Chapter Ten
Willa
“Oh, Mommy looks stunning,” Gracie said, turning Adelaide to face me. “Doesn’t Mommy look gorgeous?”
I pressed a hand to my stomach, feeling the compression band across my middle through the woven chiffon material of my dress.
It was a somewhat simple black gown that skirted the floor, with a gathered, banded waist and a neckline that probably plunged too much, given my concerns about my swollen breasts.
But it was the dress that felt the most comfortable.
After many hours trying them on and getting more and more upset in the process, I decided to take my chances.
And buy a purse that was dainty but still large enough to keep a manual pump in.
It would be fine.
That had been my mantra for over a week.
It was going to be fine.
Four or five hours of my life, then it was over, and things were back to my new normal for a while.
“How are you feeling?” Gracie asked.
“Nervous.”
“Because of work people or because of the hot handyman in a tux?”
“It’s mostly work. I know how scrutinized I am going to be tonight. I’m just going to try to focus on spending time with actual clients and not coworkers.”
“Solid plan. And try to have a little fun! Eat all the food. Maybe slow dance. A few drinks.”
“I’m nurs—”
“You have a whole freezer full of extra milk. You can have a few drinks, pump and dump, and still barely touch your backup.”
“Maybe. We’ll see.”
“And, please, don’t worry about Adelaide. I promise she is in good hands with us. And your mom is dropping over to love on her a little bit too. We have her handled.”
“I don’t doubt you for a minute,” I assured her as I reached out to touch my baby’s little toes. “It’s just going to be so weird to be away from her for so long.”
“A few hours. Not long. And maybe it’s a good thing. For both of you. Something we can try to pencil into your schedule. A Mommy Mental Health Day or something.”
“Maybe. Here and there.” It would be nice to get back to the salon or a Pilates class once in a while. But I wasn’t in a rush, either. Just something to keep in mind. “How long do I have?”
“Owen will probably be here in half an hour or so.”
“Okay. I’m going to pump one more time before he gets here.”
I was being paranoid, but this event was too important to leak through my dress and have to leave early.
I was just putting the milk in the fridge when I heard the bell.
But Gracie was faster than I was, rushing to the door and gushing over how well Owen cleaned up.
And she wasn’t wrong.
Owen stepped into the foyer.
I was of the mind that when it came to a tux, men fell into two categories: they wore it or it wore them.
Owen was wearing that tux.
It was a nice one, too. Well-fitted, pressed, and his bowtie was perfectly straight.
“Wow,” he said, his gaze sweeping over me.
My heart swooped.
“Right? She’s stunning,” Gracie agreed. “And he is so handsome, isn’t he?”
“He is,” I agreed, then turned to grab my clutch so I could shoot an ‘I’m gonna get you for that’ look at Gracie, which she happily ignored. “I will have my phone,” I reminded her, but when I opened my clutch, the manual pump was taking up the whole thing.
“Need me to take it?” Owen asked.
“Do you mind?” I held it out to him.
He plucked it from my hand, and the brush of his fingers sent a shiver up my arm. When my gaze flicked up to his, I found him already watching me.
Did he feel it too?
Was it just me and my touch-starved self?
“Thanks,” I said, curling my hand.
“Stand close, you two. I want to get a picture!” Gracie said.
“What are we, going to prom?” I asked, getting a little chuckle out of Owen.
“I have a feeling she’s not going to let us leave until we do what she wants,” he said.
“You’re not wrong,” I agreed.
“Okay. In front of the window,” Gracie instructed.
Owen and I shared a look but fell in line.
“Scoot closer,” Gracie demanded.
I was still rolling my eyes when Owen’s arm slipped around my lower back, curled into my hip, then pulled me against his side.
I was still looking up at him, a mix of what had to be shock and pleasure on my face, when I heard the shutter of my cousin’s camera.
For a second, I forgot this was pretend.
His arm was warm and solid around me, his hand resting at my waist with just enough pressure to make me acutely aware of every inch of him beside me. I could smell his cologne, something clean and warm that made me want to lean into his neck and breathe him in.
This was dangerous.
Not because anyone else would believe we were a couple. That was the whole point. But because I almost did. At least for the few seconds that I stood there with his arm around me and his eyes on mine.
“And one more looking at me.” We obliged. “And a smile!”
“That’s the car,” I said when I heard the doorbell. “Literally saved by the bell,” I murmured to Owen. “Please call if you have any questions. Anything. Or if you need—”
“I’ve got this. You go before you’re late.”
