Chapter 4
A Needle in the World’s Most Gigantic Haystack…
Vivian
FAKE HUSBAND CHECKLIST
MUST HAVES:
Good at acting
Willing (or what Paige calls ‘desperate’)
Little to no online presence (will create holes in previously told stories about him)
Single
Must have been single for at least six months prior to my original announcement of Mister X so as to avoid looking like a home-wrecker
From New York or must be able to move to NY for foreseeable future
NICE TO HAVES:
Handsome
Charming
Rich
Good sense of humor
Doesn’t take himself too seriously
Works out and eats healthy
Loves watching reality TV and all things Jane Austen
We got hungry while we were making the list, so now we’re sitting at the beach bar eating burgers and fries.
It’s early evening and the sun is setting.
We should be relaxing and enjoying our last night together.
Instead, we’re both stress-eating while we work on what very well may be an impossible problem.
The tables are filled with happy couples and families, and a hot guy with dark hair is seating himself at a table behind Paige.
Paige points to him with her thumb. “What about him?”
I crane my neck so I can see around her, then shake my head. “Oh yeah, like that’s going to happen. The right guy will simply appear at the exact moment I need him.”
“Hey, it happened for me,” Paige says with a shrug.
She’s referring to how she met Mac literally ten seconds after she’d given up all hope of finding someone to fly her to her sister’s wedding.
They never made it because a huge storm hit and they crash landed on a deserted island, but he was the right man and he did show up at exactly the right time.
“Yeah, just because it happened for you doesn’t mean it’s not extremely rare—like hitting the lotto rare.”
“But it could happen. Strike up a conversation with him. If he’s not the guy, at least we’ll have ruled someone out.”
“I think the process of elimination might be a tad bit time-consuming, considering there are four billion men on this planet.” Shaking my head, I say, “He’s way too hot for this job.
He’s also eating a salad at a burger bar, which, at best, means we’re totally incompatible, and at worst, means he’s a psychopath. ”
“It definitely doesn’t mean he’s a psycho … well, probably, but let’s say he’s not and you’re just incompatible, how much does compatibility even matter in this case? After all, you are desperate.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I know it doesn’t matter much, but wouldn’t it be nice if we didn’t hate each other? Not that I would hate someone just because they’re eating a salad, but still … it’s a burger bar.”
Dipping a fry into some ketchup, I stare at the list we’ve drawn up. I read it out loud, then say, “Okay, do you know anyone at all who fits our must-haves?”
“No. You?”
“No.”
I pop the fry in my mouth and chew. “Think hard. Maybe Mac has a friend or a cousin?”
“Nope. He doesn’t. His business partner is already married and his friend group consists of a bunch of boomers that he plays poker with.
” She tilts her head. “Although, one of them did get divorced last year. Do you think your followers would be on board for seeing you get hitched to an eighty-three-year-old former dentist? He has very good teeth. He does wear his pants a little high, but I bet you could fix that.”
I give her a deadpan expression until she holds up both hands. “Okay, so no to Murray. That’s two down.”
“Two?”
“Murray and psycho salad guy.”
“Only three billion, nine-hundred ninety-nine-thousand, nine-hundred-ninety-eight to go.” Letting out a sigh, I say, “Okay, so you don’t know anyone and neither do I.
But there’s got to be one man out there who wants to live in a very nice apartment in New York and is willing to marry me temporarily.
We just have to find him without anyone else finding out that we’re looking. ”
“Right, right,” Paige says, nodding while she wipes her mouth. “That’s the tricky part. It’s not like we can put an ad out.”
“Maybe on the dark web?” I suggest.
We both immediately shake our heads at the idea. “Bad idea,” I say.
“I wouldn’t even know how to get on the dark web, would you?”
“Not a clue.” I glance over Paige’s shoulder, only to see psycho salad guy staring at me, only he doesn’t look like a psycho. He looks … nice. My face immediately turns red, and I lean in and whisper, “Oh my God, this is so humiliating. I think salad guy has been listening to us.”
Paige starts to turn, but I hiss, “Nooo,” from deep in my chest.
She freezes and whispers, “How can you tell?”
“He keeps smirking at me.”
“Maybe he thinks you’re attractive.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not that sort of smirk.”
“What kind of smirk is it?”
“It’s the amused kind,” he says, causing us both to jump because somehow he slipped out of his chair and is now standing next to our table without us noticing. “May I join you? I’ve finished eating my offensive salad.”
Perfect. He heard everything. My face and neck heat up. We both nod.
He pulls out a chair and plunks his long, lean body into it. “I’m Dominic. I’m single, handsome, obviously, and charming. I’m also gay. I’m eating a salad because I go on stage in under an hour and I don’t like to have a heavy meal before I perform, and not because I’m some sort of psycho.”
Paige and I exchange guilty expressions.
“Now, I couldn’t help but overhear your dilemma.
Well, I could, but I love eavesdropping.
It’s my toxic trait. And I may, in fact, be the answer to your prayers.
” He puts his index finger on my list and spins it toward him.
“Acting skills—check. Rich—not yet. Loves reality TV and all things Jane Austen—check.”
“Really? You like Jane Austen?” I ask.
“Come on, Mr. Darcy coming out of the pond in a white shirt? Yes, please,” he says, glancing back down at the list. “Works out and eats healthy—check, although I’m not sure why you’d have that on your list if you’re then going to judge a guy for it.
I literally have no online presence because I’ve spent the past five years chasing around after my preschool nephew all day and my evenings here performing.
And I would definitely be willing to relocate to New York for the foreseeable future. ”
I sit, staring at him, my mind whirring while my muscles hum with excitement. This can’t be a real offer, can it? There’s got to be some sort of catch. Some problem. Something. “Are you messing with me?”
Narrowing his eyes, he says, “Why would you think that?”
“Because when something sounds too good to be true, it always is.”
“Not always.” He glances at his watch and stands up. “I have to run. Think it over. This could be a win for both of us. Unless you were hoping your fake husband would come with benefits.”
My face turns red at the mention of benefits. “No, I don’t … that’s not what this is about. It’s purely a business thing.”
He offers me what can only be called a dazzling smile. “Well, perfect. Your search is over.”
Narrowing my eyes, I say, “But why would you want to do this?”
He glances up at the darkening sky, then says, “My entire life, there’s a little dream I kept tucked in the back corner of my mind—Broadway.
And until a few minutes ago, I thought I might have to leave it there collecting dust forever.
Now, I really do have to run. The show ends at nine-fifteen.
If you’re interested, meet me outside the amphitheater at nine-thirty.
We can exchange information and talk details.
” He turns to leave, calling over his shoulder, “See you later, my future wife!”
Paige and I sit staring at each other for a solid minute before either of us says anything (which is quite likely the longest we’ve ever gone without talking). I lean back against my chair feeling oddly numb and excited at the same time. “Well, I guess you were right.”
“Yeah, I guess I was.”
“The answer to my prayers literally appeared at the moment when I needed him most. Not exactly the way I thought I’d find a groom, or the groom I thought I’d find, but still … basically perfect.”
“Pretty much,” Paige answers, grabbing her daiquiri off the table. “Your fans will love him.”
“Oh my God, right? They’re going to go nuts for him.”
“And I think you two will have a lot of fun together.”
I nod, imagining us shopping on Fifth Avenue, laughing away with our arms interlocked. “I think so too. Unless he actually is a psycho.”
She has a quick sip, then says, “True, yeah, but we can easily find out.”
“How?”
“We’re literally surrounded by people who have worked with him for years.”