10. Lily
10
Lily
When Orson drops me back off at the bakery after our trip to the city, Jasmine can’t help but ask about it. Her eyes are twinkling with curiosity when she says, “Well, are you going to tell me where the delightful Mr. Donovan whisked you off to in such a hurry?”
“Orson and I are now dating,” I say, trying to look as excited as I should.
“Oh, my Lord,” Jasmine squeals, throwing her arms around me and hugging me so tight I struggle for air.
When she finally releases me, she goes on, “Didn’t I tell you he liked you? You didn’t believe me, but I knew it.”
On the journey back from the city, I tried to come to terms with the fact that I was going to have to lie to everybody. It was as I was thinking about it that I wondered how long this marriage would have to last. When I asked Orson, his reply gave me some consolation.
“Once they sign my inheritance over to me, Lily, it will all be over. My birthday is in four months. After that, you’re free.”
Four months might not seem like a long time to a lot of people, but for someone who rarely lies like me, it’s going to feel like a lifetime.
“You did, Jasmine,” I say. “And you were right.”
“So, where did he take you?” Her delight is nearly palpable.
Another lie spills out of my mouth. “He took me to a beautiful restaurant in the city and asked me over a late lunch.”
Jasmine quivers with excitement for me while I stand here feeling like a complete fraud. But then I remind myself why I am doing this.
This is going to save the bakery and Jasmine’s job. You’re not hurting anybody.
That makes me feel a little better, and I grin, trying to ease myself into the role.
My colleague is as excited and delighted when Orson arrives the following evening to take me out again. Remembering our agreement to play our parts in public, I reach up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. I think it’s the right thing to do until I see Orson’s face.
His eyes are as wide as saucers, and the skin on his cheeks reddens.
“Oh, Lily!” Jasmine chuckles. “You’ve embarrassed the poor man.”
Had I? But looking at his reaction, it’s obvious that Jasmine’s deductions are correct.
I gasp, feeling like a complete idiot. “I’m so sor—”
“It’s fine,” he says, seeming to regain his composure. And with a quick smile in Jasmine’s direction, he takes my hand and leads me out of the bakery.
Eyes follow us as we walk down the main street of the town. While I know that is the whole point of this charade, it’s now my turn to feel embarrassed as heat rushes to my cheeks. It’s our first outing as a couple. I only hope things are going to feel easier as time goes on.
“I thought we agreed to hold hands?” Orson says after some time.
“And we are.” I lift our hands up as if I need to show him.
“And the kiss on the cheek?” He looks down at me, smirking.
“I thought it would sell it better to Jasmine. Did I do something wrong?”
Orson chuckles. “You worry too much, Lily.”
Over the next few days, word spreads like wildfire, and the regular customers who call into the bakery make a point of mentioning it. Most of them are kind comments, but when I see Cindy enter with her mouth cemented into a snarl, I know I’m going to hear something I won’t like.
“So, are you hoping he’ll save your bakery first if you get into his pants?” she quips once she’s paid for her goods. She tries really hard to make her remark sound lighthearted, but it was clearly a jibe.
I hear Jasmine gasp.
“You should wash your mouth out, Mrs. Caldwell,” Jasmine retorts. “What a wicked thing to say.”
Cindy puts on her sweetest smile. “Oh, Jasmine. I was only joking. Lily knows that—right, Lily?” Turning on her heels, she calls out a farewell and leaves.
Jasmine’s mouth is still hanging open from the remark, but I shake my head. “Don’t let her get to you,” I say calmly.
Only, beneath my thin veneer, I don’t feel calm at all. Maybe because Cindy’s remark hit a nerve. I mean, it’s the truth, right? Well, apart from the getting into Orson’s pants part.
“The woman is a disgrace,” Jasmine growls, clearly incensed. “In fact, that woman needs God.”
“I’m not sure he’d have her,” I quip back.
That breaks the tension, and Jasmine bursts into that wonderful laugh I love so much.
The next council meeting is a little awkward. They know that I know that they know, and yet, no one says a word. I watch as Orson tries to keep his face straight while giving them an update from sponsors and building contractors, which only makes it worse. Clearly, he finds this amusing. I, on the other hand, am mortified.
When we finally get into the car and travel back to the bakery, he can’t hold it in any longer.
