13. Alex
13
Alex
After Dara leaves, I take some time to look around the house and realize that she’s right. It did look like a bit of a man cave before. The flowers and plants definitely give it a woman’s touch, which, let’s face it, is the basis for this whole farce: a family home.
I had bought the ring not long after she agreed to be my fake fiancée. I had no idea that it would fit. Thankfully, while a little loose, it sits on her finger just fine. Seeing her concern about it getting ruined, I also had been forced to lie and tell her it isn’t real.
But of course it’s real. We need to sell this relationship, and I don’t want something as stupid as a fake ring blowing our cover.
When I slid it onto her slender finger, I couldn’t help noticing the flush of her face. And then she looked up at me with those blue eyes, like pools of the ocean, and for a second, I found myself lost in them.
There have been a few similar moments, as I think about it. I need to snap out of this. This is a business arrangement, nothing more.
The rest of the week flows pretty much the same. Thankfully, Dara doesn’t arrive early on any of the following mornings, which saves me having to jump out of the shower and run to open the door in a semi-naked state. Not that I care, but clearly, she was wholly embarrassed.
By the time Friday comes, I’m beginning to feel a bit nervous. I mean, I’m the one who suggested we need to go out into this town so people can see that we’re together, but I have no idea how this is going to go.
I choose smart-casual with a pair of gray dress pants and a light blue shirt that I leave open at the neck. It’s far too warm for a jacket. With a final glance in the mirror, I skip downstairs, jump into the car, and make the ten-minute journey to Dara’s house.
I knock on the door, and a few seconds later, I find myself swallowing back a sharp intake of breath. I’ve seen her in chef’s whites. I’ve seen her in a checkered shirt and jeans. What I have not seen her in is a soft, light-blue summer dress that grazes her skin. It sits just above the knee, highlighting her long legs and firm calves in the small-heeled sandals.
Blonde hair hangs lusciously down her shoulders, and while she’s not caked in makeup like so many of my clients, she wears just enough to highlight the blue of her eyes and the full lips of her mouth.
Okay. And now, I’m staring.
Snap out of it, man!
“Hey,” I say, my greeting so delayed it looks like I’m glitching.
“Hey,” she says back, a knowing smile dancing at the corner of her mouth. Yep. I’m busted. “You look great.”
“Thanks. You look…” I hesitate because I don’t really know how to describe how she looks apart from stunningly gorgeous. I think that’s too much, so I turn it down a bit and say, “beautiful.”
“Thank you. It’s nice to get out of the chef’s whites and air out my wardrobe every so often.”
“You should do it more often. You don’t have to wear your uniform all the time, you know,” I say. Though I have to wonder if that suggestion is more for my benefit than hers. “Are you ready?” I offer an elbow.
Dara links her arm into mine and we walk down the path to my car. “This is going to be one interesting night,” she sighs.
“It’ll take some time, but they'll get used to it,” I reply, feeling like I have to say something reassuring.
“Well, they’ll certainly have something to talk about for the next week or two, so if you feel your ears burning…” she trails off.
When I open the car door, Dara elegantly slides inside. A second or two later, I’m folding my far larger frame in beside her. I pull on my belt, and then reach across and take hold of her hand.
Dara, clearly not expecting it, jumps a little.
“I swear, I’m not contagious,” I quip with a smile.
“Sorry, I just wasn’t ready.”
I’m a little bit concerned. To pull this off, we actually have to look like we’re together. If Dara flinches every time I go near her, people are going to talk, and I can see me getting chased out of this town with pitchforks.
“Listen,” I say, looking at her kindly, “I know this is weird. It’s weird for me too. But we have to convince everyone we meet that we’re together.”
“I know,” she nods. “I’ll do better. I promise.”
When we arrive at Joe’s Diner, I can feel every eye on us as we walk to our table. Beth is there and throws her arms around Dara like they haven't seen each other in months. She then turns to me and greets me with that authentic, bubbly smile.
“Hello, Doctor Bennett.”
“Hello, Beth. Nice to see you again.”
She disappears while we peruse the menu. I could go for the steak, but I have this knowing feeling that it’ll be pretty subpar, given the fact that I stole the chef who made such a great one last time I was here.
A few minutes later, Beth returns with her notepad and pen poised for action. “Have you decided?” she says, beaming a smile.
“What are you having, darling?” I say, looking across the table at Dara.
Beth’s eyes widen and move from me to Dara and back again.
