Chapter 6
FREYA
The fresh air hits my face as Ben and I step out of the restaurant. I immediately feel some of the tension from dinner start to drain away. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much, and my brain feels slightly fried from keeping track of all the details of our fake relationship.
But underneath it all, there’s a knot of dread in my stomach that I can’t ignore. I screwed up. Big time.
“That went well,” Ben declares, loosening his tie as we walk down the sidewalk. “Really well. They adored you.”
“They’re sweet people.” I adjust my purse strap, the weight of guilt settling heavy on my shoulders. The moment we’re out of earshot of the establishment, I can’t hold it in anymore. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? You were incredible in there.”
We walk in silence for a moment. The sounds of the city surround us. Distant traffic. Muffled music from a bar down the street. The click of my heels on the pavement. I recognize I need to address what happened, but I’m not sure how to start.
“The wedding,” I blurt out, stopping on the sidewalk and turning to face him. “I gave them a date. July. God, Ben, I’m such an idiot.” I pause. “I understand you were probably hoping this would all be over after tonight, but when Marnie got so excited about the ceremony, I panicked.”
His expression is carefully neutral. I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He stops walking, too, his hands sliding into his pockets.
“It’s okay,” he responds, but there’s a tightness around his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’ll fix it.”
“How?”
For the first time tonight, he appears uncertain. “I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll tell them we need to postpone due to work commitments. Or family issues. Something believable.”
But I can see resignation creeping into his face. He understands as well as I do that postponing a ceremony indefinitely after getting Red and Marnie so excited about it will raise red flags. They’ll see right through any excuse he comes up with.
“Ben,” I state quietly, “you realize they won’t buy that, right?” My voice gets stronger. “Red specifically mentioned he doesn’t trust men who can’t commit. If you postpone the ceremony, especially after how happy they were tonight, they’re going to wonder what’s really going on.”
His jaw tightens. “So what are you suggesting?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Maybe we should go through with it.”
He stares at me like I’ve suggested we rob a bank. “Go through with what?”
“The wedding. A real ceremony.” I take a deep breath, surprised by my own audacity. “I got us into this mess by giving them a date. The least I can do is help you see it through.”
“Freya, you can’t be serious about this.”
“Why not?” I start walking again, my heels clicking decisively on the sidewalk.
“We’ve already sold them on the engagement.
A ceremony is the logical next step. Besides, what’s the alternative?
Call them up and mention we’ve had a change of heart?
That we’re postponing the wedding indefinitely? They’ll see right through that.”
Ben catches up with me in a few quick strides. “You’re actually suggesting we get married.”
“I’m suggesting we have a wedding ceremony. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
I pause, considering this. “Well, we’ll need to make it legal for appearances’ sake, but we can get divorced quietly afterward.” I shrug. “People do it all the time, right?”
The words sound so casual coming out of my mouth. Like I’m discussing weekend plans instead of proposing to fake-marry my best friend. But underneath the bravado, my heart is racing.
“How quietly?” Ben asks.
“I don’t know. Six months? A year?” I gesture vaguely. Does it really matter? “However long it takes for the business agreement to be solidly established and for people to stop paying attention to your personal life.”
Ben is quiet for a long moment. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. He’s weighing the pros and cons, calculating risks and benefits, doing what he always does when faced with a big decision.
“It would have to be convincing,” he states finally. “If we’re going to do this, we have to go all out. Red and Marnie will expect a real ceremony, with all the trimmings.”
“We can do that. We’ll keep it small but elegant.”
“No.” Ben stops walking again. When I turn to observe him, there’s a determined expression on his face that I recognize. It’s his deal-making face. The one that’s made him a billionaire. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Money is no object.”
“Ben, you don’t need to—”
“Freya, think about it.” His voice gets more intense.
“This isn’t only about fooling Red and Marnie anymore.
If we’re having a ceremony, people will expect photos, coverage, and social media posts.
My PR team will want to use it to improve my image.
Everything has to be perfect, or the whole thing falls apart. ”
He’s right. I understand it. Once we cross this line, there’s no going back to simple dinner theater. This will be a full-scale production with hundreds of moving parts and countless opportunities for everything to go wrong.
“Okay,” I respond, because what else can I say? I’m the one who got us into this. “But I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. This is my fault.”
“Actually,” Ben declares, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth, “I do owe you something. What do you want in return for this?”
“In return?”
“You’re agreeing to plan and participate in a fake ceremony to save my business agreement.” He spreads his hands. “That’s above and beyond the call of friendship duty. What can I do for you?”
I consider this as we start walking again. What do I want? The honest answer is complicated and involves feelings I’m not ready to examine too closely. But the practical answer is easier.
“A honeymoon,” I declare.
“A honeymoon?”
“A really nice one.” The idea is gaining momentum in my mind as I speak. “If I’m going through with a fake ceremony, I want a fake honeymoon to go with it. Somewhere I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Where?”
“Japan.” The word comes out breathlessly. “I’ve wanted to visit Japan since I took that art history class in college. The temples, the gardens, the way they think about beauty and simplicity. I’ve dreamed about seeing it in person.”
