Chapter 5
Chapter Five
WILDER
“That went really well,” I say as we make it out on the sidewalk, where I turn to find a very pissed-off Scottie.
Through clenched teeth, she says, “That went well? You think that went well?”
“Yeah, he said he thinks our marriage still has potential.”
“You idiot !” she shouts, clenching her fists at her sides. “I don’t want our marriage to have potential. I wanted it to die dead on the floor of that office. I wanted us hemorrhaging up there. I wanted there to be no ability to resuscitate.”
I gesture toward the office. “After the potential he saw in us?”
“Potential?”
“Yes, he said we could still make it.”
She stands taller, blinking. “Oh my God.” She takes a step back. “You’re crazy. You’re actually crazy. Does your brother know this?”
“I’m not crazy.”
“Yes, you are. That’s the only explanation I can fathom for why you’re carrying on this farce. You…you come dressed like you just left a My Chemical Romance concert, you have total disregard for anything you said in there, you talked about penis skin and then held my hand on the way out. It’s not real, Wilder. We are not real.” She gestures between us.
“I understand that.”
“Do you though?” She tucks her hair behind her ear. “Because you just paid for eight days in marriage camp at reception.”
I shrug. “I know, because that seemed fun.”
She rubs her temples. “Seemed fun? Wilder, don’t you hear what you’re saying? I can’t afford a marriage retreat, even if I was married.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say nonchalantly. “My treat.”
“Okay, besides the fact that you can just throw down fifteen grand as a ‘treat,’ I don’t have the luxury of picking up and going to the Catskills for eight days. I actually have a job, a life.”
“He said Ellison would give you time off. I didn’t think it would be a big deal, and from what I experienced in that office, it seems like you might be a touch uptight and need to loosen up. This camp might do that.”
“I was uptight because you were not following instructions.”
“What instructions?” I ask. “I assumed we were playing it by ear up there, which, by the way, the family recipe thing was gold. Took everything in me not to bust out in laughter. Seriously, you should take improv classes. You were really good on your feet.”
“I…I can’t take you right now.” She blinks a few more times and then charges down the sidewalk away from me.
I chase after her and match her stride when I catch up. “Don’t you think we have some things to talk about? To hammer out?”
She shakes her head. “No. There’s nothing to talk about. This was all a huge mistake. I’m just going to have to go talk to Ellison and tell her the truth. Tell her that I lied to fit in. Sure, it’ll be a great way to get fired probably, and my hopes of moving on to bigger and better things will crumble at my feet, causing me to have to start all over again. But who doesn’t like a second-chance, rock-bottom storyline?”
“Stop,” I say, tugging on her hand. “You’re not going to get fired.”
“You don’t know that,” she says. “You don’t know my company. Being happily married is apparently a cult there. They find out I lied, not only will the Brads and Chad point and laugh in their stupid embroidered vests, but they will gleefully watch me walk out of the office building with a boxful of my supplies.” She stops and looks out dizzily toward the street. “I don’t think I can stomach the thought of it.”
Fearing she’s on the verge of a mental breakdown, I spot a juice bar across the street, so I guide her by the small of her back and say, “Follow me.”
Thankfully, she doesn’t put up a fight and allows me to guide her. I open the door, usher her in and straight to the back, where there’s seating and no one around. I sit her down, and she leans against her side of the booth, looking like she’s in a daze.
Yeah, I think I might have broken her.
Should I have not paid for the eight-day adult summer camp? Maybe, but I really couldn’t see another option. And Scottie looked like she needed the break. Also, it didn’t seem like Sanders was going to let up on the idea. Not sure Scottie even had a choice in the matter. The minute he saw us starting to fight, he had it in his head that we were meant to attend his camp. Either way, I thought we’d be going.
I snap my fingers in front of her face, knocking her out of her daze.
“We need to talk.”
“What is there to talk about?” She tosses her arms in the air. “I’m going to be the laughingstock of the office. I’m never going to be able to show my face again. I’m going to have to move back in with my parents.” She shivers. “My mom is going to want to wear matching pajamas every night, and my dad will suffocate me with questions. God, it’ll be the absolute pits.”
I hold back my chuckle, because who says “the absolute pits”?
“What if it doesn’t have to be that way?”
She tosses her hand in defeat. “What are you going to do? Ask for your money back?”
“No. I’m thinking, what if we went?”
“Oh my God, there you go again with the delusions.” She presses her fingers into the table between us and says, “Earth to Wilder, we are not married.”
“I know we’re not married.”
“Then why in hell would you want to go with me to a summer camp where all the activities are centered around married couples?”
“I’m just spitballing here, but tell me if I’m wrong. You don’t want to look bad in front of your boss and coworkers, who seem to all be obsessed with being married. Is that right?”
“Correct. Marriage is very important to them.”
“Do you like your job?”
“It’s fine. I don’t like golf, but that’s unfortunately what I have to read about right now.”
“And you want to find a new job, but this current job is a step in the right direction.”
