Two
I ’M IN SUCH AN EMOTIONAL flurry that I tell Dan I can’t meet that evening but can get together sometime tomorrow instead.
It’s not that I have any plans for the night other than scrolling through my phone and maybe hunting for a show to watch. But I’m worried that I’m in such a tizzy I won’t be able to communicate clearly or rationally.
I never let anyone see me rattled or emotionally fraught. I’m certainly not going to change that for Dan.
So I spend the evening mentally sorting through the situation—what I want, what he’s offering, how I’m going to respond to the initial conversation, and how I’m going to deal with the next three months of my life. And the next morning I feel better. More myself.
I can tackle this marriage of convenience with the same matter-of-fact composure that I’ve faced everything else in my life.
As I go through my work for the day—beginning with Oscar’s walk and ending with feeding and changing the litter box for the six cats whose owner is out of town for the next three days—I keep reminding myself that this thing with Dan is another job.
Nothing more than a job.
It’s going to earn me a lot of money, so it will be well worth doing.
At seven thirty that evening, after finishing with the cats, I drive back downtown, luck out in finding a convenient street spot to park in, and then check my hair and the remains of my mascara in my visor mirror before getting out of the car.
I look fine. Smooth hair with just a few flyaways. No embarrassing flecks or smears and naturally pink cheeks. The same jeans and red top I’ve been wearing all day.
He’s not going to be blown away by me, but that doesn’t matter in the slightest.
This isn’t about attraction. It’s about practicalities.
When my heart does a weird little flutter on entering and immediately seeing Dan’s warm smile and broad shoulders, I remind myself of the reality yet again.
Dan isn’t one of Green Valley’s quintessential golden boys or the son of one of the wealthiest families like Carter Wilson or Savannah’s husband, Lance. Dan’s family isn’t central to the town’s social circle, and everyone who sees him doesn’t automatically know who he is.
But he’s undeniably handsome. Charming and outgoing. He’s clearly well-liked by everyone who knows him, and although he’s not wealthy enough not to work, he’s also not scrambling to get by like me and so many people I’ve known.
He’s privileged and attractive and the kind of guy who succeeds without trying too hard.
In other words, he’s as far out of my league as Lance or Carter would have been.
I might as well get a crush on a movie star as start thinking about Dan as more than a job.
He’s sitting at a table with three of his friends, but he sees me almost immediately and jumps up, smiling as he strides over.
“Hey, Vicky,” he says with his typical leisurely charm. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course.” I glance over toward his friends, who are all openly staring at us. Surely he’s not going to want to have this discussion in front of them.
“I was just killing time over there. We can get our own table.” He has obviously read my mind. “Let’s order first.”
I always get hit with this weird pressure about giving my order without knowing what others are getting. I don’t know why. Surely it doesn’t matter if I choose differently than them. But I often find myself freezing up whenever I’m asked out of the blue.
As we wait in line behind the family in front of us, I stare up at the chalked menu on the wall behind the counter, and my mind spins frantically, trying to land on something appropriate. Dan drinks black coffee in the mornings. Is that what he gets in the evenings as well? Is that what I should get too?
I’m convinced none of my inner turmoil reflects on my face—I’m really good at hiding it—but after a minute Dan says lightly, “The chai lattes are really good here. Or, if you like the fancy sweet drinks, they’ve got this caramel-mocha blended thing that’s like about five desserts in one.”
I giggle, ostensibly at his words but mostly in relief. “Chai latte sounds good. I do like sweets, but that might do me in right now.”
I reach for my wallet automatically as we approach the counter, but he orders both our chai lattes and pays before I can even make a gesture.
The guy behind the counter has longish light brown hair, heavy-lidded eyes, and the relaxed, unfocused expression of a surfer or a stoner. I’ve seen him working in this coffee shop a lot and always thought he was cute and unlike anyone else I’ve met in this town.
“Vicky, this is Chase,” Dan says, gesturing across the counter as he gives the introduction. “He’s not as half-asleep as he looks.”
The guy huffs at Dan and then gives me an endearing smile. “Nice to meet you, Vicky. Are you sure you want to be hanging out with this one? You look like you can do a lot better.”