“You’re like a bunch of kids,” he chuckles.
He doesn’t know it, and I would never tell him, but his deep, throaty laugh does something to me. I can’t explain it, but my stomach seems to do a somersault every time I hear it.
“Well, I wasn’t going to bring it up,” I counter.
“No. You just let the poor elephant sit in the room while everyone ignored him. And let’s face it, that room isn’t big enough for us, never mind the elephant.”
I can’t help laughing now as a ridiculous image flies into my mind. “I’d sooner have the elephant than the dizzying heights of your office,” I say when I stop laughing.
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“I do. A long way down to inevitable death,” I quip.
He chuckles again and shakes his head. “You do know that the glass is two inches thick? The only thing getting through it might be that darned elephant.”
“But how? The elephant’s in the library.”
This sets us both off into hysterics, and we’re still laughing when we get to the bakery.
As he always does, Orson jumps out of the car and strides around to my side, opening my door for me. He offers his hand, and I take it, letting him pull me from my seat.
For a second, we smile, gazing at each other. It’s an unusual moment and something I definitely haven’t felt before. I’m nearly sure Orson feels it too because he physically shakes his head and seems to break out of whatever the heck it was.
“I’ll see you soon,” he says.
“Sure,” I answer too quickly. “Goodnight.”
He strolls back to his side of the car and smiles over the roof. “Goodnight, Lily.”
The weekend flies by, and on Tuesday, Orson sends me a text.
Don’t forget to ask Jasmine to cover you on Saturday. And when you’re packing your bag, bring something light.
What do you mean, light? I text back.
A swimsuit, for a start.
A swimsuit? Where the heck is he taking me?
Where are we going? I text again.
You’ll find out when you get there. He adds a smiley face to the end of his text.
When I ask Jasmine to cover the shop on Saturday, I don’t plan on telling her that I’m going away with Orson. But she’s a smart woman and figures it out in a nanosecond.
“Where’s he taking you?” she asks with the same excitement she’s displayed every time she’s talked about our relationship.
“That’s what I would love to know,” I reply, bagging the unsold bread and pastries as the day draws to a close.
“Oh, it’s a surprise. How sweet.”
Strangely enough, I hadn’t thought about it like that. I know it might seem a bit weird, but then, this whole situation is still weird. But as I think about Jasmine’s words, I realize that Orson could have just emailed me with the notification of wherever he had booked. He didn’t have to come with me. Nor did he have to make it a surprise.
It is sweet, and I feel bad that I haven’t even acknowledged that.
Later that evening, when I’m alone in my apartment, I send him a text. I haven’t thanked you for what you’re doing for me this weekend yet. So, this is just to say that I’m really grateful for all your efforts.
He answers almost immediately. There is no need to thank me, Lily. If you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s YOU who is doing ME the biggest favor.
In a way, I don’t have the capacity to compare our situations. I’ve never had more than a couple of hundred dollars in the bank. That’s the reality of running a business.
I can’t begin to imagine what it must be like to have billions. I mean, I know he doesn’t have billions of dollars in the bank. A lot of his wealth is in assets, like his cars—of course he has more than one—and the helicopter, and his apartments, and all the rest of the stuff he invests in.
But I’m a small business owner. My bakery is my life. I’ve no idea what having a few thousand looks like, never mind the concept of inheriting a multi-billion-dollar business. I’m going to guess it’s a pretty big deal.
Well, isn’t it one of the reasons you agreed to this fake relationship in the first place?
Yes, but my own selfish reasons came first. I’m not just doing it for me. I’m doing it for Dad. For his memory. So his legacy can continue, at least for a little while longer. And maybe Orson doesn’t understand that. I don’t really know; we haven’t talked about it. But if he doesn’t, that’s okay. I don’t expect him to.
But for me, we’re both on equal footing where favors are concerned. His reasons are no more important than mine and vice versa.
Friday morning comes around pretty quickly, and I can feel my nerves starting to tighten in my stomach. Good nerves. Excited nerves. Jasmine was determined to get rid of me and made sure I told Orson I’d be ready before lunch. Something I’ve thanked her for a million times.
When I see the Mercedes pulling up outside, I glance at her and give her a nervous grin.
“Go and enjoy yourself, Lily,” my wonderful friend says. “There’s no one I know who deserves it more.”