and mark the boundaries. If there are noticeable discrepancies, we’ll need to hire a surveyor to make sure the property lines are accurately marked.
The temperature continues to drop and instead of abating, the wind picks up its speed and power. Andie doesn’t appear to notice, or if she does, she seems unconcerned. But this is Andie in work mode–focused and determined to complete the task at hand.
Even when raindrops begin to sprinkle down on us, Andie is undeterred. She pulls out her jacket–one of those puffer-style coats that you can roll into a tight ball. She shrugs on the coat, raises the hood, and ties it snugly beneath her chin. I didn’t bring a jacket, but I did manage to fit a pull-over hoodie in my backpack.
Andie marches to the next point in the legal description and waits for me to verify the coordinates of her spot from the previous one. We’re standing on the side of a gently sloping hill, too steep for a golf course, so I’m already mentally calculating costs for leveling out enough sections of the property for an 18-hole course.
All of a sudden, Andie screams my name. “Liam! Look out!”
I look up just in time to see an avalanche of mud sliding down the hill and toward me. I don’t have time to outrun it before it sweeps me into its path. I know enough to know not to run downhill, and I also know if I’m swept into the mud’s path, the best thing I can do is roll into a ball and protect my head from rocks and debris.
I’m really not in the mood to be buried alive in a wall of mud today, so I take off, running in a diagonal as fast as I can hoping to reach the edge of the slide before I’m carried away in its path. Fortunately, the terrain in front of me slopes upward so I dig in, and force the muscles in my legs to power through the burn and keep climbing. I spot a tree in my path and just as I leap forward to wrap my arms around the trunk, the ground beneath me gives way, and I lose my footing.