I laugh at his teasing words, and Dan pretends to grumble. Chase says our drinks will be ready soon, so I follow Dan to a table in the far corner of the room.
“So,” Dan says, leaning back in his seat, his eyes resting on my face with a gaze that’s laid-back on the surface but feels like so much more than that underneath.
“So,” I repeat. I have no idea how to start this conversation. What is a girl supposed to say in this situation? Do you still want to pay me a hundred thousand dollars to marry you?
“So you might be interested in my offer?” he asks softly.
I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. I think so. If we can come to a good deal. I mean, I’m happy to discuss it.”
Before Dan can respond, Chase walks over to our table, bringing our drinks. He gives me a wink as he sets mine down that makes me smile.
“He and Paige are together,” Dan says when Chase has returned behind the counter.
“What?” My eyes widen. I’m surprised by the shift in conversation.
“Chase. And Paige. They’re dating. Seriously. They’re together.”
“Oh.” I frown, still confused. I’m pretty sure Paige is the dark-haired woman working on a laptop at the table Dan was sitting at earlier, but I have no idea why he’s offering this information like it’s significant. “Okay. Well, that’s good for them, I guess.”
Dan seems momentarily distracted for no good reason, but he soon shakes it off and returns to our earlier conversation. “So you want to make a good deal.”
I blink, realizing what I said and how it might have sounded. “I didn’t mean I want more money. What you’ve offered is great. I meant if we can get the details worked out in a way that’s... that’s comfortable for both of us.”
“Of course. How about I tell you what I need, and then you can tell me if that works for you and what you’ll need in return?”
I nod, relieved he’s taking the initiative. Rick always expected me to take the lead in conversation and decision-making and organizing finances and pretty much everything else. It was always so exhausting.
“Okay then. I’m dealing with this ridiculous stipulation in the trust fund from my grandparents. I get access to it when I turn thirty-five or when I get married—whichever comes first.”
“Were you wild when you were younger?” I ask, genuinely curious. “Is that why they didn’t trust you to make good use of the money?”
He shrugs. “I don’t think I was that bad. I did indulge in some underage drinking and smoked the occasional joint, but I never got arrested or went crazy with money or did anything too off the rails. I went to college and got a master’s right afterward and then immediately got a job, so they couldn’t have been disappointed in my career track. I think they just thought it was a good idea for me to marry instead of playing the field for too long and it would make me grow up quickly or something.”
“Okay. People in Green Valley are kind of weird, aren’t they?”
Dan lets out a breathy laugh. “They definitely are. So anyway, there’s no requirement about the length of the marriage, so as soon as we have the marriage certificate, I think I can go to the trustee and start the proceedings. The only thing I’m worried about is that he believes the marriage is real. If he thinks it’s just on paper, he can dig in his heels since the decision is up to him. So we’ll just have to make the act convincing. He has no idea if or who I’ve been dating, so I figured we could get engaged fairly soon. Then be engaged for a couple of months and then get married. That should be enough to convey a real if slightly rushed marriage.”
“Yeah. That makes sense.”
“So the most we’d have to put on this act is about three or four months. And it would probably be less. We’d have to go out at least once or twice a week on dates to make it look like we’re actually together, but I don’t see any reason we’d need to hang out together constantly. So most of your time could still be your own. And the marriage itself would only be on paper.” He shifts in his seat slightly. “We wouldn’t have to... do anything in terms of that.”
“Okay.” I clear my throat, flushing slightly at the idea of doing something with Dan as a married couple. “That doesn’t seem too difficult.”
“I really don’t think it will be. You just couldn’t be dating anyone else during the time we’re in this... this deal.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem. I haven’t dated anyone since I’ve moved here, and I don’t have any plans to anytime soon.”
He shoots me a curious look but stops himself from asking the question.
“I got out of a bad relationship last year before I moved here,” I explain. “I’m not in a hurry to get tied up in another one.”
He looks like he has more questions, but he doesn’t ask them. “Okay. Then not dating anyone else shouldn’t be a problem for you. Obviously I won’t either. Otherwise, the only thing I’d ask is for you to act like you’re into me when we’re in public. We don’t have to go full steam with PDA or anything, but we do want to convey the impression that we’re in love.”
