Page 30 of My Fake Lover

»I said the same thing to my friend Low.«

»In reference to?«

»Us.« She hesitated as if she didn’t know whether to say what was on her tongue. »That we live in two different worlds and it could never really work.« Was that so? Did she really see me so far removed from her? She cleared her throat as if she had said too much. »But this is just a deal, not a real date, so we don’t have to worry about that.«

My hand slid along her arm and grasped her fingers. »Come with me,« I said curtly. For some unfathomable reason, I wanted to show her that we were more alike than she assumed. I hadn’t been born into this elite life. I had worked hard for it, and I saw in Ivy that she too showed this kind of ambition. She wanted to make it on her own, through her own strength.

I pulled her through the dancing crowd and past the tents until we reached Ian’s house, and I headed for the barn. I was ready to let her into my life a bit more because I was genuinely afraid that this thing between us might be over after the wedding. She had doubts about us, and that was okay because I had them too. But perhaps we could put them aside. Together? Who knew, but for the first time, I was ready to find out.

A quiet voice in my head told me not to be so naive. It wouldn’t work, and not because I had more money than her, but for entirely different reasons. Yet somehow, these moments with her here felt like being in a parallel universe. As if I were just an ordinary guy taking a beautiful woman on a date.

»Where are we? This is how horror movies start. The charming, handsome millionaire turns out to be a serial killer who drags women into barns and…«

»You find me charming?« I asked amused, stopping at the door. She grinned back.

»Not really, you’re right.«

»Then handsome?« She rolled her eyes with a sigh, and I got so close to her face that I could have kissed her. »You don’t have to say anything; the blush on your cheeks is enough of an answer for me.«

Laughing, I pulled back and opened a double door to the barn. The musty smell stole my breath again until it dissipated through the open door, and my gaze fell on the Buick.

»What’s this?« I held out my hand, and she stepped inside. I closed the door behind her and switched on a buzzing overhead light. Somehow it seemed cozy; one could make something out of this place, and from what I knew of Lizzy, she intended to do just that.

I pulled Ivy into the middle and removed the tarp covering the car with a jerk. »Oh wow, a car,« she replied unenthusiastically, and I opened the passenger door for her.

»Get in,« I said softly, and she slid onto the seat. I followed her and sat in the driver’s seat. Once again, my hands automatically brushed over the worn leather of the steering wheel. »What is this?«

»This is my old car. Ian surprised me with it earlier.«

»That’s why you were gone so long!« she realized and turned to face me in the seat. I nodded.

»He got it from our old neighbor.« I avoided her gaze because I wasn’t sure if I was really ready to tell her everything yet. She sensed my uncertainty and reached for my fingers. Our hands intertwined. I kissed her knuckles gently and placed them on my thigh. »Ian and I were alone after our dad just disappeared one day.«

»God, Max, I’m sorry. Where was your mom?«

The memories of her still felt like glowing iron, gnawing through my core. »She died early, and Dad couldn’t cope.« There was no turning back now. I wanted to show her who I really was, so I had to swallow the bitter bile that formed in my throat and tell her. »We were put in a foster family that was even worse than our home. The next one wasn’t any better, but at least they didn’t separate Ian and me. Eventually, we ran away.« I dared to look at her, and her gaze was gentle but not pitying. Pity was the last thing I could bear.

»How old were you then?«

»I was fifteen and Ian was twelve.« I took a deep breath. »After two days of walking, we found an empty house in a suburb of New York. It went well for three years until they discovered we were two minors living alone in an abandoned house. Our neighbor, Mrs. Fleming, who kept the car, regularly brought us home-cooked meals, even though she was as poor as we were.«

»That sounds very kind.«

»She was.« I stroked the steering wheel again. »And this old heap belonged to her late husband. She left it to us. To two children.« I laughed bitterly and shook my head. »This car was my very first possession. I had never owned anything so big before. Worn-out shoes and old clothes were the best I could hope for.«

She drew in a breath as if things were becoming clearer to her. »And look at you now, you’ve made it,« she tried to encourage me, but I only gave her a small smile. I now actually owned so much that I could hardly count it. »I used to think that money would finally make me happy.« A snort escaped me.

»What happened?«

»I realized that I couldn’t buy the most important things in life. Ian started using drugs at fifteen, and I couldn’t keep him away from them. He needed money and broke into a store. That’s how they caught up with us, and of course, at eighteen and after the house incident, I didn’t get custody of him. He went back into foster care, and it only got worse. I thought if I worked hard and built something, it would show the lousy system that I could take care of Ian. When I was twenty, Ian was allowed to live with me on a trial basis for a year. I forced him into rehab, but our relationship was never the same. He kept relapsing, and I had to watch helplessly as his soul slowly died and took mine with it.«

Ivy squeezed my fingers tighter. »I was in a foster family too,« she suddenly confessed, and my gaze jerked to her. She nodded, as if she needed to reinforce her words. »My parents were great. At least when my dad wasn’t drinking.«

»Shit, Ivy…« I didn’t know what to say in response.

»He wasn’t violent or anything, not even to my mom. But he was a tyrant. I wasn’t even allowed to listen to music at home because he couldn’t stand it. When I was seventeen, we had a huge fight because I wanted to go to a party, but my dad wouldn’t let me. Mom and he wanted to fly to her family in Canada for a week to get some peace. It was a small plane.« She swallowed and I pulled her close. She crawled onto my lap, and I slid the seat back a bit to make room for her. I held her face with my hands. »The plane barely left the ground. A bird flew into the turbines and...« Sadness washed over her features, and I hugged her, rubbing my thumbs comfortingly over her cheeks.

»I’m sorry,« I whispered as she laid her head against my shoulder and pressed herself firmly into my arms. The closeness and comfort we offered each other were more than I had ever had in my life.

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