Chapter 2
DAREK
I’d been sitting in that coffee shop for twenty minutes, nursing a black coffee that had gone from scalding to lukewarm, when she walked in.
And I forgot how to breathe.
She wasn’t what I had expected. I didn’t know what I expected, honestly. Della hadn’t sent photos, just assured me she’d found someone “perfect for the situation.”
I was assuming she’d send me some twenty-something blonde with big tits and oozing sex. The idea of renting a girlfriend still didn’t sit right with me but desperate times called for desperate measures.
The woman staring at me with an expression I imagined matched my own was not a twenty-something blonde with big tits.
Well, she did have a very nice set of boobs and she did have blonde hair, but it wasn’t a dye job and me, being a very discerning man, knew those boobs were God given.
Bless you, Father.
Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, practical and no-nonsense. Her bright blue eyes locked on mine. And curves. Holy shit the woman had curves that would make a man forget his own name. Curves I had no business noticing because this was a business transaction, nothing more.
But I was a man. A man that hadn’t gotten laid in way too long apparently.
Full lips with zero lipstick. A light gloss if I had to guess. My mind went straight to the gutter. That mouth on mine. And other places.
I just sat there like an idiot, my brain short-circuiting, my mouth refusing to form words.
It was not like me to sit around like a bump on a log.
I was a take-charge kind of guy. I spent my days barking orders at crews of shipbuilders, men twice my size who’d been working boats since before I was born.
I’d built a billion-dollar company from nothing but a dream and a willingness to work until my hands bled.
I didn’t get tongue-tied. I didn’t get speechless.
And yet there I was, struck dumb by a woman in jeans and a blouse that looked like it had been on the bottom of a laundry basket.
She started walking toward me. This was it. Could I do this?
I had to. I was out of options.
Get your shit together, Sullivan. It was a business deal. How she looked didn’t matter. What mattered was her helping me keep Daisie. The thought of my daughter snapped me back to reality faster than a bucket of ice water.
I stood as she approached, extending my hand like a normal human being who knew how to interact with other humans. “Liza?”
“That’s me.” Her handshake was firm, confident. Her palm was slightly sweaty, though, which made me feel better about my own momentary lapse in composure. She was nervous too. “You must be the client.”
I tried not to wince at being called a client. It made me feel dirty. But I was a client and this was a business arrangement.
“Darek Sullivan.” I gestured to the chair across from me. “Please, sit. Can I get you anything?”
I expected her to order a coffee. Maybe a tea. Something simple and polite that people ordered when they were trying to make a good impression.
“Yes, please.” When the server appeared she proceeded to order a latte, a muffin, and two bear claws.
I must have done something with my face because she paused mid-order, looking uncertain. “Is that okay?”
“Of course.” I nodded at the server. “And another black coffee for me.”
When the food arrived, she attacked it with the kind of gusto I had only witnessed in teenage boys. She didn’t pick at the muffin or nibble daintily at the bear claw. She ate like a woman who hadn’t seen food in days, and something about that made me feel a little something.
I watched her, trying to figure out what I was dealing with. She wasn’t trying to be seductive or charming. She wasn’t batting her eyelashes or touching my arm or doing any of the things I was used to women doing. She was just eating. With great enthusiasm.
And somehow, I found that reassuring.
And oddly endearing.
I quickly dismissed the thought. This was a contract for services. That was all I needed. The whole point of hiring someone to fake a relationship was that it wouldn’t end up with emotions and hurt feelings.
I was already dealing with one terrible ex. I wasn’t shopping around for another one.
“So,” she said around a mouthful of food, then swallowed and tried again with better manners. “So. Fake girlfriend. That’s the job?”
I looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.
“That’s the job.” I leaned back in my chair, studying her. She had a smudge of powdered sugar on her chin. It should have been off-putting. Instead, it was cute. “But first, let me make one thing clear. I’m not a bad father.”
She blinked at me, bear claw halfway to her mouth. “Okay?”
“I need you to understand that before I explain anything else. Whatever you might hear, whatever people might say, I’m not a bad father. I would never put my daughter in danger. Everything I’m doing, everything I’m about to ask you to do, it’s all for her.”
Liza set down the bear claw and gave me her full attention. The nervousness I’d seen when she walked in was gone. She looked at me like she was a scientist examining a specimen. Which, according to Della, she actually was.
“Why don’t you start from the beginning?” she said.
So I did.
I told her about my ex Sasha. About how we’d met at a yacht club event eight years ago, how she’d been young and beautiful and charming, how I’d fallen hard and fast and married her within six months. How we had Daisie, and how everything had seemed perfect for a while.
And then how, three years ago, Sasha had walked out.
Just left. Told me motherhood wasn’t what she expected and she needed to find herself.
She said she couldn’t do it anymore. She disappeared to Europe to “work on herself,” leaving me with a four-year-old who kept asking when Mommy was coming home.
Liza’s expression transformed as I talked. The analytical look softened into something that might have been sympathy. Or pity. I couldn’t tell which, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“She abandoned you both,” Liza said quietly.
“For three years. Three years of birthday cards that arrived late, if at all. Three years of missed video calls because she was ‘too busy.’ Three years of me trying to explain to my daughter why her mother didn’t want to be around.
” I took a deep breath to calm my irritation.
