Chapter 6
Nash
I swipe my card and nod to the new security guard in training.
Arlo is my most recent hire, an overeager nineteen-year-old kid. Anson gave his stamp of approval, but all he’s done is complain about Arlo so far, even though he’s been doing his job. With the zealousness of a TSA agent, he’ll alert me immediately to anything slightly suspicious.
Ten in the morning means that everyone is already in their offices. The only ones going up and down the hallways, elevators, and stairwells are clients of the businesses. Funny how you can work in the same building and still not recognize the regulars around you.
And then my eyes land on her.
The woman I ran into yesterday. Magnolia.
She’s walking down the main stairs, carrying a cardboard box.
There’s a wide, ornamental staircase that leads to the second floor.
Immediately at the top of that staircase is the elevator.
The doors chime, and a man with white hair, using a cane, hurries out from between the sliding doors, walking briskly toward the staircase where Magnolia is.
This man looks familiar, so I know he must work here somewhere.
She hasn’t spotted me yet, and I have a sinking feeling that I didn’t put enough effort into contacting her.
She’s walking with the discouraged trudge of someone who doesn’t know what the future holds.
And anytime someone walks out of an office building with a box, it’s not a good sign.
The man from the elevator calls out to her, “Magnolia!”
She stops before she reaches the top step of that main staircase and smiles softly at him.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I tried to reason with her.”
I move closer to the bottom of the stairs so I can hear their conversation. I’m not even embarrassed about it.
“Isabel shouldn’t have fired you. You’ve been the best assistant she’s ever had.”
“I appreciate that, Mr. Richards. But I don’t think she’s in the mood to listen,” Magnolia replies with a sarcastic laugh.
“If you’d like, I can be your reference.” He leans heavily on the cane with both hands.
“If anyone will hire me after her blacklisting, I will gladly use you as my reference.”
Magnolia smiles at him, and his frown disappears.
“Good. Good. Because it wasn’t your fault. I’d be happy to help in any way that I can.”
He nods and turns back toward the elevator. Magnolia straightens her shoulders and starts the descent down the last flight of stairs. I stuff my hands in my pockets to keep from pulling her into a comforting hug.
She looks up in surprise when she reaches the bottom step.
“You! We have to stop meeting on staircases.”
Her eyes travel up and down my body, and I feel like she’s taking inventory. No suit jacket this time. Too uncomfortable. If I have to evacuate a building today, it’s not going to be in a coat. I’m wearing jeans with a Henley.
“I have something of yours,” she finally says.
“I tried to call you,” I explain.
“Yeah, about that. I never answer numbers I don’t know. And I just heard your voicemail this morning as I walked into the office.”
“I’m sorry. I have your papers in my car.”
She smiles sadly. “I think it might be too late for that.”
“Come on. It’s worth a try.” I attempt to console her. “I’ll explain things to your boss.”
“Honestly, I don’t think having the correct papers will save my job either. I was becoming too much of a threat. She was on a firing kick anyway.”
“I’ll walk you out then and at least return the papers to you.”
“Your boss won’t mind? Maintenance infrastructure?”
“Er, part of it is to make sure everyone’s belongings are returned to them.” I stare at her, summoning a smile and willing her to believe me.
She adjusts the box in her hold as she falls into step with me. I wonder if she knows who I am now or if she didn’t even know what she was looking at.
I want to trust her. But I don’t know if it’s simply because of her pretty face and fun personality, or if it’s something more.
“I think they might be in the bottom of this box. I brought them today in case I saw you. We must have gotten mixed up when we bumped into each other on the stairs.”
She doesn’t say another word about the papers. Either she hasn’t figured out who I am, or she doesn’t care.
“I’ll get it,” I tell her as we reach the security gate.
I pull back the bar and let her step through. She smiles at the security guard at the desk. Mr. New Guy gives her a curt nod.
“Did you park in the garage across the street?” she asks as we begin walking across the parking lot.
“No, I’m right here.”
