18. Fake Fiancé Benefit
18
FAKE FIANCé BENEFIT
Elodie
Repeat after me.
I will not flirt.
I will not say naughty things.
I won’t even think about sex.
A few dozen mental reminders on the walk over and my mind is completely innocent. Yes, Angel Elodie is in the house, turning on the block of The Escape, walking up the steps, crossing the courtyard and smiling.
That neon sign looks so good.
Gage is here, positioning it just so. His shirt rides up, revealing a sliver of his toned, trim abs. My pulse pounds, and I take a moment to savor the view. Sure, I saw him shirtless the night of our date. But that only made me want more.
Now I’m getting a tease again, and the devil is shoving the angel to the back of the line. With his arms stretched up, his ink is in my crosshairs and I can’t look away. I am officially a tattoo girl. I want to touch them. Trace them. Kiss them. “What’s all the ink for?” I ask as I reach him.
With a casual glance back at me, he flashes a smile, then glances down at his arm as if he’s just noticed the artwork climbing from his wrist up his forearm, a lotus in the center. “All sorts of things,” he says, a little playful. He didn’t get the do not flirt memo, or perhaps he’s tossed it in the trash can.
After checking the sign’s secure, he lowers his arms, then points to the fine black linework of the lotus on his right forearm. “This one is for?—”
“Change!”
The bright, soprano voice comes out of nowhere. I whip my head in the direction of a girl with twin brown braids and bright green eyes heading toward us. “Like when bad things happen and it reminds you that you can be stronger,” the girl adds coming from the direction of the lobby and probably the restrooms.
I’m instantly charmed. “I love that. I believe that. Do you…Eliza?” I ask, since she’s got to be Gage’s daughter.
“Yes. I’m Eliza. And I believe it because the other week, I wanted another chocolate bar, but my dad didn’t give me one, so that was a bad thing. But my uncles Zane and Maddox got me an ice cream sundae with that chocolate freeze-y hard shell instead.”
I laugh at the lotus of an eleven-year-old’s life, and at the analogy that doesn’t quite add up. “Confession: I love chocolate freeze-y hard shells.”
“Me too,” Gage says, then runs a hand down her hair. “Eliza, this is Elodie, my business partner.”
“Your fiancée,” she corrects, nudging him with an elbow, not surreptitiously at all.
With a grateful smile, he says, “Yes. My fiancée. And Elodie, this is Eliza, my chocolate-loving daughter.”
“Nice to meet you,” I say, sticking out a hand.
Eliza takes it, giving me a firm handshake. “I looked you up before your date. And I thought you were super fancy, and my dad is not. But that’s okay. Not everyone has to be fancy.”
“That is very, very true,” I say.
“I’m here helping today,” she says, then stage whispers, “Don’t let him trick you into thinking he hung the sign. I did.”
I turn toward the pink words in neon. They’re right next to the door, a bright, bold, romantic invitation. “You did a great job.”
“It arrived early,” Gage explained. “I wasn’t expecting it till tomorrow. But Loretta called as I was picking up Eliza, so we came over here together.”
“I didn’t come over for the sign,” Eliza corrects. “I came for the chocolate since I can’t be here on opening night.”
I nod sadly. “That’s true. You’d have to be twenty-one.”
She sighs, the aggrieved sound of a child’s disappointment. “Yeah. But maybe you can open one for kids?”
“Do it,” a familiar voice calls from behind me. I spin around at the sound of Amanda. I didn’t know she was coming here. She’s with her friend Ally, and they’re giving serious twin vibes, with both of them in cropped tops and hoodies sloping off their shoulders, Amanda’s revealing pale skin, Ally’s showing olive skin.
“What are you doing here?” I ask curiously.
“Way to say hi, Els,” Amanda says, her tone dry, as it often is.
“I wasn’t expecting you and…hi.”
“We were walking home from school and we wanted to check it out. Then get a boba. Is that cool?”
“Of course it’s cool,” I say, then smile at Ally. “Good to see you.”
“How’s everything going, Elodie?” she asks.
Before I can answer, Eliza pipes up with, “I love boba! Can I get a boba? Since there’s no chocolate at the shop.”
“Boba on me,” a new voice chimes in—a warm, friendly tone, accompanied by the confident sound of fancy men’s shoes clicking on stone.
Hello, whiplash. Gage and I swivel in unison to see Felix striding across the courtyard from the hotel. “This must be the happy family,” he says, then beams at the girls.
Oh, hell.
We never trained for this. We never planned a happy family moment. Ally peers around in her glasses. She looks thoroughly confused. But then Amanda drops an arm around Eliza’s shoulders and squeezes hard. “We’re totally going to be sisters,” she says to the younger girl.
Gage’s lips curve up in an appreciative grin for Amanda’s improv skills.
Not to be outdone, his daughter adds, “I’ve always wanted a sister.”
“Way more than a brother,” Amanda says.
Ally looks so lost. “Amanda?”
“You have a sister too,” Amanda says to her friend with a big, bright, go-along-with-it smile.
“Yeah, I do. I just didn’t reali?—”
“And Eliza is basically going to be my stepsister,” Amanda butts back in before Ally can say she didn’t realize . “Since they’re getting married.” Amanda points to Gage, then me. “Hey, Els, when’s the wedding again? Did you say you were doing it on New Year’s Eve?”
