3. Embry
3
Embry
My dog woke me up the next morning by standing over me and breathing in my face. “It’s too early, Dusty,” I mumbled, as I tried to hide under the covers. He stepped up his game by whining and digging at me, until I finally stumbled out of bed and pulled on my unicorn hoodie over my pajamas.
He kept darting around me, so I had to concentrate on not tripping over him as we made our way downstairs and down the long hallway that led to the back of the house. As soon as I opened the kitchen door, Dusty launched himself through it like a rocket. Then he did a quick lap to make sure his territory was secure. The little tan and white terrier mix barely weighed ten pounds, but he was fully convinced he was a big, tough dog.
Once he finished doing his business, he bounded back into the kitchen. I filled two bowls, one with cat food, the other with dog food, and put his on the floor. The black cat who’d showed up one day and never left appeared out of nowhere as I placed her dish on the counter. We fed her up there so Dusty couldn’t inhale all of her food.
I muttered, “Hi, cat,” as I rinsed and refilled a pair of water dishes. After I placed them next to the food bowls, I pulled my hoodie over my eyes. The sunny pink and purple kitchen was way too bright at this hour. Then I curled up on the floor and waited for my dog to finish eating, so we could go back to bed.
Apparently I fell asleep, and when I woke up two of my housemates were eating breakfast at the kitchen table. I sat up and pushed the hood off my head as I mumbled, “What time is it?”
Hal tucked a strand of his long, dark hair behind his ear and grinned at me. He was a former model and intimidatingly gorgeous, but he was also nice, so I’d stopped being afraid to talk to him at some point. “Almost nine. We tried to wake you to see if you wanted pancakes, but you sleep like the dead.”
My disappointment must have been written all over my face, because Vee chimed in, “Don’t worry, we saved you some. There’s a plate in the oven. Be careful, because it’s probably hot to the touch.”
I leapt up and grabbed a dish towel, which I used to maneuver the plate to the table. As I sat down, I asked, “Have you seen Dusty?”
“He’s hanging out in the living room with the cat and the bird.” That combination could have spelled trouble, but Vee’s little blue parakeet Clementine was firmly in charge. Vee reached out and plucked a piece of kibble off my hoodie. “Rough night?”
“I had a lot to think about, and it kept me up late.” I drenched the pancakes in syrup and asked, “If I get married in the next few days, do you guys think you’d want to come to the wedding ceremony?”
They didn’t reply, and when I put down the syrup bottle and glanced at them, both of my friends were staring at me. After a beat, Hal asked, “Is that a possibility?”
“I think so. I mean, Bryson hasn’t agreed to it yet, but it’s not like he has a lot of options.”
Vee’s dark eyes were big as saucers. “Maybe start at the beginning, Em.”
“I met a guy at a coffee house last night. He needs to get married, and I offered to help him out. It would be a pretty sweet deal, except that I’d have to move in with him. But I’d keep my room here and come visit all the time, so it’s not like I’d never see you guys again. And of course, once the year was up, I’d move back in.”
My friends were still staring at me. After another pause, Vee shook his head, hard enough to toss around his shaggy black hair. “Nope. Whatever scam some guy is trying to pull on you, it’s not happening.”
“It’s not a scam. Let me start over.”
I told them the entire story, in between shoveling pancakes in my mouth. When I was finished, Vee and Hal exchanged looks. Apparently they shared some kind of mental telepathy, because Hal muttered, “Be right back,” and got up and hurried out of the kitchen.
Vee pressed his hands to either side of his face. His dark purple nail polish was halfway chipped off, so I said, “We should do mani-pedis later if you’re going to be around.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
Hal reappeared a few moments later with his laptop. He pushed his plate aside and flipped open the computer as he asked me, “What’s this guy’s full name?”
“Bryson Baudelaire.”
“How do you spell that?”
“No clue.”
“It sounds fake,” Vee said.
“That’s because it’s the last name of the kids in those Lemony Snicket books,” Hal told him, as he clicked a few keys.
Vee crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “See? Fake name.”
“It could also be a real last name. There was a French poet called Baudelaire.” Hal turned the laptop to face me and asked, “Is this him?”
“Yup.” The picture on the screen was definitely the man I’d met, but he looked way better. Last night, he’d been pale and rumpled. Plus, there was that whole sopping wet thing.
In the photo, he was dressed in a spotless white chef’s coat with his name embroidered where a name tag would go. His dark hair was neatly styled, and he was wearing a fancier pair of glasses. But the biggest difference was his confidence. That version of him stood tall and proud, staring into the camera with his arms crossed over his chest. In person, he’d seemed sort of beaten down… but then, he had just suffered a major public humiliation.
There was an article beneath the photo with a headline that read: Bryson Baudelaire prepares to take the culinary world by storm. I murmured, “That must have been right before his restaurant was set to open.”
Hal turned the screen to face him and scanned the article before saying, “I actually ate at his restaurant last year. It was called Almond, for some reason. I was interning for that hotshot designer, and he took me and his other intern there to celebrate a new contract with a major department store. I think he was trying to show off, because the restaurant had just opened the week before and it was hard to get a reservation.”
