Faking It (9 page)

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Authors: Diane Albert

BOOK: Faking It
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His nose wrinkled. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Oh come
on
. This too? Not even at like…a frat party?”

“You’re assuming I was invited to frat parties.”

“You are so developmentally stunted. I don’t care if it’s Mexican food. This is an American tradition.” She dug her perfect chip in, heaped up a mound of salsa, and held it to his lips. “Eat.”

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “No.”

“Please? For me?” She batted her eyelashes. “You can’t deny your fiancée, can you?”

“You don’t play fair.”

He looked over his shoulder. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was looking for his father’s watchful gaze. Old habit, maybe?

Leaning closer, he took the chip into his mouth, then chewed thoughtfully, looking at the basket. “Not bad.”

“See? You’ve been missing out.”

“I was busy building a business empire. Sampling different cuisines wasn’t exactly a priority on my bucket list.”

She winced. Right. So she’d made a mountain out of a molehill. One of her specialties, it seemed. Maybe she could put it on her resume.

He picked up another chip and dug in. At least Derek didn’t seem to be too angry with her. The entire situation still bothered her, though she kept her mouth shut. It was just an appetizer, but it was a symbol that something had been much more fundamentally wrong in young Derek’s home life.

She thought, just maybe, his father might have gone a little insane with grief after his wife’s death—and that insanity had turned into a fanaticism bordering on dogma throughout Derek’s life. It was one thing to try to forget his dead wife. It was another thing to be so crazily strict about something as silly as chips and salsa, just to cut his son off from his heritage. Hell, from a heritage that wasn’t even his. Way to give your kid a complex.

What a douche.

At least the apple had fallen far from the tree.

He stopped eating and looked at her oddly. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

She smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know. Lost in thought.”

By the time dinner came, he’d polished off the basket. This time he didn’t question the enchilada, and simply began eating with a hearty appetite. Stephanie was hungry enough that the silence between them was comfortable, even warm, but after a while she noticed he’d stopped eating and was looking out into the moonlit street, a small, strange smile on his lips.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, his voice low and distant. “I’m just…remembering.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Yes. Things I should have remembered a long time ago, I think. I remember the night before Christmas my mother would make coconut rice pudding. The moon would be shining just like this, and she’d be in the kitchen singing and cooking.” His gaze was distant, his voice soft, and she could tell he wasn’t seeing the night outside. “And then one Christmas she was just…gone, and it was like I was supposed to pretend she’d never been there. It was like this ritual of forgetting.” He shook his head. “I fell into a pattern. It was hard to break.”

Now Stephanie only felt worse for how insensitive she’d been. She’d been too overeager, thought she could repay him by helping him remember his mother, and hadn’t even thought her crazy plan through. She reached across the table and covered his hand. “But it wasn’t your pattern, Derek. It sounds like he controlled every aspect of your life. What you were allowed to eat, every experience you were allowed to have. He’s not a part of your life anymore. You don’t have to follow his rules.”

“I know.” His hand turned and his fingers laced with hers. “It’s hard to change. But maybe I should try.”

“Starting with…?”

“Learning to let go of control.” He looked down at their twined hands. “I have a tendency to need to be involved in everything. You should see the working dynamic at my company. I micromanage. Eventually, if I don’t stop, it will sink the company.”

“That is a start.”

“I hope so.” His gaze rose to hers. “Perhaps another place to start is with you.”

“M-me…?” Her stomach flipped.

“I already seem to be in the habit of breaking my rules where you’re concerned. You’re my personal contradiction.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Give it time,” he said with a slow, thoughtful smile, and withdrew his hand, leaving her confused.

“I can’t quite figure you out.”

“Good. A man is nothing without a bit of mystery.”

“…seriously? Next you’re going to say you don’t always drink beer, but when you do, you drink Dos Equis.”

“In between making Mount Everest climb me, yes. I am the most interesting man in the world.”

If only he knew how true that was becoming.