“Yes. I figured we’d need to do something like that. I’m pretty sure I could manage to suffer through a few stray touches from you.” I smile so he knows I’m teasing.
He chuckles. “Okay. So those are the only specifics I’m looking for. What about you? What are you worried about?”
“I... Uh, I’m not sure. You’ve covered a lot of it.”
“I know it’s a strange and vulnerable position to put yourself in. In all seriousness, I can get you references if you want. Or you can talk to people who know me so you won’t be worried about me taking advantage of you.”
I’m surprised and strangely touched by the offer. “I feel like I’ve already gotten references on you. Everyone I know who’s mentioned you has constantly testified that you’re a great guy.”
“Really?” He straightens up, openly pleased by that piece of information.
“Yes. So unless you’ve managed to hide some sort of dark iniquity from every single person who knows you, I have to believe that you are, in fact, a good guy. That’s one of the reasons why I changed my mind after your first... first offer.”
He laughs. “You probably thought I was some sort of weird perv.”
“Not exactly. But it was very strange, and I didn’t trust you. But I feel better about that now.”
“You said that was one of the reasons you changed your mind? What was the other?”
I hesitated, embarrassed by the truth. But I tell him anyway. “You told me how much money you’d give me.”
Because I’m watching him, I see his expression shift very slightly. Not in a bad way. More like enlightenment. Like he understands. “I see.”
“Maybe it sounds mercenary, but I have nothing. My ex-boyfriend ruined my credit. I was living in a dorm until I graduated, but after that I couldn’t get any sort of decent apartment even if I’d managed to find a job that paid enough for me to live and also save something for grad school. Jim and Esther have been incredibly generous, but I hate to live on their charity for any longer than I have to. With what you’re giving me, I’ll hopefully have enough to pay tuition and even some left for living expenses for two years. That will get me through the program. After that, I can get a decent job and really start over.”
I stop talking abruptly, realizing I’m rambling in a way I never do. About something very personal to me. What am I even thinking?
Dan is visibly listening, and his expression and voice are both almost gentle as he says, “I’m sorry you’re having to live through the consequences of that guy’s behavior, and I’m glad to hear what I can offer will really help you.”
“It will,” I admit, shaking off my self-consciousness. “So I’m on board with this deal if you are.”
“I am too.” He extends a hand over the table.
I stare at it for a couple of seconds before I take it. Shake it. Slowly let it go.
Dan smiles at me. “Thank you.”
“Hey, I’m getting as much out of this as you are, so you don’t have to thank me. I think it might work out for both of us.”
We spend about twenty more minutes making a schedule for the next few months and ironing out the details on how we’ll act and the kinds of social presence we’ll make as an engaged couple.
When we’ve sorted out everything we can at this point, I start to feel awkward again, so I make a few noises about leaving.
Despite my protestation, Dan insists on walking me to my car. He carries our mugs up to the counter, earning a called-out thank-you from Chase, and then walks back to where I’m standing by our table.
I notice that Paige and the other couple at the big table are watching us as we leave. They’re Dan’s friends. There’s a good chance they know exactly what we’re doing together. As Dan holds the door open for me, a couple of college-aged girls are coming in, so he keeps holding the door open for them too.
They giggle and shoot him flirtatious glances. For some reason, I find them very annoying.
It’s different. Walking out of the coffee shop with Dan. Everyone who knows him loves him. And people who don’t know him want to.
It’s never happened to me before. Being with someone like him.
Being the girl who is with the best guy.
Even if it’s only fake.
***
“W HERE IS HE TAKING you?” Savannah asks on Saturday evening at 6:42, a half hour before Dan is picking me up for our first fake date.
“He didn’t say.” I check out my reflection in the mirror. Despite the fact that this date isn’t a real one, I have just as many nervous flutters as I would normally before a date. And just as many worries about my choice of wardrobe. I’m wearing fitted cropped pants in a chocolate-brown color with a sleeveless pink top and sandals with enough heel to extend the length of my legs.
“He could have at least told you casual or upscale.”
“He said nice but not fancy. You think this will work okay, don’t you?” The fabric and cut of my top elevate it beyond casual wear, but the pants and warm colors keep the outfit from looking overdone. I don’t have many nicer clothes, and this is literally the only outfit I could put together that feels appropriate and also attractive.
