Page 11 of Just My Fake Husband

“Lunch Lady Liz needs a hug,” Skye says sweetly, holding out the dog to my face. Try shortening the name and you’ll get an earful from Skye. Don’t tell her, but sometimes, when she’s at activity nights, I shorten it to “Lunchie” or “Liz.” Who has time for that mouthful?

The dog, wearing a yellow T-shirt and yellow ear bows, licks my face as I take her in my arms while Skye sits with a thud in the chair next to me. She’s always been tall and lanky, only starting to round out a little after she turned thirty. She has cherubic cheeks and big brown eyes, same as mine. Freckles dot her nose, and her smile has the power to lift the grumpiest of grumps.

I turn my focus to Lunch Lady Liz. It’s too painful to look at Skye right now, knowing she still isn’t understanding fully that by this weekend, we’re permanently moving out of the only house she’s ever known. Jana thinks she’s fine with it since there’s the possibility of her being at Caring Souls. But it’s going to hit her when she can’t ever come back here, I know it.

The Grim Reaper of anxiety snakes around my middle, like it has every day since my parents’ deaths.

It’s okay. Really. I have a healthy and happy sister. I have a cool job. I’m dog aunt to the cutest pup you ever did see. Plus, I have excellent hearing, gums that my dentist can’t stop gushing over, and a car that runs most of the time.

“Store?” Skye asks, like she does about ten times a day.

“We just went to the store yesterday,” I remind her gently. “We’ve got food here.” Besides, I don’t add, we really don’t have the money. I swat away a wasp buzzing by Skye’s ear.

“Pretzels,” she says matter-of-factly. I can barely keep us stocked on all her favorites. As I live and breathe, I will convert her to healthier options one day. It’s my lifelong quest.

“We’ve got pretzels,” I say. “Tons of kinds. Go inside and bring out some bags and we’ll all have a big pretzel fest!”

“Yeah,” Jana joins in. “You’re always so nice to share your pretzels.”

It’s true. Skye is sweet and generous. She has more love in her little finger than most people have in their entire bodies. She would hug every single person she sees if they would let her.

I suck in a breath as the wasp zips around her head again.

“Hold still!” I shout as I stand, waving my hands to shoo the pesky wasp away. “Get out of here!” I tell the wasp as panic starts to fill my chest.

Jana squeezes my shoulder. “It’s okay, River.”

“She’s going to get stung.”

“Probably not,” Jana says. “And even if she does, she’ll be okay. Neither of you are allergic.”

“I know, but—”

“River, you’ve got to stop worrying so much about her.” Jana gives it to me straight. Doesn’t mean I always want to hear it. And I’m not going to just stand here while she gets stung.

“Pretzels,” Skye repeats as she stands. She gives Lunch Lady Liz a pat on the head, and before going inside, she pats Jana and me on the head, too, which makes us laugh.

When Skye’s gone into the kitchen, Jana pins me with a look. “I think you should sign with Caring Souls.” At my protest, she holds up her palm. “Call Gabriel Tate. Tell him you’re sorry for brushing him off and that you’d be interested to hear more about this job.”

My stomach drops. “It’s not a good idea to work with him. We have a past that he doesn’t remember but I do. He doesn’t even remember that he didn’t remember! And I can’t help him if he doesn’t tell me what’s up. He was being so stubborn about it.”

“Skye deserves this. And you deserve being able to have some more time for yourself, River. Call him and get some more information.” She fluffs the top of her brown pixie cut. “Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

I could call him. Eat my words a little. Tell him he has to tell me the whole story upfront so I can do a proper job of it.

I sigh and shake my head. “Whatever amount he offers me, I’m going to require he double it.”

Jana beams and gives me a high five.

In any case, I’m going to make sure he doesn’t forget me this time.

Chapter 4

Gabriel

“Don’t forget about them, okay?”

I’m on the back deck of Steve’s luxury cottage, speaking on the phone with some of my coworkers at Foundations—ex-coworkers—trying to convince them to continue making monthly payouts to a few of the smaller charities we work with.

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