One Hot Fake: An Accidental Fake Marriage Romance by Sarah Brooks (free novel reading sites .TXT) 📗

“Hello yourself,” she says and keeps her hands wrapped around her oversize handbag. “Where shall we go for lunch? I’m afraid I’m not very familiar with these parts of the city.”

The implication is that my offices are located in a not so nice part of the city, which is complete bull. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. I have an appointment before we go for lunch. I thought we could go together. You might enjoy it.” Fat chance.

She frowns. “I hope it won’t take long. I have a lot to do before I go back to Santa Monica.”

“It won’t,” I tell her as we walk to the parking lot. Amelia is the busiest person I know, which means we’ll be in and out of there in a flash.

I hadn’t told Declan that I’m meeting his mom for lunch. I want to surprise him later. I know he’ll appreciate the gesture, and maybe just maybe, Mrs. Carter and I can forge a relationship. A glance at her pursed lips, and I wonder if my goals are too lofty.

On the five-minute drive to Amelia’s office, Mrs. Carter does not say a word until we get out of the car.

“We could have walked,” she says.

“Yes, but the restaurant I’ve booked us for lunch is on the outskirts of town,” I explain.

She nods, and we make our way into the building. Amelia’s office is on the third floor on top of the theatre. We take an elevator, which opens up into a huge space with wooden flooring that is the audition room.

Several young men are sprawled on various chairs and couches arranged along the walls. Amelia sees me from where she’s standing near the window talking to someone, and she comes over. We fall into each other’s arms, and then she holds me at arms’ length to examine me.

“Married life suits you,” she declares. “When do I get to meet this mystery man?” she demands.

I squirm. I’d better stop her before she says something that will make Mrs. Carter dislike me even more than she does.

“Perhaps you’d like to meet his mother first,” I say smoothly. I take Amelia’s hand and shift her so that Mrs. Carter is in her line of vision.

Amelia steps forward, and she and Mrs. Carter shake hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I can tell that Amelia is a little taken aback by my showing up with my mother-in-law.

They exchange a few pleasantries, and then Amelia leads us to a comfortable couch and calls for attention from the guys. She introduces me as her client. Then she explains what I’m looking for. Fairly decent-looking guys to be bridegrooms for a day.

I can feel Mrs. Carter’s gaze burning into me, but I’m too busy picking the guys for the wedding. I feel like shit when I pick my five and the rest are turned away. I don’t know how Amelia does this. Half an hour after we entered, we leave Amelia’s office.

Mrs. Carter waits until we are in the car. “Is that how weddings are done here? Isn’t the groom supposed to pick groomsmen who are his friends? How can you hire them?” She sounds genuinely horrified.

I give her a short explanation that the groom has no groomsmen. Mrs. Carter has very definite beliefs about people, which leads me to believe that she’s led a very sheltered life.

“I thought you’d like it here,” I tell her as I drive through to the parking lot of the garden restaurant. It has a Santa Monica beach feel as it’s surrounded by a lush garden and a huge fountain in the middle of it.

“It looks nice,” she says.

Inside the restaurant, the hostess takes us to our table out in the garden. We order drinks, and then another waiter appears with the menus, and we order our lunch.

Mrs. Carter asks for a salad.

“Is that all you’re having?” I ask her, disappointed. “The food is out of this world. You sure you don’t want to try?”

“I’m sure,” she says.

I’m starving, and I order a steak and buttered potatoes. Our drinks come, and when the waiter leaves, tension is tight between us, and I don’t know how to make her comfortable. It’s the most awkward lunch I’ve ever had.

She forks her salad with more force than necessary, and when she’s halfway done, she pushes the plate away. Then she looks up at me and smiles. Relief floods me. Maybe she’s decided to try and make this work.

“We missed you last week when Declan came home for dinner,” she says.

I wrack my brain. Declan never mentioned dinner with his parents. She laughs softly. “That was silly of me. He wouldn’t have, now would he, considering that we were having dinner with Ruby.”

I walk straight into the trap. “Who is Ruby?”

“Ruby is … sorry, was Declan’s fiancée. An old friend whose parents are our friends too.” A triumphant look comes over her face, but I don’t care.

All I can think is that Declan went to dinner at his parents with his ex in attendance, and he didn’t mention it. Pain spreads across my chest. I suddenly lose my appetite and push my plate away.

I knew it, a voice inside my head says. He doesn’t want to be married, but he won’t tell me. I have to hold it together. I can’t let Mrs. Carter see how badly she’s hurt me.

She leans forward. “Why don’t you be the adult between the two of you and forget about this sham of a marriage?”

I thrust out my chin in defiance. “Declan and I have feelings for each other.”

“Oh,” she says. “Is that why he agreed to come for dinner with Ruby?” She lets out a deep sigh. “Ruby is one of us. She and Declan are perfect for each other. They grew up together, and she knows our ways.”

That all may be true, but there’s one glaring problem. I’ve fallen in love with my husband. I trusted him and opened my heart to him. Now, he’s