She cleared her throat. “Funny. So. Maybe next time we can find a real Puerto Rican restaurant? I’d like to find out the differences.”

“Next time, hm?”

“Um. Maybe?” She fiddled with her fork. “If you want. Or, you know, dinner and a show tomorrow, and you should be home free. I’ve already gone through Wheeler’s proposal and prepared a response packet, in case he’s in the mood to socialize again.”

“You say ‘socialize’ like it’s a dirty word.”

“I’m just…not very good at it. And I know I need to be, if I’m going to keep doing this job. Wheeler is just the first. Maybe I’ll win the next client over by pretending to be a lesbian. You have any cute sisters?”

He chuckled. “No siblings at all.” He arched a brow. “Do I detect a note of bitterness?”

“…maybe. All the games, Derek…it doesn’t feel like me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because it seems like the only way to make a difference. I have to do bad to do good.” She bit her lip. “I’m just afraid one day I’ll end up like Mr. Rodgers. I’ll forget why I’m doing it, and start caring about nothing but the money.”

He watched her steadily. “I think you’re too strong for that to happen.”

“I think you have more faith in me than I do.” She hid her blush behind her soda. “Funny. I’m telling you to break the rules, while doing everything I can to play by them.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice,” he said.

“And get fired.”

“I could hire you. How do you feel about D.C.?” he asked offhandedly.

She choked on her Coke. “What?”

“I’m offering you a job with a corporation that actually understands ethics. I may be a micromanager, but I don’t lie to do business. You’d probably be happier there.”

He couldn’t be serious. “Taking pity on Aaron’s baby sister?”

His lips thinned. “It’s not pity.”

“No thank you.” It was out before she could stop it, pride drowning out the tiny voice that reminded her the light bill was overdue.

Before Stephanie could even reach for her wallet, he withdrew his and handed his card to the waitress. They didn’t even have the check yet. He leveled a cool look at her. “This is the part where you remind me that you don’t need my help, and you can do this yourself.”

That…that
jerk
. “That’s right. I don’t need your help. Or you.”

“There’s no shame in accepting help when it’s given.”

“There’s no shame in having the will to succeed on my own, either.”

He made a frustrated sound, signed his name when the waitress brought the receipt, then stood and circled the table to pull Stephanie’s seat out. “You have to know when to yield, Stephanie. What good would your work do if all the people you wanted to help felt the same way as you?”

“I accept help from my brothers, and my parents, when I
need
it. I’ve got plenty of help already.”

“Yet you’re stuck in a job with an employer who manipulates you into lying, and you’re so afraid of failing that you won’t stand up for yourself.”

“I’m not afraid of failure.” She ground her teeth. “I’m afraid of eviction.”

He met her irritation with infuriating calm. “My offer still stands, Stephanie. Not out of pity. I offer because I care.”

“Thank you,” she said, but couldn’t stand to say anymore. Especially when, for the first time since he’d tried to play her knight in shining armor, she was almost tempted to say yes. So many years of struggling to make it on her own. So many years of refusing money from Aaron, or from any of her other brothers. She hadn’t wanted to take the job with Rodgers. Not when she met the man and understood the implications of her job requirements. But with the economy the way it was, it was either take the job or show up on her parents’ front doorstep with her things in a cardboard box.

But now she had a way out, and a chance at something new. Something that would be given to her, instead of working for it—and that was where her pride balked. Yet she was still considering it, all because of a devastatingly addictive pair of blue eyes.

What was wrong with her?

Chapter Nine

Stephanie had a way of setting off his temper like no other.

As they walked down the street toward her apartment, he kept his composure, but inside he was simmering. She absolutely refused to accept his help. Period. It was both incredibly irritating and rather impressive. He admired her bravery, her determination.

What he wasn’t so fond of? The stubborn pride that turned bravery and determination into obstinate foolishness.

She really was just like her brother.

