3. Claire
3
Claire
Let the Games Begin
"Nervous?"
“Nah,” Bobby says, voice barely audible over the roar of the engine.
I sneak a peek at him while I drive. His eyes are locked on the road winding through the sun-soaked flatlands of Dallas. The wind rushes through my hair, tossing it around in the open-top of the convertible rental car, bringing the scent of his cologne to my nose.
Indulging in his scent feels weirdly comforting.
“Then why are you not talking?” My eyebrows rise. “Lost your ability to speak more than one word?”
"Just getting prepared," he shrugs, still not taking his eyes off the road.
“For what? This isn't some high-pressure surgery.”
He smiles. “I’d say that’s easier than what I’m walking into.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I chuckle dryly.
Whenever I head home, I’m usually high-strung with nerves running amok, but today I actually feel a flicker of excitement. I smile at the sun on my face, feeling at ease with Bobby by my side. Not having to face the potential drama alone helps.
Bobby has been my rock for as long as I can remember. We’ve stuck together like peanut butter and jelly since my first year in med school. He's been the one constant in my ever-changing world of jobs, friends, and boyfriends for the last eight years. He went on to pursue becoming a doctor, while I…well, chose to live a life less structured.
I realized that the rigid path of becoming a doctor wasn't for me. I craved creativity and freedom, much like my mother, who was a free-spirited artist. So, while I finished med school to please my grandparents, I explored other avenues after graduation. I tried my hand at various jobs, from running restaurants to event planning, but nothing quite fit.
Finally, I found solace in the largest bookstore in the heart of the city. Surrounded by the musty scent of old pages, the spirit of rare collections, and the wonders of new creations, I felt at home. There’s just something about getting lost in the whispers of other people’s stories. I started working there part-time, and before I knew it, I was managing the place. It may not be the most glamorous or high-paying job, but it allows me the flexibility of living life on my own terms.
I reach out and squeeze his hand lightly. "Seriously, what are you thinking about?"
He finally looks at me with warm blue eyes. "Just trying to see how much I can remember from your PowerPoint presentation."
I laugh. I gave him a Carter family crash course on the plane ride here. Family trees, personality traits, relationship dynamics–years of family drama had been crammed into my slideshow. He knows most of it, but this was a different level of deep to sell our relationship.
"How much do you actually remember?"
Bobby rubs his chin. "Let's hope it's enough to not screw things up the moment we walk through the doors."
"Alright, pop quiz then," I call out. "Who's the family gossip?"
He hesitates for a second, "Uncle… Bartholomew?"
"Seriously, Bobby?” I grunt. “There's no Uncle Bartholomew. It's Aunt Beatrice!"
His eyes widen as he nods. "Yeah, I’m gonna mess this up the moment we walk in."
"No, you’re not. My life depends on this, dude."
“Then you bet on the wrong horse.”
“I’ve got no other horse.” I focus on the road as I whip the car around a bend. "Okay. Forget the stupid PowerPoint. You only need to remember three things – charm Gramps, avoid Fiona's landmines, and make sure everyone believes you're head over heels for yours truly."
Bobby arches an eyebrow. "Head over heels? That’s going to be hard to believe."
I slap him on the shoulder. “You mean that’s the only way they’ll believe I’m even with a dud like you?”
“Dud?” He scoffs. “I’ve got Laura’s long list of eligible ladies lining up to date me.”
“The fact that you called them ‘eligible ladies’ just proves why you’re exactly not my type.” I roll my eyes.
“I’m not?” He leans toward me, his voice suddenly dropping into a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “You said yourself that no one knows you better than I do.”
My cheeks heat up. "Did I?" I challenge, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I bet I can make your heart race faster than all your exes.”
Bobby's gaze fixes on me. He reaches toward me, gently fiddling with a flyaway strand of hair before tucking it behind my ear. His stormy blue eyes crinkle at the corners with amusement. A slow, teasing smile plays on his lips.
I blink and swallow. If Bobby was any other man, I’d have thought he was flirting with me right now. But Bobby rarely flirts—less so with me.
“Sooo…you wanna make my heart race?” I tease.
He moves away and throws his head back in laughter. “I’d rather high five a cactus!”
I must be out of my mind to even consider that, and that’s probably because my nerves are just acting up about going home after so many years.
"Wow!" I sputter, acting surprised. "Now I’m regretting asking you to do this. Maybe I should withdraw my end of the deal to convince Gramps to pay for TenderCare’s expansion.”
His eyes bulge comically. "What was the initial ask? Act head over heels? Piece of cake.” He lets out a low whistle. "Remember that time I had to act out an emergency scenario using nothing but a first-aid kit in Dr. Ryan's basic life support class?”