The little stinker. I grit my teeth then adopt a false grin. “Oh, that was just one of the dates we were talking about,” I say, waving a hand airily.
“There was Valentine’s Day too, right?” Amanda continues, all deadpan and having way too much fun. “And the first day of spring.”
Gage clears his throat. “But we also talked about how very much we like summer. Next summer, right? A fantastic, outdoor, summer wedding in…Wine Country.”
Far, far away.
“Or here,” Felix says, a matchmaker gleam in his eyes as he gestures to the picturesque courtyard we’re standing in with the fountain and its gurgling water, sounding like chimes. And actually…this would be a perfect spot to get hitched.
Not that we will.
“And,” he adds, “my daughter Camilla is a wedding photographer. Well, she’s transitioning from corporate headshots to weddings. She’s looking for a few weddings to do for free. To get the experience.”
Oh, god. My stomach drops as it’s clear where he’s going.
Felix shifts his attention briefly to Gage. “I know your grandmother took those engagement photos, but if you’re looking for some more formal couple shots—perhaps for the store, or some of the articles we have planned—she could take those. I’m sure she’d be happy to do your wedding as well. Oh, and I have a florist right here on-site you can use for the big day. Happy to gift those to you too.”
Kill me now. Who thought it was a good idea to come here today? Not me.
“Oh, yes, that’d be amazing,” Eliza says in a sober voice, answering for us. “Can you give us the name? Amanda and I would love to check them out.”
They’re in cahoots already? I stifle a groan.
“We truly would,” Amanda adds.
“And I’ve been studying flower arranging, so I’ll help them,” Ally adds, her tone deadly serious now that she’s figured out the ruse.
It’s like Harriet the Spy and the Spy and the Spy. I could whistle in admiration if I didn’t also want to whisper to these troublemakers whose side are you on ?
But my fake fiancé has other issues on his mind. “Articles as in media coverage?” Gage asks Felix.
“Yes. I have Silver Zanetti coming to the opening, among others.”
“The Dessert Devotee?” I ask, my voice pitching up at the mention of the wildly popular dessert influencer. She can make a shop. Double, triple, quadruple its business.
Gage shoots me a curious look. “Who’s that?”
“She reviews chocolates,” I rattle off at Mach speed. “She does these videos where she takes bites of chocolate and rates them, and they’re so popular.”
“For eating chocolate?”
Well, she does it really sensually, like she’s having a foodgasm, but I don’t say that in front of the kids. I just nod to Gage. “Yes.”
“That’s great,” he says to Felix.
“And many others are coming too. Lots of food press and lifestyle media. And the merch team will have their branded items on sale during the day in about a week, so be on the lookout for that, but sharing the shop should be easy. They don’t need more than shelf space during the day.”
“Piece of cake,” I say, like I’d deny him a thing.
Then Felix turns to the girls. “Kiss My Tulips is the name of the flower shop if you do decide to check it out.”
“We most definitely will,” Amanda says.
“Right after we get our boba,” Ally adds.
“And we should head over there now,” Eliza finishes.
Yes, leave, right away!
They wave, then spin around.
“If you go to Farm To Straw, tell them to put it on my tab. Felix Aguilar,” Felix calls out as they trot down the steps.
“Thanks, Felix,” Amanda says, and the girls disappear.
Felix is enchanted by the troublemaking trio, shaking his head in delight as they go. “They’re the best of friends,” he says to us.
Gage laughs. “No, they just?—”
“They just are,” I correct, ready to stomp on his foot. “Isn’t it precious?”
Realizing his mistake, he quickly adds, “So precious. Just love it. Love it big time. One hundred percent.”
“You have a lovely family,” Felix says warmly. The dude is such a grandpa. His warm eyes travel to my hand. “Oh! What a beautiful ring. Is that?—”
I’ve got this. “Yes! It’s vintage. Gage’s grandmother’s ring. We were having it sized, so I was wearing a silly little cocktail ring because I didn’t want to go without.”
“It’s a lovely family heirloom,” he adds, and whew—I’m glad I had that lie ready, though I still feel oily. Maybe oily is just my new normal. “And I personally think a New Year’s Eve wedding would be great. Stop by the flower shop anytime. We can handle everything.”
On that note, he leaves, returning to the interior of the hotel. Once he’s out of earshot, I slump against my fake fiancé. “That was…”
“A close call?” Gage finishes, wrapping his strong, capable arms around me.
“Yes, and are our kids actresses or what? They’ll be thanking the Academy before we know it,” I say, then rest my cheek against his shoulder. “I feel oily again.”
He sighs, full of understanding, but then his voice is strong, firm as he says, “Don’t, baby. Just don’t.”
It’s said with warmth and reassurance. Protectiveness too, and I try to let those guilty feelings ebb, especially since he called me baby instead of cupcake. He called me that, too, the first night we were together. It feels different than cupcake, and I’m not sure why.
All I know right now is that I don’t want to leave his arms.
He doesn’t let me go either. He’s quiet for a beat, stroking my hair gently. “Is this a fake fiancé benefit?” he whispers.
“A hug when you need it?”
“Yes.”
I smile against his solid frame. “Seems it is.”
A warm sigh. A comfortable silence. Then sweet words. “Good. I like this benefit.”
Me too.