They rounded the corner, hand in hand. It was odd how naturally the farce had bled into reality—how they touched with such casual ease, accepting it without question. Her ring occasionally scratched the edges of his fingers, and he bit back a smile, his irritation bleeding away like vapor. He’d planned on buying something small and inexpensive. Something she wouldn’t reject on principle. But when he’d seen this ring—
her
ring—locked away behind glass, he’d given in to impulse. Never mind the cost. Never mind that their engagement was fake.

It was hers, and he wanted her to keep it.

She’d been quiet ever since they’d left the restaurant. If he had to guess, she was likely still angry over the job offer. Yet another impulse, and a reminder why he’d learned—after his father had sneered at him one too many times—not to follow his impulses. He’d injured her pride. Made her feel like a charity case, and now he’d guaranteed that she’d never accept anything from him again.

He looked down at her and squeezed her hand gently. “Are you awake down there?”

“Hm?” She glanced up with a tight smile. “Yes. Just thinking.”

“About how to get rid of me?”

Her smile relaxed into a quiet laugh. “Something like that.”

They stopped at the stairs outside her building. She fidgeted with her purse and looked up at him. A thousand thoughts flitted through her eyes, not one lingering long enough for him to read it. She rested a feather-light hand to his chest.

“You can come up,” she said softly. “If you’d like. For a drink, or…”

A knife of desire cut straight through him. “Or?”

She shrugged one shoulder and looked away. “Or.” A smile flickered across her lips. “I have
Paranormal Activity 4
on DVD.”

He wasn’t interested in the film. He drew in a ragged breath, pulled her into his arms, and inhaled her sweet scent. He shouldn’t. Whether he followed his rules or started fresh tonight, he knew he shouldn’t. Stephanie was more than just some woman he’d met. She was sister to a man he almost considered family. If he hurt her, he betrayed the trust of a friend who had been with him since his youth.

He couldn’t do that.

“I want to,” he whispered into her hair. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Her fingers curled into the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer. She pressed her body against him, molding herself to the growing heat he couldn’t deny. Her eyes were dilated, liquid and hungry. “Give me one good reason not to.”

“You’re angry with me.”

Her fingers trailed over his chest. “I don’t hold grudges long.”

He took a shallow breath. “I’m leaving soon.”

Her lips brushed his jaw. “I don’t care.”

“You say that now.” He forced his hands to remain still against her back, when they ached to wander. “How will you feel when I leave?”

“Satisfied. Relaxed. A little sore.”

He laughed and pressed his face into her hair.

“You’re too much.”

“You keep saying that. Shut up and kiss me, Derek. You might find out I’m just enough.”

He groaned and leaned down, his lips a fraction of a breath from hers. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. Derek turned—and froze. His heart dropped to his feet, then rose painfully back up his throat.

Aaron.

He straightened and dropped his hands away from Stephanie quickly. “North Korea, huh?”

“I was recalled.” Aaron’s cold, flat gaze promised a slow, excruciating death. “Is there a reason neither of you have answered my calls since yesterday? I thought you’d been kidnapped.”

Stephanie pursed her lips. “You couldn’t check on satellite?”

“Don’t be flip, Stephanie,” Aaron said. “I was seriously worried.”

“No, you are seriously overprotective.” She glared at him and jabbed him in the chest with one manicured finger. Her softly rounded face was scrunched into a mask of annoyance, her little upturned nose wrinkled. “It’s been less than twenty-four hours, and I’m a grown woman. This goes
way
beyond overreacting. You didn’t need to fly back from…I don’t even want to know where you were.”

“North Korea,” Aaron and Derek answered simultaneously.

“Don’t want to know!”

She threw her hands up. Aaron’s eyes narrowed, and he caught her left hand and studied the ring closely. “That isn’t fake.”

“We needed a convincing prop,” Derek said. “Her investor comes from money. He’d recognize a fake.”

Even as he said it, it felt like more of a lie than the entire false engagement. That wasn’t why he’d bought the ring. And from the way Aaron was looking at him, he knew it too.