“You look perfect for nice but not fancy. He’s going to show up in good trousers and a button-up shirt. Just wait. And what you’re wearing will be perfect with that. Plus those pants make your butt look really good.”
I turn in the mirror and crane my neck in an attempt to check out my ass. I don’t have a particularly impressive body. I’m in pretty good shape from the walking I do but am not a fan of working out at a gym. My boobs are decent—neither very big nor very small—but my butt has a nice shape and is probably my best feature. “Okay. This will have to do because I have absolutely nothing else to change into.”
“You don’t need to change. You look gorgeous. Dan is for sure going to agree.”
I make wordless disapproving mumbles about her last comment, which makes me decidedly uncomfortable.
Savannah just laughs from where she’s propped on the edge of the small side chair in the corner of my bedroom.
I pick out some simple gold jewelry and put it on as I look at the clock. “I’m ready too early as usual. I always end up doing that.”
“Nothing wrong with being ready early.”
“Except now I have to wait for more than ten minutes without messing up my ensemble.” I smooth down my hair even though it’s always straight. My hair won’t curl to save its life.
“You’ll be fine.”
“You think so? Because I feel really weird and nervous about this whole thing.”
Savannah has been upbeat and encouraging since she came into my room to keep me company while I got ready, but her face sobers now. “You don’t have to do it, you know. If you’re genuinely uncomfortable, then apologize to Dan and bow out of it.”
“No. I’m not going to do that.” I sigh and finally turn away from the mirror. It’s just me looking back at me there anyway. “I still want to do it. I’m just... anxious.”
“That’s to be expected. Who would be comfortable in such a situation? But Dan’s so easygoing I think you’ll probably relax soon enough.”
“Yeah. I hope so.” I take a deep breath and let it out. Square my shoulders. “Okay. This is me. Ready for a fake date. Let’s go out and watch the game so I don’t start to second-guess my outfit.”
Savannah chuckles and gently pushes me out through the bedroom door. Sitting around the kitchen table are Jim, Esther, and Lance. They’re playing Scrabble, which is something they’ve done fairly often since I moved in last year.
I’ve never considered myself a game person, but I’ve played with them on more than one occasion. They’re all way better than I am, but it’s still fun to hang out with them.
This evening, Savannah instructed her husband to play both his hand and hers until she returned from talking to me, so she walks over now to inspect how well he’s done with her tiles. When she starts to offer some wry criticism, he chuckles and pulls her into his lap.
“Don’t think being all lovey-dovey is going to keep me from noticing that you’re currently forty-two points ahead of me,” she tells him in her typical lilting tone. “Do you expect me to believe that happened from no fault of your own?”
“You sadly bore the brunt of a few unfortunate tiles,” Lance says, his hazel eyes and mobile mouth both laughing warmly. He really is a very attractive man in a breezy, intelligent way. And he openly adores his wife.
I always believed Savannah was kind of like me. Smart, hardworking, attractive enough, but not one of those people perpetually favored by life. More often struggling than endowed with blessings. Some people are like that. Working hard to do little more than get by. I’ve always been that way, and I thought Savannah was too.
But she hit the jackpot in the husband department. I’m happy for her.
And a little bit jealous at the same time.
Maybe I’m bitter and pessimistic, but I prefer to call myself a realist. I know damn well that nothing so good is ever going to happen to me.
“Uh-huh,” Savannah says, leaning back into his embrace.
“Not my fault at all.”
“Of course it’s not.”
I smile and turn away, fighting against a pang of sharp sadness.
I don’t want Lance. And I don’t resent Savannah for finally getting something good after a life that hasn’t been easy.
But I’ve never known love like that, and I doubt I ever will.
Some people simply aren’t built for it. I’m one of those people.
I shake off my self-pity since I know perfectly well it accomplishes nothing. I have nothing to complain about after all. I have family who have very generously helped me out. I have a job with benefits that pays a reasonable amount for the required responsibilities. I have a college degree thanks to a scholarship that a lot of other people didn’t get. And I have plans for a secure future and a clear path to get there.
Plus I have had a windfall that basically fell from the sky. A large amount of money for doing very little.