I wanted to go give my baby a million kisses.
But she was right; I didn’t want to be late.
“Where’s Tuna tonight?” I asked as he held open the door for me.
“Home. He had an extra-long run with me earlier, so he’s knocked out for a good, long while. He’ll be just fine.” He closed the door and came around to sit beside me. “So, is there anything I should know as your significant other?”
“Well, I think you know a lot about me in passing,” I said, then, with a smirk, “You might be the longest relationship I’ve ever had.”
“Your broken house worked in your favor just this once.”
“Okay. I need to confess something,” I said, wincing.
“Sure.”
“I may have allowed my work to believe I am in a serious relationship with, well…”
“Adelaide’s father.”
“Yes.”
“Because you didn’t want any comments about being a single mother. Or to have your boss think you would somehow be less reliable than your counterparts because you don’t have someone at home to pick up the slack.”
“That’s exactly it. They already had some… thoughts about women at the company who got pregnant. And those were women with partners. And I needed to have my stability for my daughter. So I… came up with a story.”
Saying it out loud made the whole thing seem even more ridiculous.
I’d spent months maintaining a lie that had seemed so simple when I’d first told it. I had a partner. We were happy. We were excited about our baby. End of story.
Except now I was sitting beside a man I’d only just realized I was attracted to, preparing to introduce him to the people I’d been lying to.
And he was being remarkably calm about all of it.
“I know it sounds crazy,” I said.
“It sounds like you were scared.”
The simplicity of his answer caught me off guard.
I looked over at him.
“I was.”
“I get that. You gotta do what you gotta do to protect your livelihood. So, what do I need to know about my cover story?”
“I’ve never given details, honestly. I guess some part of me worried this kind of thing could happen. So, if you’re comfortable, you can just be yourself. If not, come up with another identity. But keep your first name.”
“I’m all right with using who I am if you are. Keeps things easier.”
“Perfect.”
“How long have we been seeing each other?”
“Well, obviously longer than it took to make Adelaide. But I figure being vague might be best so I don’t screw that up down the line. I mean, I don’t necessarily plan to lie forever. That wouldn’t be possible with how—”
“Hey, anytime you need a pretend spouse, I’m sure I have the time.”
“That’s sweet. Though, I don’t think you know what you’re signing yourself up for. Not to gossip, but my coworkers aren’t, well—”
“People who would look down on you for having a baby sound pretty awful. Feel free to gossip away about them. They wouldn’t hesitate about you.”
Oof.
That was harsh but also painfully true.
“They’re not very kind. Especially toward and about women. It’s definitely a boy’s club over there.”
“It must piss them off that your clients only want to work with you.”
“It does. They would never admit it, but you can tell. If they can find any fault in me or my performance, they would be quick to get rid of me.”
If they only knew…
Nope.
No.
I wasn’t going to let myself think about that.
That hadn’t only been life-altering; it could easily become career-ruining.
And, yes, I had savings. I had a very nice house I could sell and bank the money, move into a smaller place, and get a new job.
I had wealthy parents and a rich grandfather.
I had people who could take care of me if the worst thing happened.
But my pride didn’t want that.
I wanted to be able to keep the home I’d fallen in love with, raise my daughter in it, create memories there. I wanted to keep building my investment portfolio, afford private schools when the time came.
Would I love to leave my company eventually? Of course. But right now, I needed stability. So the truth could not come out.
Owen was going to help with that. Whether he knew it or not.
“One day, you will open your own firm. Until then, you can still dream and plan.”
“Once I am getting enough sleep again.”
“It’s good to have goals, but also the comfort of what is familiar to fall back on while you dream.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what is the venue? A gallery?”
“It used to be. I mean, I don’t think the Chrises knew a Vermeer from a Warhol, and my boss lives in a brutalist-style home, so it’s completely empty of art. But they like to appear to be into the same things a lot of the clients are: art, golf, the opera, classical music. Do you play golf?”
“I think I prefer my sports to be more… active. To be fair, I’ve never played golf.”
“Here we are,” I said as the venue loomed just ahead of us.
“A library?” Owen asked.
“Yep. It’s actually a really gorgeous location. You’ll see.”
We pulled up to the curb then, and Owen slid out and offered his hand.
His hand closed around mine, rough and warm, and for a strange second I had the overwhelming sensation of two completely different parts of my life colliding.