“No.” Stephanie jerked her hand back. “You don’t get to do this, Aaron. You don’t get to interrogate me, or Derek. I’m tired of it. You keep throwing your asshole friends at me and pouting when I don’t like them. I finally met one I like and he’s doing me a favor, and you’re turning it into the Spanish Inquisition? Christ, no wonder you two get along. Two control freaks.” She swept them both with a furious look. “I don’t need to be controlled. By either of you.”

Before either man could speak, the building door slammed in their faces and Stephanie’s spike heels were stomping away through the lobby. Derek stared at the door helplessly. That had spiraled out of control rather quickly—and proved exactly why he shouldn’t be kissing Aaron’s sister.

“Well,” Aaron said. “Normally she throws in a few more F-bombs. That went surprisingly well.”

“If that’s what you want to call it.” Derek dragged a hand back through his hair. “Before I get the third degree, I need a beer.”


They walked to the hotel in companionable silence. Once, long ago, there had been many late nights like this, walking back to the dorms from the library and yet another all-night study session, or dragging Aaron home over his shoulder after yet another disastrous date. Derek had been the reliable one, out of all their friends. The one they always called when they were in trouble. Yet while he was there, being steady and patient, they’d been out living. He wondered, now, if he hadn’t missed more than he’d thought.

“You’re getting attached,” Aaron said into the silence.

Derek said nothing.

Aaron shrugged. “I won’t lie. Out of anyone I’d pick for her, you’re the best. I just never thought you’d be…I don’t know.”

“Human enough?”

“Compatible. Though I guess that’s not my call to make,” Aaron said, pensive and quiet.

Derek eyed him. “You arranged for me to meet her.”

“I thought you could help with her project. I never thought the one time I wasn’t trying to set her up, she’d fall for the guy.” He sighed. “She’s right, though. I suppose I try too hard to make sure she stays that awkward little girl with the perpetually skinned knees…and it’s not my place to do that anymore. I shouldn’t have come. Just when she didn’t answer the phone, I thought of—” He broke off and glanced at Derek sidelong, with a touch of wistful humor. “She called you inhuman?”

“The T-1000.”

“That’s a good one.” Aaron slid his hands into his pockets, looking up at the sky with a sigh. “You’re leaving tomorrow, Derek. Don’t hurt her. She’s been in enough bad relationships already.”

Are you so certain I’d be bad for her?

They said nothing else until they were hunched over barstools, surrounded by the noise and smoke-shot lights of the hotel bar. The basketball game was on the big screen over the bar, and Derek watched a couple of free throw fumbles before giving up and turning his attention to his beer. He’d finished half of it before Aaron broke the silence.

“You do have one thing in common.”

“And that is?”

“When you don’t answer, you don’t like what I’ve said.”

Derek took a deep breath. “I’m not leaving tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t make me answer that.”

“It’s because of Stephanie.” Aaron watched him carefully, his eyes betraying nothing.

“Not…entirely.” Derek’s gaze returned to the television, but he didn’t really see it. “I didn’t realize until now just how much I needed some time away. My inbox looks like a nightmare, but the company hasn’t exploded yet. So maybe it’s good for me to…I don’t know. Get out. Not necessarily a vacation, but…”

“A vacation,” Aaron said firmly. When Derek looked at him, he shrugged. “I’ve been watching you work yourself to the bone since freshman year. You have to slow down some time. Miami’s a good place for that. Sun, sand, and bikini bodies.”

Derek could think of only one bikini body that interested him.

They finished two rounds in a comfortable quietude that Derek hadn’t realized he’d missed until now. He and Aaron had kept in touch after college, but it wasn’t the same as being there. He’d never needed to say a word. Aaron and the rest of their group had always just known. He’d needed to be there with them, and was no less their friend for all that he didn’t join in their laughter and horseplay.