“And now she’s back. Showed up two months ago saying she’s ready to be a mother again, that she wants joint custody. ”
“And you said no.”
“I said we need to take it slow. Daisie can’t get hurt again.
I won’t allow it.” I met Liza’s eyes. “I had to pick up the pieces of my little girl’s broken heart last time.
Do you know what it’s like trying to explain to a four-year-old why her mother left her?
Trying to convince her that she’s lovable and worthy when the woman who gave birth to her decided she’d rather be anywhere else? ”
Liza shook her head slowly.
“It’s hell,” I said. “Pure hell. And I won’t put Daisie through that again. So I told Sasha we’d start with supervised visits, work our way up slowly, let Daisie set the pace. She didn’t like that answer.”
“Let me guess,” Liza said. “She lawyered up.”
“Immediately. Started fighting for joint custody. Fifty-fifty split. She wants to take Daisie back to wherever she’s been hiding for half the year, like none of the last three years happened.
Like she has any right to just waltz back into our lives and demand equal say in how our daughter is raised. ”
I pulled out my phone and showed Liza the photo that had started this entire nightmare.
Grainy security camera footage from the yacht club, a single frame that made it look like Daisie was leaning over the edge of the dock, about to fall into choppy water, while I stood nearby looking at a boat instead of at my daughter.
“That’s the picture her lawyers are using to claim I’m negligent,” I said. “They claim I put Daisie in danger because I care more about my business than my daughter.”
She nodded. “Okay and what’s my role in this?”
“The family court has ordered a home evaluation. Someone is coming to my house next week to assess whether I’m fit to have custody of my own daughter.”
“Wow.”
“My lawyer says the evaluation should go fine. My house is good, Daisie’s happy and healthy, I’ve got a stable life.” I paused. “But he also suggested that it wouldn’t hurt to present a more… complete family picture. Someone to help show that Daisie has a warm, stable home environment.”
Understanding dawned in Liza’s eyes. “A girlfriend.”
“I thought about claiming a fiancée, but I didn’t want to confuse Daisie.
Telling her I’m engaged and then breaking it off a month later felt cruel.
But a girlfriend? Someone who’s around for a little while and then moves on when things don’t work out?
That’s normal. That’s something a seven-year-old can understand. ”
I watched her think, watched the wheels turning behind those bright blue eyes. She was smart. I could see it in the way she analyzed the situation, looking at it from different angles.
“It’s a little dishonest,” she said finally.
“It’s a lot dishonest,” I corrected. “But I’m willing to move heaven and earth to make sure my little girl never has to lose her mother again when Sasha inevitably leaves.
Because she will leave. I know her. She’ll get bored or overwhelmed or decide this isn’t what she wants, and she’ll disappear again.
And when she does, I need to have custody locked down so tight that she can never do this to Daisie again. ”
Liza nodded slowly. “Okay. So what exactly would you need from me?”
I laid it out for her. The whole arrangement.
“One hundred and fifty thousand dollars for one month of your time. You’d move into my house in Maine.
I have plenty of space and you’d have your own suite.
You need to attend some public events with me, yacht launches and charity functions, things where we’d be seen together.
You’ll be around for family dinners, activities with Daisie, the kind of things that show we’re a real couple.
And when the court’s representative comes for the home evaluation, you’d be there, presenting a united front. ”
“For a month.”
“One month. Then the evaluation will be done, the custody hearing will be over, and you can go back to your life. Clean break, no complications.”
She seemed to think about it for a few seconds. “I’m happy to do all of that. But there can be nothing sexual. I need you to understand that. Nothing physical, nothing romantic. I’ll play the girlfriend in public, I’ll smile for photos, I’ll be nice to your daughter. But that’s where it ends.”
“Della said I needed to be very detailed about what I need,” I said. “There may be a kiss or two for the cameras.”
“No tongue.”
I almost laughed but kept it together. “Of course not. I’ll need to touch you now and then.”
Liza shrugged. “That’s fine.”
Relief washed through me. “I don’t want complications any more than you do.”
“Good. We’re agreed. If you’re okay with my terms, I’ll sign the contract right now.”
I extended my hand and we shook on it.
“The contract will be sent to your email this afternoon,” I said. “Della will handle all the paperwork. I’ll need you in Maine in two days’ time. Is that feasible?”
“I’ll make it work.”
“Good.” I pulled out my wallet and left enough cash on the table to cover the bill and a generous tip. “Thank you, Liza. You’re helping me more than you know.”
She smiled, and it transformed her face from pretty to genuinely beautiful. “Thank you for the bear claws. They were really good.”
After she left, I stood outside the coffee shop and called Della.
“Well?” she answered on the first ring. “How did it go?”
“She’s perfect,” I said, watching Liza disappear into the crowd of pedestrians. “Finalize all the paperwork. Get her everything she needs. I want her in Maine by Wednesday.”
“Consider it done. I told you I would find the right person. I am the best at what I do.”
“You are.” I started walking toward where my driver waited with the car. “Della, one more thing. Make sure the contract is ironclad. No room for misinterpretation, no gray areas.”
“Of course. That’s how all our contracts work.”
“Good.”
I ended the call and slid into the back of the car, my mind already racing ahead to all the things I needed to arrange before Liza arrived. Getting the house ready, prepping Daisie, making sure my lawyer knew about the new addition to our household.
I had a lot of work to do.