Page 26 of The Fake Family Deal

“Is everything really just about business with you?”

For a second, I think I might be about to answer her honestly, but then the waiter comes to save me, shattering the moment. “Champagne, sir, madam. Are you ready to order?”

“I’ll have the mushroom risotto,” I say, not even glancing down at the menu. I sit up straight, giving off an air of confidence as I try to cover for the fact I always get the same thing.

“I’ll have whichever pasta you recommend,” says Marina, refusing to commit to a decision.

The waiter nods as he writes it down. “Okay, surprise pasta it is. Anything else?”

“A side of garlic bread,” I say.

Marina thanks the waiter as he takes the menus from us, and I do too, which earns me another look from her.

I don’t like that she’s seeing a different me. I know that’s the whole point of this, but I’ve held on to my reputation for so long that someone peering through the cracks of the façade feels like being torn open and examined.

“I’m surprised you don’t to go out to eat more often,” Marina says, picking up the conversation again. I tense, not fully wanting to carry it on. “I’d have thought you’d have so many friends to go out with, your calendar would always be full.

I shrug. Forcing myself not to frown, I say, “Friends are hard to keep when you’re always busy.”

To my relief, she spares me from thebut you’re rich! Rich people have loads of friends!comment that I can see bubbling on her tongue.

There’s no way that she can understand how I’ve spent my whole life focused on nothing but my career. I have nothing outside my work. I’ve never had time for it.

All the friends Idohave are vapid or colleagues. I haven’t had an honest conversation in years.

Not before Marina.

“Anyway,” I say, firmly changing the subject, “shall we?”

I pop the cork off the bottle and pour the fizzing champagne into her glass. “To success,” I toast, holding my glass up. “To you and me.”

“To you and me,” she echoes, clinking her glass against mine and looking deep into my eyes.

I don’t look away.

Does she feel it too? This whisper inside, this force that’s trying to pull us together? It’s clawing inside my chest, wanting to make me confess to her, to tell her more than that she’s beautiful. To tell her that I want to be here with her and I’m glad we found each other.

This was never meant to be real. But as she sits across from me in the low lighting, her cheeks pink and lips drawn into an exquisite smile, the ache of loneliness that I’ve been feeling wails inside me, and I wish that this was real.

I wish this wasn’t for show.

I can barely bring myself to think it, but I don’t hate being Marina’s fake husband.

In fact, I almost wish shecouldbe my wife.

We’ve definitely been acting more like a couple this week, ever since the painting. Something between us has clicked, and it’s easier to get along with her now. I find myself saying things I barely even knew I could.

At what point does pretense become real?

At what point am I going to fall in love with Marina, with no return?

CHAPTER 14

MARINA

The director has been desperately trying to make it look like we’re engaged and active parents, always looking out for our child, always taking her on fun excursions. We’ve been so busy over the last few days that I’m surprised Lila isn’t wailing her head off.

It’s the life I want for her — a busy one with loving parents. It’s not something I’ve always been able to give her.

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