I’ve been luckier than I dreamed of when I was a kid. I don’t need everything to be happy.
Thanks to my mental pep talk, I’m back to my normal practical frame of mind. I can watch the progress of the Scrabble game and smile about the teasing rivalry without feeling sorry for myself again.
In fact, I get so diverted that I’m surprised when I hear the doorbell ring.
“There he is,” Savannah says, looking up from the board with a smile at me. “Right on time.”
I flush for no good reason and go answer the door.
Dan is standing on the front stoop, wearing well-tailored gray trousers and an expensive blue button-down shirt. He’s smiling in a slightly self-deprecating way and holding a small bouquet of pretty poppies.
“Hey,” he says, handing me the flowers. “You look beautiful.”
My cheeks grow even warmer as I accept the bouquet. The flowers are distinct and unexpected and lovely in a wild, natural way. “Thank you. This is gorgeous. You really didn’t have to.”
“Of course I did.” His eyes had lowered briefly, but now he lifts his gaze slowly to meet mine. “We’re falling in love after all. Aren’t we?”
Shit, I have got to stop all this blushing. It’s ridiculous and not at all like me. “Uh, yeah. I guess we’re supposed to be. Come on in. I’ll put these in a vase so they stay nice.”
Dan comes in and greets the others in a relaxed, friendly manner. He asks about the progress of their Scrabble game while Savannah gives a pointed look at his clothes and then shoots me a victorious smile.
She was right about his outfit. And my own outfit matches his just right.
I arrange the poppies in a vase as I listen to the conversation. Jim asks Dan about his work, and then Esther asks where we’re going to eat dinner.
“Marco’s,” Dan answers.
“Oh, that’s my favorite restaurant!” Savannah’s face has brightened. “Have you been there, Vicky?”
“No, I haven’t. Where is it? I don’t think I’ve ever noticed it in town.”
“It’s not in town. It’s about a half hour away. Toward Charlotte.” Savannah is still sitting in Lance’s lap. She rubs her hands together. “If you bring home any leftovers, don’t expect them to make it to morning.”
I laugh at her teasing and set the flowers on the kitchen counter. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“Okay then.” Dan meets my eyes with a twitch of a smile. “Let’s do this.”
***
M ARCO’S IS AN ITALIAN restaurant with a warm, casual atmosphere. It’s every bit as delicious as Savannah claimed, and I eat as much of my pasta and bread as I can and have no room left for dessert.
Dan is good company, asking about my family and about how I liked my college and about why I’m interested in wildlife conservation. I answer him easily and honestly but mostly stick to the basics the way I always have. I don’t spill out a lot of personal information.
To anyone.
But Dan asks a lot of follow-up questions and I somehow end up telling him more than I intend. I tell him about how I basically took care of the house as a kid because my mom worked all the time and about how I didn’t have any friends in college because I was always studying or in labs or working. I tell him about all the activist causes I participated in during college—so many animals that need saving and people whose rights have been trampled. I can tell he wants to know more about Rick, but I steer the conversation away from that topic because it’s mortifying. And I don’t want to feel all of that this evening.
I’m almost surprised when Dan pays the check, and I glance at the time to discover it’s almost ten.
I have no idea how the time passed so quickly.
“We spent this whole time talking about me!” I exclaim.
He laughs softly. “What’s wrong with that?”
“You’ll think I’m a narcissist or something.”
“Vicky, you’re as far from a narcissist as it’s possible to be. Do you have any idea how hard it was to get you to tell me anything about yourself?”
That takes me aback. My lips part as I stare at him. “Was it painful and tedious?”
“No! Of course not. I wanted to get to know you more, and it was gratifying that I was able to learn as much as I was, despite your reserve.”
I frown. “I’m not that reserved, am I?”
“You’re a paradox,” he says, his expression mild and slightly amused as he gazes at me. “A mystery. You act bright and friendly and cheerful. Your smile really lights up. But I’m starting to think that’s mostly on the surface and your real self is hidden away somewhere.”
He’s right. He’s entirely right. And I have no idea how he figured that out about me so quickly. I shift in my seat uncomfortably and don’t say anything.