“OMG!” I scream. “Your acting that day was about as convincing as a mannequin."
He feigns hurt. "Hey, that was an Oscar-worthy performance! You just have no appreciation for the dramatic arts."
We both burst out laughing, the sound carrying in the wind. This feels good, the easy banter takes away all the tension that initially tightened deep in my belly.
We speed past a huge signboard that reads ‘ Carter Property,’ and the landscape transforms immediately. Towering oak trees line the path leading to a colossal iron gate, forming a canopy of dappled shadows that dance across the road as we drive under them. Behind the imposing gates, a gleaming white mansion rests on a mound in the distance. The sprawling estate gardens stretch out like a lush green quilt, meticulously manicured with vibrant colors from tended flower beds. The sound of fountains brings back memories of my cousins and I throwing coins into them, making wishes. And finally, the small barn I spent so many days in peeks out just beyond the mansion, painting the picture of an idyllic countryside estate.
"Wow," Bobby whistles. “This feels like a scene straight out of a luxury travel brochure. Sure your family isn’t secretly royalty?"
"Only lots of generational real estate money. Don’t show how impressed you are when we get inside, they’ll tag you as a gold digger."
“My Dad will probably rip his hair out if he hears anyone carrying his prestigious Sawyer surname tagged a gold digger.”
I chuckle. Sometimes it’s easy to forget just how filthy rich Bobby’s family is because of the way he’s chosen to live without them. I drive the car through the gates, weaving through a maze of sculptures.
This place has changed a lot since the last time I was here, but it still feels like home.
Nerves bubble in my stomach. Somehow, Bobby seems to notice. His hand brushes against mine on the gear shift, and I nod at the reassuring look on his face.
Whatever awaits me within these grand walls, I won't face it alone.
The tires screech as I pull the rental car into the driveway. The main doors of the house flying open and a horde of family members spill out. For a moment, I'm frozen, overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies—many of which I no longer recognize.
A sea of platinum blonde hair flash in the sunlight as I look around at faces.
"Claire!"
Strong arms wrap around me, squeezing me in a bear hug. I pull back to see the familiar face of my brother Gavin. He’s flanked by Richard, the second eldest, and Mike, the youngest, but older than me by a year. It was rough being the youngest child and the only girl.
"Finally decided to grace us with your presence?" Gavin’s booming laugh echoes across the driveway.
Richard, always the quiet observer, silently throws his arms around me. “Welcome home, Claire.”
Mike clutches his chest theatrically before turning to Bobby with a wide grin. "Are you the man who finally knocked some sense into our stubborn sister?"
He shakes Bobby’s hand, followed by Gavin and Richard.
"Claire's told me so much about you guys," Bobby flashes his typical warm smile. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you all."
The next wave of people who step forward are Richard and Gavin's wives, Emily and Sarah. Then the horde descends. I offer a small smile, feeling a prickle of unease as my head swivels around, my brain racing at dizzying speed as I try to sort out faces with names. Throughout the entire exchange, my hand remains firmly clasped in Bobby's.
His touch gives me solidity in this wave.
"Where are Gramps and Mimi?" I ask as soon as I get some breathing space.
"Upstairs,” Mike steps forward. "Waiting for their prodigal granddaughter’s return."
"Alright, let’s not keep them waiting!" Gavin announces, clapping his hands.
Bobby and I are pushed to the head of the crowd as we walk up the steps into the mansion. The foyer is just as I remember it—a Victorian-era grandeur, complete with a sweeping staircase and a crystal chandelier casting a rainbow of lights across polished marble floor.
Mimi spots me first, her eyes swell with tears, and a sob escapes her lips. She rushes toward me with open arms.
"Claire, oh my Claire!" She pulls me into a fierce hug. "What took you so long, child. I thought you were never coming home."
Tears spring to my eyes and I blink them away quickly.
"Mimi, I'm so sorry."
A throat clears behind us, and I pull back to see Gramps standing a foot away, a hint of a smile playing on his aged face.
"Well, well, well," he drawls his raspy voice. “Look who finally decided to come home. I wish I didn’t need to strong-arm you into submission."
"Gramps!" I chide playfully, wrapping my arms around him. “I, uh, I was going to come." The lie tastes sour on my tongue, but I don’t know what else to say now that he’s staring me down in person.
He chuckles. “Of course, you were, sweetheart.” His gaze flickers to Bobby, who stands right next to me. “You must be the man Fiona told me about.”
Bobby bows and takes Gramps stretched hand. "I’m Robert. Claire’s boyfriend.”
I step forward, looping my arm through his. “Meet Bobby, Gramps." Gently turning Bobby’s face to me, I look into his eyes and say, “The love of my life.”
