Faking Ms. Right: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club Book 1)
Faking Ms. Right: Chapter 22

Leaning my hip against the kitchen counter, I took a sip of my whiskey while I eyed Everly. She was curled up in that ugly yellow bean bag chair, reading a book, an almost-empty glass of wine perched on her knee. Dressed in a pink shirt and a pair of light blue shorts that showed a hell of a lot of leg, she was a bright pop of color in my living room.

Not just in the room. In my life.

I wasn’t playing at the bar tonight, so normally I would have poured my whiskey and gone straight to my office. Instead, I lingered, watching her, my eyes roving over her skin. Her silky hair. Thinking of all the ways I wanted to fuck her tonight.

As if she could feel my eyes on her, she glanced up.

The hint of shyness in her face drove me crazy. She smiled, nibbling her bottom lip, and uncurled herself to stand.

“Hi,” she said as she came into the kitchen. She finished the last of her wine and set the glass by the sink.

I looked her up and down, not bothering to hide the heat in my gaze. “Hi.”

She was magnetic, her pull irresistible. I closed the distance between us, slipping a hand around her waist. Leaned in to brush my lips against hers.

“Shep—oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

I stepped back and turned to my dad. “Do you need something?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact. I’m glad you’re both here. We need to talk details about your engagement party.”

“We don’t need an engagement party.”

“Of course you do,” he said, as if the very notion shocked him. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep it very private. No public announcements. No press. In fact, keeping it secretive will increase the appeal. Maybe we can work that into the theme.”

“Theme?” Everly asked, her voice amused.

“I’m thinking Roaring Twenties. Something very Great Gatsby, with glitz and glamour. Live jazz. What do you think?”

“Dad, The Great Gatsby is a tragedy.”

“True, but I’m going for style over substance. And I know all things Gatsby were very trendy a while back, but really, the style is timeless.”

I absolutely did not want my dad—or anyone—throwing us an engagement party. It had nothing to do with the engagement being fake. Even if Everly and I were planning an actual wedding, I would have vetoed a party.

“That sounds amazing,” Everly said.

My eyes darted to her. She couldn’t be taking his side.

She looked right at me, a playful smile on her lips. “Come on, Shep. It’s just a little party.”

“Exactly,” Dad said. “This is a big deal. We need to celebrate. Just an intimate gathering, nothing too extravagant. I already talked to your brother. He and Grant are looking forward to it.”

Everly winked. “See? Ethan and Grant are excited.”

The little vixen was fucking with me. I’d just have to fuck with her right back. “Well, we’ll have to invite your parents and sister, Everly.”

Her smile faded and she started fidgeting with her hair. “Right. Well, my parents live in Florida. And they’re busy, and they travel a lot. I’m not sure if they’d be able to make it.”

“Your sister, though,” I said, enjoying the way she was trying not to squirm. “She lives in the area, doesn’t she?”

The color drained from her face.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Dad said. “Just think, both families, together in one place.”

“I’ll, um…” She fumbled over her words. “I’ll have to check the calendar.”

“Great,” Dad said. “I’m taking Svetlana to a benefit luncheon tomorrow. We’ll start working on the details. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

I had to stop myself from groaning at the mention of Svetlana.

“And just to let you know, things are looking up,” Dad said. “The market’s been turning in my favor, and I have some big deals going through that are going to put me back in the black. Well in the black, if all goes according to plan.”

“Dad—”

He put up a hand. “Nothing too risky. I learned that lesson. But you won’t have dear old dad as a roommate much longer.”

The reminder that this—all of this—was temporary poked at something in my chest. “Right. Glad to hear it.”

“How’s your treatment going?” Everly asked.

“Uncomfortable and inconvenient. But if that’s the worst of it, I’ll consider myself a very lucky man. Things are looking good there too. Thanks for asking.” He smiled at her. “Well, I won’t keep you. Goodnight, you two.”

“Night, Richard.”

I nodded. “Night, Dad.”

As soon as he left, Everly grabbed my arm. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

I let her lead me to the bedroom and she shut the door behind us.

“Invite my parents and my sister?” she asked.

“The party sounds amazing?” I shot back.

She put her hands on her hips. “Your dad was so excited. I don’t know how you say no to him when he has that adorable little gleam in his eyes.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Gleam in his eyes?”

“Shepherd, I can’t invite my family. What am I supposed to say? Oh hey, Mom and Dad, can you fly out to Seattle for my engagement party? No, I’m not actually making all your dreams come true by getting married. I’m pretending to be marrying my boss, but everyone else there is going to think it’s real. You can go along with that, right?”