His smile widens. “Japan, it is. Two weeks in Japan, five-star hotels, first-class flights, whatever you want.”
“Really?”
“Really. It’s the least I can do.” He pauses. “Freya, thank you for this. You really don’t need to do it, though. We can go to Japan without—”
“No, it’s settled.” I nod at him. “It’s okay. I don’t have anything to lose. It’s not like I’m dating anyone right now.”
He nods and gazes down. His expression is unreadable.
We’ve reached his car now. A sleek black sedan that probably costs more than I make in two years. Ben opens the passenger door for me, and as I slide into the leather seat, I’m struck by the surreal nature of what we just agreed to.
I’m going to marry my best friend.
It’s fake, of course. A business arrangement disguised as a romantic gesture. But still. We’re going to stand up in front of our families and friends and promise to love each other forever, understanding it’s all a lie.
“Hey,” Ben mentions as he starts the engine. “I think we should establish some ground rules.”
“Ground rules?”
“For the marriage. And the honeymoon.” He adjusts the rearview mirror. “Just so we’re both clear on what this is and what it isn’t.”
My stomach flutters nervously. “What kind of ground rules?”
“Well, for starters, no catching feelings.”
The words come out so matter-of-factly that it takes me a moment to process them. When I do, I let out a laugh that sounds more forced than I intended.
“Catching feelings? What are we, teenagers?”
“You understand what I mean.” Ben glances at me as he pulls into traffic. “This is a business arrangement. We’re friends doing each other a favor. We can’t let it get complicated.”
“Right. Of course.” I force another laugh. “Because that would be ridiculous. Us, catching feelings for each other? We’ve been friends for a million years. If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now.”
“Exactly.”
I work to swallow the lump in my throat. “Good.”
“Good. So we’re in agreement.”
“Absolutely. No catching feelings. Strictly business.” I hold out my hand toward him. “Should we shake on it?”
Ben takes his eyes off the road long enough to shake my hand. His fingers are warm and slightly rough against mine. “Agreement.”
But as I settle back in my seat, watching the city lights blur past the window, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve made a promise I’m not going to be able to keep.
The truth is complicated. I’ve been halfway in love with Ben since I was a teenager.
I’ve spent years carefully managing those feelings, keeping them locked away in a part of my heart I pretend doesn’t exist. I’ve dated other men, built a life that doesn’t revolve around him, and convinced myself that what I feel is just the afterglow of a teenage crush.
But tonight changed something.
Sitting next to him in that restaurant, watching him smile at Red and Marnie’s stories, feeling his hand in mine even though I understood it was for show. Tonight, those carefully buried feelings started clawing their way back to the surface.
And now I’ve agreed to marry him. Fake or not. I’m going to wear a white dress and walk down an aisle toward him. I’m going to promise to love him forever, and even though the words will be lies, part of me will mean every single one.
We’re going to go to Japan together. Just the two of us. We’re going to share hotel rooms and romantic dinners and all the intimacy of a real honeymoon, while pretending that none of it means anything.
“You okay over there?” Ben asks. I realize I’ve been quiet for too long.
“Just thinking about everything we need to do. Planning a ceremony in two months is going to be insane.”
“We’ll hire a wedding planner. The best one in Chicago.” He switches lanes smoothly. “Money really isn’t an issue.”
“If you say so.” I lean back against the headrest, suddenly exhausted. “Ben?”
“Yeah?”
“What if people figure it out? What if someone realizes we’re faking it?”
“They won’t. We’re good at this, remember? Tonight proved that.”
“Tonight was dinner. A ceremony is bigger.” I pause. “More complicated. More chances for things to go wrong.”
“Then we’ll have to be extra careful.” He glances at me again. There’s something reassuring in his expression. “We can do this, Freya. I understand it seems crazy, but we can pull it off.”
I want to believe him. I want to believe that we can go through with this elaborate charade without destroying everything we’ve built together and separately over the years.
But deep down, I’m terrified that the ground rules we just established are going to be the first casualties of this beautiful disaster we’re walking into.
No catching feelings, we declared.
As if feelings were something you could control with contracts and handshakes and rational decision-making.
As if the heart ever listened to the head when it came to matters of love.
Ben pulls up in front of my building. I realize with a start that the evening is over. In a moment, I’ll go upstairs to my apartment and try to process everything that happened tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll start planning a fake ceremony that’s starting to feel more real than anything else in my life.
“Thank you,” I mention as he puts the car in park. “For dinner, for everything.”
“Thank you for saving me. Again.”
“What are friends for?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. We should start making lists of everything we need to do.”
“Lists. Right.”
I get out of the car and wave goodbye. I watch his taillights disappear into the traffic. Then I walk up to my apartment, pour myself a very large glass of wine, and try to convince myself that agreeing to fake-marry my best friend is the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
It’s not working.
But I’ve committed now. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from watching Ben succeed in business, it’s that you don’t back down from an agreement once you’ve shaken hands on it.
Even if that agreement involves walking down an aisle toward the one person who could break your heart just by smiling at you.