“Darling?” she says, looking completely astonished
Dara looks a bit nervous when she gazes up at Beth. “Yes, I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet. Alex proposed.” She waves her left hand, showing Beth the ring.
I didn’t know that the friendly waitress’s eyes could get any wider, but apparently they can, and as her whole body quakes, I fear that Beth is on the verge of internally combusting with excited delight.
“Oh, Dara,” she squeals. “This is so amazing. I can’t believe it.”
I can’t help the smile that lines my face. Partly because I don’t think I’ve seen someone over the age of twenty express their excitement quite so openly, and partly because I just sense that Beth is as genuine a person as they come.
Dara is smiling broadly now and looking up at her friend. “Thanks, Beth.”
But as the excitement wanes and Beth comes down from her euphoria, she looks at the two of us. “Well, you certainly didn’t waste any time.”
And there it is. The doubt and suspicion we’re likely to get from just about everybody. I sit back and let Dara do the talking. She knows these people far better than I do.
“I have known Alex for years. It’s not like we just met. And over the last few weeks of getting to know each other,” she reaches over, takes my hand, and looks at me with such tender affection my stomach flips, “we realized that we both want the same thing.”
While I’m struggling to separate real from pretense, Dara’s words seem to satisfy Beth. Then again, with the performance she’s giving, I can’t imagine anyone would not believe her. Even me.
Eventually, Beth takes our order and then disappears leaving us alone once more. Dara still has hold of my hand and I don’t want her to let go, but once Beth is out of sight, she pulls her hand back across the table.
“Good job,” I say, still a little unnerved from what just happened.
“My stomach was in my throat,” Dara replies. “This is harder than I thought it was going to be.”
“Well, you convinced me,” I say jokingly.
She holds my gaze across the table for the longest moment. There’s an intensity in her eyes that makes me feel like we’re the only two people in the room. It’s intense but not unpleasant.
She then drops her gaze and straightens her cutlery.
As the evening plays out, pretty much the same scenario happens over and over again. Dara certainly wasn’t wrong. Everywhere we go, we bump into someone she knows. The same dialogue plays out, and practically word for word, she repeats the same thing, over and over.
By the end of the evening, I’m sure she’s sick of saying the same lines. I’m sure sick of hearing them. But this evening was important, and as we travel back in the car, I tell her why.
“Jack Norton is a savvy businessman. If he’s going to agree to this venture, he’s going to do his homework. He might not speak to a single person in Riverdale, but what if he happens to stop by on his way to my house, and mentions me and my fiancée? And what happens if no one has the first clue about what he’s talking about?”
“I get it,” Dara says. “Just please tell me I don’t have to do that again.”
I glance across the car with a half-smile. “You did great tonight, Dara. I’m sorry you’ve had to lie to people you’ve known all your life.”
“Yes, that was the hardest part.”
“But remember what I said. We’re not doing any harm. No one’s going to get hurt.”
“It still feels wrong,” she counters.
“I know.”
When we reach her house, I round the car, open the passenger door, and watch her elegantly climb out. I then follow her down the narrow path that leads to her front door.
“As guilty as you feel,” I say, “I still had a really good time tonight. There are some good people in this town.”
She tilts her head and gives me a look. “It’s not that I didn’t have a good time. I did. In fact, getting to know you a bit better makes this easier.”
“You mean I’m not just a selfish billionaire anymore?” I smirk.
She rolls her eyes. “I’ve already apologized for that.”
“I know,” I say lightly. “Just teasing you about it is fun.”
“For you, maybe.”
We stand there for a minute, neither of us speaking, and I find myself lingering and not wanting to leave. Tonight, I had seen Dara in a new light. It was obvious that everyone she met respected her. There were a few comments made of how sad they were that she hadn’t made in it the city, to which Dara had swiftly changed the subject. But I saw tonight, how much a part of Riverdale she truly is.
“Well, I suppose I ought to get going,” I say eventually. “Again, thank you for tonight, Dara.”
She nods. “You’re welcome.”
As an afterthought, I say, “You can skip coming over to prepare breakfast tomorrow. Eating so late tonight, I won’t be hungry. Just come over to make lunch.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “I’m certain. See you tomorrow.”
I leave her at the door and stride back to the car. Jumping in, I start the engine and make the short journey back to my place. But even in that short trip, I find myself feeling a little unnerved.
Tonight was supposed to be about showcasing our fake relationship. But as I think about it and recall the fun we had together; I can’t seem to pinpoint any part of it that didn’t feel real.