Page 38 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
But not today. At the moment, I feel different. Something is missing from my life. I take a big gulp of the liquor, wanting to numb the sense of longing. Even with the clamor of the city around me, I feel lonely. It’s so fucking empty here. What the fuck do I need so many rooms for? So I feel lonely at a time like this?
I pull out my cellphone. I need distractions. There are a few female friends I enjoy being with. Rieko, a Japanese woman who plays the piano well. Gabby, an Italian American singer with an angel’s voice and a stripper’s body, and Nancy, whose witty, intellectual talks never fail to amuse me. I pause to make my choice of the night, but for some reason, none of them seems to interest me.
Instead, I text Vivian. “What are you having for dinner?” I type. But before I send it, I scoff. What am I? A fifteen-year-old, love-sick teenager? Even when I was a teenager, I didn’t feel this way toward girls. I was always rational. Cool-headed. I didn’t hesitate to accept Columbia’s admissions offer, even though it meant I had to break up with my high school sweetheart.
I delete the message.
Just then, my phone chimes, and it’s my mom calling me.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Oh, Alex!” she sounds strange.
“What’s up?”
She pauses for a second. “Alex, we’re coming to New York.”
“What? Why?”
“I’ll let you know why when I see you, but we’ve booked the tickets already, and we’ll be here Sunday afternoon. We might stay for a few days. I’m not sure how long.”
This is unusual. My parents don’t care for New York, and they seldom visit. “Okay, mom. Text me the flight number and the arrival time. I’ll have Mark pick you up at the airport.”
“Will do. Is it okay if we stay at your place? I don’t feel like booking a hotel room.”
“Of course it’s okay. Mom. I’ve got five bedrooms.” I say, frowning a bit at the strange question. They’ve always stayed with me during the few times they visited in the past.
“Are you sure Vivian wouldn’t mind?”
Damn. The thought hasn’t crossed my mind. “She wouldn’t,” I lie in a hurry. “She would love to have you here. She misses you guys.”
“Perfect. I miss her, too. Such a nice girl. Is she here? Can I say hi?”
“No. I’m sorry, Mom. She’s visiting her dad.”
“That’s sweet. Her dad must hate you for taking away his little girl,” my mom says. “That reminds me. We should meet with her family during our stay. Would you arrange it?”
“S-sure,” I say. “I’ll talk to Vivian about it.”
She pauses for a moment and says, “Have you decided on the wedding date yet?”
“Not yet, but it’ll be after she comes back from Paris.” I remind her.
My mom falls silent. “If I were you, Alex, I wouldn’t let her go to Paris alone. And if I had to, I’d marry her before letting her go.”
I chuckle, refraining from the impulse of telling her I would agree with her if Vivian were indeed my fiancée.
“Okay, tell her I say hi,” my mom says.
“I will. Bye.”
After I hang up, I stand where I am in front of the balcony door, gazing at the fabulous sunset outside. Damn. I’ll have to ask Vivian to pretend again. And then I smile. It means she’ll be with me for a few days. That’s perfect.
Since I have a good reason, I don’t hesitate to call her this time.
Chapter 16
Vivian