“Can they?”

She groaned. “No, it would be a disaster. My sister totally would, but that’s beside the point.”

“Then don’t invite anyone. They don’t have to know.”

“Yeah, but your dad was so excited about meeting my family.”

“Because he thinks this is real,” I said.

Her expression fell and she leaned away. “Right. There isn’t actually anything between us.”

Damn it. “That’s not what I meant.”

“No, it’s fine. I get it.” She gestured toward the bathroom. “I think I’m going to take a bath and read. I’ll be sure to put the party on your calendar when your dad sets a date.”

She grabbed a book from her nightstand and went into the bathroom without looking back.

I stared at the closed door for a long moment. Fuck. I hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings.

My phone rang, so I pulled it out of my pocket. As if to add insult to injury, it was my mother. Why was she calling? I hadn’t talked to her in months.

I answered on the way to my office. “Hi, Mom.”

“Shepherd. What’s this about you getting married?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Did you talk to Dad?”

“He called to find out my availability for your engagement party. I pretended that wasn’t the first I’d heard of this. Of course you wouldn’t get engaged without calling your mother to tell her the news.”

I would if the engagement was fake and there wasn’t any reason for you to know. “It was sudden.”

“Indeed. Is she pregnant?”

I sank down into my chair, grinding my teeth together. “No, she’s not pregnant.”

“Blackmail?”

“Mom, what the hell? No, she’s not blackmailing me.”

She paused for a beat. “Then why on earth are you getting married?”

Because I fell in love with her. Jesus, where had that thought come from? “Is it really that hard to believe?”

“Shepherd, marriage is an archaic institution. A legally binding contract between two people to stay together for life? It’s completely unrealistic. Move her in with you. Let her play house if that’s what she wants. But for god’s sake, don’t get married.”

“You’ve made your thoughts on marriage abundantly clear.”

“And don’t get her pregnant,” she said. “That’s almost as bad as getting married.”

“That’s an interesting thing to say to your son.”

“Oh god, don’t start. You sound like your brother. You’ve worked too hard for everything you have to risk it all for some woman.”

“Look, you don’t have to come to the party. It’s Dad’s idea anyway. But Everly’s not…” I trailed off, not sure what I wanted to say. Or rather, not sure I should say it.

“She’s not what?”

“She’s not like you. I’m not marrying her because I’m being coerced.” You’re not marrying her at all, Shepherd. “She wouldn’t know how to blackmail someone even if she wanted to. She doesn’t think like that. People aren’t assets or liabilities to her.”

“So she’s naive. Sounds like your father.”

“Jesus, Mom. At least Dad’s a decent human being.”

“I don’t want to talk about your father. It sounds like you’re intent on marrying this girl who is—” she cleared her throat “—not like me, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it to your party.”

“That’s fine.”

She huffed, like she was insulted. If she wanted me to beg her to come, she was going to be disappointed. I wasn’t playing that game with her.

“Fine. Congratulations.”

We said goodbye and I tossed my phone on my desk. This was turning into a shit show.

I took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose again. When had my mom gotten so bitter? She’d never been warm and nurturing—not even when Ethan and I were kids—but she’d seemed to reject her life as a wife and mother more vehemently as the years went by.

And I was so much like her.

Ethan had gotten our father’s warmth. I’d been born of ice. The stoic coldness that had made me so successful had come from her. I wanted to think it had been tempered by my dad’s compassion. That perhaps I’d learned to be less of a cold-hearted bastard because of his influence.

Not that I had the track record to prove it. I was well aware of my reputation in my company. Cold. Ruthless. I had colleagues and contacts rather than friends. I wasn’t close to my family—or I hadn’t been, before Dad had moved in. I’d seen him—and Ethan—more lately than I had in years.

My past with women painted the same picture. Short, shallow relationships. I’d thought it was bad luck. But deep down, I knew the truth. I’d gone after the same type of woman, over and over. Women who were more interested in my money than me. Women I’d never connect with.

Because I didn’t know how to connect. I was too much like my mother.

Leaving my phone where it sat—I needed to check out for a while—I went downstairs to my other condo. I sat on the couch with my Gibson Les Paul and played. Felt the pressure of the strings against my fingertips. Focused on the quiet melody in my headphones.

I didn’t know what I was going to do about this party. Or about Everly. Maybe I shouldn’t have slept with her. Or invited her to see me play.

But despite the knot of confusion sitting in the pit of my stomach, I still didn’t regret it.

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