Her eyes widen as I point to the BMW to our left. It’s not even my car. It’s Grandpa’s that I’ve been using, because driving my work truck around town means I can’t fit in any parking spaces.
“If I’d known being part of maintenance guaranteed a front-row parking place, I would have switched careers ages ago.”
I smile and unlock the doors.
She sets her box on top of my car and digs around until she pulls out a manila envelope. “I put them all in here to avoid losing anything. I didn’t want any more mix-ups.”
She hands it to me, and I wonder how many pages she’s read.
“Are you a forger?” she asks.
The question catches me off guard. “Yes.”
It seems like a better explanation than the truth.
“You’ll have to get rid of your honest face. No one will believe you’re any good if you admit to it right away.”
My phone rings, and after glancing at the caller ID, I know I can’t ignore it, not even for a minute.
“Hello?”
“It’s Mary.” The voice is somber, brittle.
I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst. It’s the call that I’ve known is coming.
“You need to get here right away. He’s probably not going to last until tonight.”
Thank goodness he’s still alive. Maybe I’ll be able to say goodbye.
But then Mary continues, “He wants you to bring your fiancée so that he can meet her.”
I try to form words as I rest a hand on the hood of the car. Magnolia’s staring at me, concern on her face.
“Nash”—the voice in my ear is loud—“did you hear me? He wants to meet your fiancée.”
“Sorry. I checked out there for a minute. What was that?”
“He wants to see your fiancée before he passes,” Mary says for a third time. “Is there any way she can make it here? In time? It’s his dying wish to know you’ll be happy.”
Now would not be a great time to tell him the truth—that I have no fiancée. That he’d been right and Jane’s happiness with me had been directly related to money.
“I’ll…” I clear my throat and blink my eyes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Good. Don’t forget your fiancée. I want him to have peace.”
My Grandpa’s last wish was to meet the fiancée that I no longer have. Someone that optimistically-romantic Nash had thought would love him no matter what. I’m not that na?ve anymore. But that still leaves me with a very big problem.
I don’t have a fiancée to introduce to him.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell Mary.
“See you soon.” She hangs up, but I can’t seem to pull the phone away from my ear—almost like if I keep holding it there then the news will be better.
It won’t. I slide my phone back into my pocket.
There’s no more time.
“He’s dying,” I tell Magnolia. Because I have to admit the truth out loud.
I thought I’d have more time. That he would be with me longer.
So much has been left unsaid.
“I’m so sorry,” she tells me as she hesitates briefly before resting a comforting hand on my arm.
She doesn’t even know what I’m talking about. For all she knows, my goldfish, Blackbeard, is dying. But her concern is exactly what I need to spur me into action.
“He wants to meet my fiancée,” I explain.
“That’s great.” She nods.
“I don’t have a fiancée.”
“That’s bad.”
I open my driver’s door, wondering what I’ll tell him.
“I’ll tell your boss that you have a family emergency. I don’t want you to lose your job,” she reassures me.
“That’s very sweet of you.”
If only I’d told Grandpa the truth sooner, he wouldn’t be waiting for the impossible.
“Do you have anywhere to be right now?” I ask.
“The unemployment office.”
“Great. You’re hired.”
“That soon?” She asks with raised eyebrows. “You didn’t even ask for a resume.”
“It’s temporary work,” I say as I hold out a hand to her. “Do you trust me?”
She stares at my outstretched hand, then looks back to my face. “Yes, as strange as that is.”
“Perfect. I’ll explain on the way. Get in. We don’t have any time to lose.”
I grab her box of stuff and stash it in the back seat. I extend my hand toward her again, and she takes it without hesitation. We hurry to the other side of the car, and I open the door for her.
“Watch your head,” I remind her as she sits down.
She pulls the door closed as I rush back to my side. The tires screech as I pull onto the road and follow the familiar route to my grandfather’s house.
“I understand you’ve had a terrible shock and you’re quite possibly not thinking of the logistics, but why am I in the car?”
“Have you ever been a fiancée before?”
“No, not recently at least.”
My lips turn up in a smile, despite the seriousness of my situation.
“I need a fiancée.”