“Yes…” She leans back in the booth. “Do you have a point to all this?”
“What if…what if we go?—”
“Oh my God,” she says with a roll of her eyes.
“Wait, hear me out.” I hold up my hands. When she gives me the chance to continue, I say, “We get to the summer camp, we act snarly toward each other at first and then pretend as we move along the activities that we’re slowly falling back in love.”
“What is it with you? Do you find me attractive or something? Why are you clinging on to me? We’re supposed to be splitting up, Wilder. Not getting back together.”
“For the record, you’re an attractive woman, but that’s not why I’m suggesting this.” Her cheeks blush from the compliment. She’s more than just attractive. She’s stunning with her light blue eyes and sultry body. And call me crazy, but I like the ornery side of her. It makes her that much more interesting. But she’s also been an amazing friend to Mika, especially through his darker moments, when he wasn’t opening up to his family, so I’ll do whatever she needs. “I’m saying that you prove to Sanders that his camp worked so he feels good about himself, you can report back to your boss that her husband is a miracle worker and that you and your husband are better than ever, and then in a few months, when you’re ready, you can move on to a new job. In the meantime, if there’s an event or something you need from me to prove that we’re still a married couple, I have no problem filling in.”
“What do you mean, filling in?” she says, looking skeptical but also interested in my idea.
“I mean if, let’s say, you have a company Christmas party and spouses are invited, I’ll go with you.”
“Why…why would you do that?”
“Because you’re Mika’s best friend, and I’d do anything for him.” And because she’s right. I didn’t really follow the script with Sanders. She did not want to go to a marriage camp. “And, well, because I feel like I sort of failed you today even though I thought we excelled on the spot.”
“What if you fall in love in that time?”
“I won’t,” I say on a chuckle.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m not interested in love at the moment.”
“What if you are three months down the road?”
I level with her and say, “It’s not easy dating when people find out who I am.”
“What do you mean? Who are you?” Scottie asks skeptically.
“I mean, it’s just not something you need to worry about. Okay?”
Her lips quirk to the side as she mulls over my idea. After a few seconds of silence, she asks, “What if they ask about you at work and inquire why you never come to pick me up at the office?”
“Is that a thing?”
She slowly nods, her eyes wide. “You don’t know these people. They’re obsessed with their spouses. This is a commitment. This isn’t just something you haphazardly do. If you’re going to pretend to be my husband, then you’re going to have to go all in.”
I tug on my lip ring, a little unsure about what I just offered. “How long do you think it would take you to find a new job?”
“In today’s job market? I think I need at least six months to gain more experience with the company and then try to find somewhere else to work.”
I tug on my lip ring again, looking out toward the empty New York street. “I can commit six months to you. Anything after that though, you’ll have to figure it out on your own.”
“You’re serious?” she says.
“Yeah, I’m serious. In the grand scheme of things, six months is nothing.”
“Six months is half a year, Wilder. You’re okay with dedicating half a year to randomly going to couple events with me?”
“I honestly have nothing better to do, so yeah. Plus, I’ll get to keep practicing my improv.”
“What…what are you?” She gives me a quick once-over. “Some wannabe actor, trying to get into Groundlings?”
I smirk. “Something like that. What do you say?”
She studies me carefully. After a few seconds, she finally says, “I say no to any more of that improv stuff. For all I know, you’re going to tell everyone I’m pregnant, and what the hell would we do with that?”
“Get you pregnant.”
Her expression falls. “No.”
“I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t ever commit to something like that.”
“No, you’ll just commit to an eight-day marriage camp.”
“How long are you going to hold that against me?”
“For-ev-ver,” she drags out. “Forever, Wilder. As long as you’re alive, I will always remind you of that grave mistake. When Mika gets married one day, I will remind you. When we run into each other at Stockings, it’s the first thing I’ll say, and when I spot you randomly in Central Park, because the universe will constantly make us run into each other now, I will say, ‘Remember that time you signed us up for an eight-day marriage camp when you were supposed to help me make our marriage look like it’s in shambles?’”
“To be fair, we did make it look like it was in shambles, hence the invitation to the marriage camp. So if you ask me, mission accomplished.”
She’s unamused.
Not even a smirk.
So I clear my throat and say, “Anyway, do we have a deal?”
She crosses her arms at her chest. “Honestly, though, what’s in it for you?”
“An experience,” I answer.
She shakes her head in disbelief. “I mean, if you think this is what you need in order to bring joy to your life, then to each their own.”
I can sense the judgment in her tone, but I’m not going to let it bother me, because yeah, maybe this is what I need to bring me some joy. To get me out of this rut I’m living in. To live the life I know my dad would have wanted me to live.
“So then it’s a deal?”
She shrugs. “I guess so.”
“Great. Then I guess I’ll see you Monday…Pips.”
She rolls her eyes, grabs her purse, and scoots out of the bench. “See you Monday,” she mutters and then heads out of the juice bar and down the street.
Well, this was productive. Now to do some research on this camp. I need to know what to expect.