Page 14 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
“That’ll be wonderful!” Vivian says.
After dinner, we stand on the balcony to enjoy the cool ocean breeze. When my dad explains the architectural design of the house to Vivian, my mom says to me, “I’m so happy for you, Alex. Vivian is a lovely girl. She’s perfect!”
“Thanks, Mom. I’m glad you like her,” I say, trying not to give her too much hope. “But no one is perfect. Besides, you’ve only just met her.”
“Well, son. You don’t need to see a person many times to know them. The first impression pretty much tells you everything.”
I debate the validity of the claim for a moment but give it up promptly. Instead, I ask her, “How is she different from the women I brought home before?”
She considers for a moment. “I don’t know. She just feels different. She’s beautiful, although she doesn’t seem to know. What I want to say is, she has no pretense at all.”
I can hardly stifle a laugh. No pretense? Well, I don’t laugh because of guilt. What would my poor mother think once she knew Vivian and I are playing pretend couple? But I know what my mom means. Vivian might be pretending to be my fiancée, but she isn’t pretending to be anything else. While my past girlfriends racked their brains to come up with witty remarks to impress my parents, Vivian only tries to show them we’re in love.
I’m gazing at the estate’s night view when I hear Vivian gasp. “What a beautiful piece of art!”
They’re standing in front of the Sea Maiden bronze fountain statue that my mom spent a fortune on.
“You’ve got good taste, honey,” my dad says, chuckling. “That piece cost us fifty grand.”
“Fifty grand?” Vivian pauses for a moment and looks closer at the statue. “Wow. I can tell why it’s worth it. The scales on her tail feel so real, and so do the conch shell and the turtle on the sea reef.”
“You think so?” my dad says. “Now I feel better about my money.”
Vivian laughs. “I’m glad.”
“She’s a gem. Promise me you are going to marry her, Alex,” my mom says.
My mouth opens. Where does this infatuation come from? And then I get it. Mom always wished for a daughter, but she had complications during my birth and couldn’t have more children. I have a step-sister, Samantha, but she was already a rebellious teenager when Mom and Dad got married, and the two of them never got along. Mom probably sees Vivian as the daughter she never had. This is more serious than I expected. Well, maybe her enthusiasm will cool off once Vivian is out of her sight.
Chapter 7
Vivian
“So, how do you like California, Vivian?” Karen asks me.
“I love it!” I say wholeheartedly, although I’ve been on her property for less than a day, and it probably doesn’t represent the entire state.
“Do you like it more than New York?”
I nod without hesitation. “Definitely! It feels like paradise. I would live here if I had a choice.”
“Very well!” Karen beams with delight. “I guess I’ll be seeing you often because you’re welcomed to stay here anytime, honey!”
We linger on the balcony until ten. I don’t feel sleepy, but Alex’s parents need to rest, so we call it a night. Alex holds me in his arm as we say goodnight to his parents, and he kisses my head. Oh, Lord. Even though I know it’s all pretending, I can’t help being melted by his affection. I wish we were for real.
He doesn’t let go of me until we reach our bedroom upstairs.
My heart pounds against my ribcage the moment he closes the bedroom door. Am I really going to spend the night with Alex, my dad’s best friend, and my teenage crush?
As I’m busy guessing the near future, Alex says, “Good. They’ve recently replaced the bed. It’s brand new.”
My attention falls to the king-sized bed. It does look new and large, with canopy and bedposts. It’s so tall I would have to climb onto it. My face feels warm when I see the pillows next to each other.
Alex seems to have read my thoughts.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take the couch,” he says.
I glance at the couch. It is large, but it isn’t meant to be a bed and certainly not for a man his size. I think briefly about whether I can take a different room, but decide it’s out of the question because we are supposed to be a couple. “No, you should take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. It isn’t that much smaller than my bed in my last apartment,” I say.
