Page 34 of Fake Engaged to the Enemy

Catherine’s description of him fits to a T.

“You must be Catherine’s fiancé,” Donny greets.

I shake his hand, squeezing a little harder than needed. “That I am. Pleased to meet you.”

He eyes the beach house behind me. A look of disgust briefly passes over his face.

“So this is the place that Catherine’s been living?” he asks. “Where’s her grandmother? I’ve been looking forward to meeting her.”

“Nah, this isn’t Lynn’s place. Lynn doesn’t like visitors. Her mastiffs don’t either,” I add.

Donny pales. “Mastiffs?”

“Yeah, they just about killed a salesman last month,” I tell him seriously. “Course, he was lucky. Lynn would have gotten him with her shotgun if the dogs hadn’t gotten him first.”

“Uh…”

I laugh and wave a hand. “I’m just messing with you. But no, this isn’t the Hart place. Actually, Catherine and I just bought the house here. We’ll be fixing it up. We thought it might be a good place to have this conversation.”

Donny glances back at the long stretch of beach. I can almost see the thoughts in his mind.

Plenty of places to hide a body.

Maybe it’s a bit mean to scare him right off the bat like this. But if it makes him leave Catherine and Lynn alone, then so be it.

Catherine arrives shortly. We give him a tour through the house all the while explaining our fake version of events.

“You understand, then, that we don’t want the rumors to get any worse,” Catherine says once we’re done. “Crimson and his girlfriend deserve to make their relationship known in their own time.”

“So he is seeing someone new?” Donny asks, pouncing on the statement.

Catherine smiles. “That’s not for me to say.”

Donny looks disappointed.

After the tour is done, we go out to Lynn’s place. She has watermelon and lemonade for us. Donny tries to ask her questions, but she manages to make a tangent every time.

“No, I think she must have been closer to five,” she says during one of her stories. “Yes. She would have been five. Anyway, so this little five-year-old… or maybe she was six? Oh, dear. I don’t remember. What was your question again?”

Donny’s eyes were glazed. “Oh, nothing important. Uh, how about some photos? Then I can get out of your hair.”

“I have a family album up in the attic,” Lynn suggests. “It’s in this old blue box with bears dancing on it. Or maybe I put it in the green box. The one with ducks, not the one with geese. You know they’re ducks because their heads are green. Like the box.”

“Oh, I mean just some photos of Catherine and George.”

Lynn nods. “I think I have some of them, too.”

“How about just one? You two could have a little smooch?” Donny asks quickly, lifting his camera.

I shrug as I glance at Catherine. She leans across the table, and we kiss.

Unlike our previous times, though, she remains stiff. As a result, the kiss doesn’t last long at all.

Catherine gives me an apologetic look, but I only smile at her.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Catherine offers to Donny.

I start helping Lynn with cleanup, keeping a close eye on Donny and Catherine. They talk at his car for some time.

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