“So of course it’s not tedious. It feels like a challenge, and I’ve always been into those.” His eyes warm even more—like he might be flirting with me.
I don’t want him to flirt. I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to stand up in the face of that much charm. “Why even bother since we’re just doing this for practical reasons?”
“Why bother? Because I like people. And you’re a person. And we’re going to be thrown together a lot in the next few months. Why shouldn’t we get to know each other?”
I don’t have an answer to that because he’s right.
He’s entirely right.
“So anyway, thank you for having dinner with me. I had a good time talking with you.”
I swallow hard. “I had a good time too. Sorry if I’m kind of... kind of...”
“A challenge,” he finishes for me.
“Sure. We’ll go with that.” I laugh dryly, embarrassed and vaguely pleased at the same time. “I enjoyed dinner too, just so you know.”
“Good. Are you ready to go home now?”
“What else would we do?”
“Well, there’s a cool program at an observatory in Charlotte at eleven. It’s an astronomy kind of thing, so I thought you might be interested since you like science. It’s not wildlife, but it still looked interesting. I got us tickets just in case you wanted to do it, but it wasn’t expensive so no worries if you’re ready to head home.”
“Oh.” My heart is jumping, and I have to work not to show it on my face. “Oh, that sounds like fun. I love astronomy. But wouldn’t it be boring for you?”
“Of course not. I think it sounds fascinating, but even if I didn’t, I’d still be happy to go if you’d enjoy it.” He looks faintly confused, as if he can’t understand why anyone would feel differently.
He didn’t spend three years with Rick—who only ever chose to do what he himself preferred.
The difference in hanging out with someone not supremely selfish is startling and rattling, but I fight through it to smile at him gratefully. “Okay. I’d be happy to go. Thanks for thinking of it.”
***
T HE PROGRAM AT THE observatory is every bit as fascinating and unique as I could have hoped for. It’s also quite small, so there’s plenty of opportunity for questions and discussion with the astronomer who’s hosting it. I’m amazed Dan managed to find it. He must have been specifically hunting for science-related things to do on a Saturday evening.
I’m on a kind of high on the way home, stimulated intellectually and emotionally gratified. Dan appears to have enjoyed it too because he keeps talking about it on the drive home.
It takes an hour to get back to Green Valley from Charlotte, but the time passes quickly. It’s one thirty when we reach the house, but I’m not even tired.
“Thank you,” I say as he puts his midsized SUV into park in the driveway. “For this evening, I mean. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had such fun.”
“Yeah?” He pauses in the middle of taking off his seat belt.
“Yeah.”
“Good. I had a great time too.”
To remind myself of the reality of the situation, I say, “Pretty good for a fake date.”
He lets out a dry huff. “Exactly right.”
“Okay. Thanks again. So I’ll see you on Tuesday for lunch?”
“Yep. And you’re welcome again.”
I’m startled when Dan gets out of the car as I do. I don’t express my surprise, but I’m nonplussed as he walks me to the front door of the house.
I definitely wasn’t expecting that.
He smiles down at me as I get out my keys. I wait to see what he’ll say, but he doesn’t say anything.
For a moment, I’m sure—absolutely positive—that he’s going to kiss me.
Kiss me.
And there’s no way to deny that I want him to. My heart flutters, and I sway toward him without thinking.
He clears his throat and steps back. “Well, good night.”
“Good night.” Flustered at my embarrassing misread of the situation, I open the door and go in quickly, giving him a quick wave before I close the front door.
Then I let my breath out in a gush and relive the past few moments.
Surely he didn’t know what I was thinking.
I don’t express my real feelings on my face. I never have. He won’t know I was thinking he was going to kiss me. That I wanted him to. He won’t realize I was ever that silly.
Will he?
Ugh. I try to shake off the hot rush of mortification and breathe deeply to clear my mind.
It was fine. It has to be fine. Even he admitted he had trouble getting to know me and figuring out what I was thinking. He won’t know what I had in mind.
It was a private embarrassment.
And a good reminder not to let his charm and generosity confuse me about the reality of the situation.
We’re not in love. We’re not dating for real—no matter how much it feels like we are.
This is only for money. For both of us.
Professional. Like a job.
So I’m not going to fall for him, and he’ll never, ever fall for me.