I murmured, “Oh wow. If it was new last year and it closed six months ago, it really didn’t last very long.”
“That’s not unusual,” Vee told me. “I remember hearing that half of all new restaurants close within the first year.”
I asked Hal, “What was it like?”
“It was pretty—soft colors, natural light, blond wood. Sort of Scandinavian.”
“How was the food?”
He shrugged. “Your typical fine dining bullshit. It tasted good and looked beautiful, but each course was only two or three bites. When we got back to the studio I had to eat a granola bar because I was still hungry, and I’m not a big eater.”
“I’ve never been to a place that fancy. Have you, Vee?”
“Nah. If I’m spending a hundred bucks on a meal, I want to be so full at the end of it that you have to roll me to the car.”
“It was way more expensive than that.” Hal closed the computer and said, “It’s good to know he was telling the truth about who he is, but you really need to think this through, Em. You’d be moving in with a total stranger. What if he pressured you for sex or something?”
“That won’t happen. Didn’t I mention he’s straight?”
My friends looked surprised again, and Vee said, “No, you didn’t. Why would a straight guy marry a man?”
“Because he doesn’t have any other options.” Vee started to protest, but I interrupted him. “I know the whole thing sounds strange, but this could do so much for me. In the short term, I’d be able to use the monthly stipend to give Yolanda and JoJo what I owe them.” I felt awful about owing my landladies two months’ back rent. “And in a year, I’d end up with a hundred grand, which I could use to start my own custom cake business. That’s the only way I’ll ever get to do what I love and be a cake decorator, after getting fired from just about every bakery in town for being too clumsy.”
“It’s definitely a life-changing amount, although after taxes it’ll come out to around sixty thousand.” Hal was always a realist.
“That’s still way more money than I’ve ever seen.”
“Sure,” Hal said, “but it’s not for nothing. You’re giving this stranger a year of your life. And what if you meet someone great during that time and want to date them? How would that work?”
“Let’s be real. My love life is a train wreck. Somehow, I don’t think Prince Charming is suddenly going to materialize and try to whisk me away.”
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind about this,” Hal said.
“I guess I have. I want to do it, but who knows if Bryson is going to reach the same conclusion?”
“He probably will. Like you said, what choice does he have? But before this goes any further, I need to meet him,” Vee told me.
Hal cut in with, “ We need to meet him.”
“Right. We need to meet him,” Vee said. “If we spot any red flags, you have to promise not to do this, Em. No amount of money is worth putting yourself in a bad situation. If you need some help catching up on your bills, I have a little money put away, and you’re welcome to it.”
Hal nodded. “I second everything Vee just said, including the part about giving you money if you need it.”
That made me want to cry. Both of them were struggling to make ends meet, so I’d never take their money, and the last thing I wanted was to be a burden to them. But it was so touching that they’d offer. “You’re such good friends, and I love you so much. I definitely want you to meet him and give me your opinion.”
A moment later, I yelped in surprise when my phone vibrated in my hoodie’s kangaroo pocket. I’d forgotten it was in there. It turned out to be a text from Bryson, which said: I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m not totally convinced it’s the best idea, but since I don’t have any other options, let’s proceed. I grinned and murmured, “Every boy’s dream proposal.” Another message popped up: If you want to, that is.
I showed my friends the screen and asked, “Are you two available this afternoon? If so, I’ll see if he can come over.”
“I’ll clear my schedule,” Hal told me.
“Me, too,” Vee said, “but tell him we’re coming to his house. We can do one of those site inspections, like when someone wants to adopt a baby.” Should I mention the baby in question was actually twenty-eight? “We’re calling the rest of the fam, too. They’ll want to get in on this.”
As I started to type a message, I muttered, “This guy has no idea what he’s in for.”
That afternoon, all six of my housemates and my dog accompanied me to the home of my future fake husband. “This neighborhood is nice ,” Hal said, as we piled out of Dylan’s SUV.
“I like all the Christmas decorations.” Lark pointed at a pair of modern, stylized reindeer in one of the tiny front yards.
“Yeah, it looks like a fun block, except for that house.” Vee pointed at a dark blue Edwardian.
I shifted Dusty in my arms and checked the address on my phone. “That’s Bryson’s house.”
“Minus one point for Scrooge-like tendencies.” Apparently Vee was keeping score.
I tried to give Bryson the benefit of the doubt. “Maybe he just hasn’t gotten around to decorating.”
“Or maybe the ghost of Christmas past has him on the schedule for later tonight,” Vee muttered.
“It’s a pretty house, though.” It was elegant and dignified, and maybe a bit too perfect. I really couldn’t imagine myself living there, but I reminded myself it was only temporary.
All of us had paused on the sidewalk. After a moment, Yolanda asked, “Are we doing this, or what?” Then she led the march up the stairs to the front door.
I took a deep breath and followed my friends. This was going to be awkward, no doubt about it.