He suddenly wondered where the others were. Chris, and Michael, and Gray. He thought he remembered seeing an article about Gray in
Newsweek
a few years ago, something about a brilliant architectural achievement. He’d meant to at least send a card to congratulate him. Email him. Pick up the phone. Something. He’d never gotten around to it, because he’d been too busy negotiating a corporate merger.

It was definitely time to slow down.

They finished their beers and stepped out into the lobby. Aaron stopped, studying him in silence. “So…not entirely because of Stephanie?”

Derek took his time answering, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t yet sure how he felt, honestly, and didn’t want to lie to Aaron—but he couldn’t stand to let the man think Derek would do anything to hurt his sister.

“Stephanie is a strong factor in it,” he finally said. “But how strong a factor is up to her.”

“As if she’d have it any other way.” Aaron laughed. “I know my sister. If she has anything to say about it, she’ll chase you out of Miami as soon as your business is done.”

“I only hope I can change her mind.”

“Good luck with that. You’re both adults. I won’t interfere.” Aaron turned away, raising one hand in a casual wave. “Be careful, Derek. It’s her choice, but she’s still my sister. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

So do I,
Derek thought, and went upstairs to his room.


Women confused him.

Throughout the entire opera, Stephanie had been all smiles—both for Wheeler and for him. Even when he’d dozed off during one of the longer arias, she’d just patted his arm fondly and nudged him awake. Gone was her ire of the night before, not so much as a flash of irritation or a moment’s pause to control her temper for the sake of their little stage play. But Derek had the feeling he wasn’t off the hook yet, and wondered when the guillotine would fall.

Mr. Wheeler exited the theater ahead of them, separated by a throng of people who pushed them apart in a widening gap. Outside, Stephanie hugged herself and shivered. How could she possibly be cold? She’d never last through a D.C. winter.

Then again, she’d never have to, because she’d refused his offer.

Derek shrugged his jacket off and laid it over her shoulders. She shot him a grateful smile. He pulled her against his side and signaled for a taxi. Within a few moments a yellow cab pulled curbside, and he ushered her into her seat before taking his own. He settled back and looked out the window. She poked him in the ribs.

“Did you sleep through the whole thing?”

“My eyes were open the entire time.”

She pursed her lips. “What was it about?”

“…a man seeking salvation from God during the French revolution?”

“Wrong show.”

“Guilty as charged.” He tilted his head back against the seat. “I didn’t listen. But I wasn’t asleep.”

“Mmhm.”

She said nothing else, only looked out the window. He sighed. He used to be better at waiting out negotiations than this.

“I wasn’t trying to control you,” he said.

She glanced back at him. “Hm?”

“What you said last night. Wanting to help you isn’t wanting to control you.”

“Oh.” She flushed. “That was mostly for Aaron. I didn’t mean to—I—you know how brothers and sisters are. We yell at each other, then forget. I didn’t mean for you to get caught in the backlash.” She peeked at him. “Is that why you’ve been tense all night?”

“I haven’t been tense.”

“Walking on eggshells,” she retorted with a sly smile. “It’s cute.”

He snorted. “Are we still meeting Aaron for drinks?”

She yawned and checked her phone. “Yeah. I texted him. He’s meeting us at the bar by my place in ten.”

He studied the dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted, and he wanted to sweep her up and carry her to bed. “You look tired. Are you sure you don’t want to go home and crawl into bed?”

“Are you offering to join me?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

She rolled her eyes. “Still too serious.”

“I’m a work in progress.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. The scent of her perfume made him want to bury his face in her hair and take her all in. Slowly, he lifted his hand and cupped the back of her head, threading his fingers into her hair and kneading gently. She sighed and snuggled closer.

Within two minutes, her entire body had gone lax, and she was breathing evenly. Something warm and unfamiliar washed over him. She’d fallen asleep on him, just like a trusting little kitten.

He retrieved his phone, careful not to jostle her, and sent Aaron a quick text; he’d be drinking alone tonight. When the cab stopped at her building, he paid the driver and gingerly extracted her from the car. Her eyes fluttered open when he swung her into his arms.

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