Bobby cups my face with his palm and I can’t help but feel a strong connection with him . He’s been through thick and thin with me. And here he is again, showing me unwavering commitment to me. How did I land such an amazing friend?
A heavy silence settles in the room. Mimi gasps silently, a hand flying to her pearls.
Gramps' smile broadens, a slight glint in his eyes. “Welcome to the family, son."
Thank goodness. He broke the stillness between Bobby and I just in time. I was either going to break out into laughter or plant a kiss on him. My nerves can’t decide which way to go.
“Thank you, Mr. Carter. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Gramps nods. “Can you take them to their wing, so they can rest? I’m sure they had a long day of travel.”
Fiona emerges from the shadows across the room, a guarded look in her eyes.
“Come with me,” she gestures, her eyes flitting between Bobby and I.
Following Fiona, Bobby and I weave through the maze of hallways branching from the grand foyer. The boisterous chatter downstairs fades with each step, replaced the click of high heels on polished marble floors.
Three minutes later, Fiona stops in front of a heavy oak door.
"Here we are," she announces. "The East Wing Guest Suite should be perfect for your two."
Her words drip with sarcasm, and I force a tight smile in return.
"Thanks, Fiona."
The suite is a luxurious mini apartment with a plush living room, a well-equipped kitchenette, and a balcony overlooking a rose garden. Bobby wanders over to the balcony, marveling at the view.
I head towards the bedroom, but my steps falter as I reach the doorway. There's only one bedroom. And one king-size bed. I know quite well there are other suites with two bedrooms.
Just then, Fiona reappears by my side, a pair of keys dangling between her manicured fingers.
I turn toward her. "But where's Bobby supposed to sleep?" I gesture towards the singular bedroom. “There’s gotta be another suite close by he can stay in?"
"Uh. You'll be sharing this one, silly. You guys are a couple, aren’t you?" Fiona questions.
"Right." My voice rises a notch in disbelief. “I was more so thinking of the family, trying to be respectful and all,” I quickly add.
“Besides, we had to scramble to get this one prepared in time for your… surprise arrival . I manage the estate and there weren’t many options left for you with everyone else in town who actually cares about this family."
“Surprise arrival?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually pull through with bringing a man here.” Her gaze flickers pointedly at Bobby, who's now watching the exchange from the balcony. “You must really need the money if you’re coming back now for the first time since graduation. It’s been years.”
My blood begins to boil. This is beyond ridiculous.
"You know, you shouldn't let your guard down just yet," I say, my voice laced with a hint of steel. "Money may not be the only reason I'm back."
The smug smirk melts from her face, instantly replaced by a venomous stare. "Are you threatening me?"
"Just warning you," I counter, meeting her gaze head-on. "Now that I’m here, I might decide to take everything you think you have control over from you."
Fiona's nostrils flare, her hand balling into a fist. She attempts another jab. "Is something wrong in paradise? Thought you two would want to share the same bed. Is there another reason you can't share a room?"
"Actually, everything's perfectly fine," Bobby announces, striding in, his voice smooth and confident.
He pulls me into his arms, his touch sending a jolt I wasn't expecting. "I like to have a lot of room, but we’ll just have to work with what we got," he murmurs into my ear, his breath warm against my cheek. He leans back slightly, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hope the walls are soundproof. We don’t want to wake up our neighbors."
Heat explodes in my belly at the image his words paint.
Flustered and caught off guard by his sudden display of affection, Fiona can only manage a weak, "Y-yes, of course."
“Good. Thanks for your help.”
Fiona stares at us, her face a mask of conflicting emotions – anger, suspicion, and a trace of something that might be… jealousy? It's a fleeting expression, gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a forced smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Well then," she manages through gritted teeth. "Enjoy. Dinner will be served in the grand hall at eight. Don't be late."
She throws us one last venomous look before pivoting on her heel and marching out of the room.
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. As soon as she's gone, Bobby releases me from his embrace, his eyes searching mine. For a moment, we simply stand there, the air crackling with unspoken tension.
"Wow," I finally blurt, letting out a shaky breath. "That was definitely Oscar-worthy."
Bobby lets out a low chuckle. “Yeah, no kidding."
I smirk. “Great work there. Your little improvisation threw her off course."
His grin widens. "Now we just have to deal with the problem of sharing a room with only one bed."
Why’s the idea of sharing a bed with him suddenly filling my head with confused images and making my heart race?
"That’s simple," I shrug. "We’ve shared spaces plenty of times."
“Right,” he nods. “I can take the couch tonight.”
I watch him walk away, the air suddenly crackling with some form of fear that I may have started something a lot more complicated, and a whole lot more dangerous than I initially thought it would be. Maybe I didn’t really think this fake boyfriend thing through all the way.