The Boss's Fake Fiancee (19 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

Melissa stared into her microwave, watching the frozen square of lasagna spin slowly on the glass plate. The thought of eating it made her gag. Maybe she’d just forget about it and have another pint of ice cream instead. That, and a few more aspirin.

Or maybe just a glass of wine.

She glanced at the clock. Just past noon. Maybe she’d wait a few hours before she opened the wine.

It was Saturday. The fourth day—not that she was counting—since she’d told him good-bye. No one knew what had happened. She’d told her co-workers at Solen Labs that she was sick and needed to work from home, even as she began to tie up some of her projects. She’d conferenced in for a few meetings. Garth, she noted, was absent from all of them, even the ones he had planned to attend.

“Where’s the boss?” her friend Hal had asked her yesterday, in a staff meeting she’d attended by phone. “Is he sick, too?”

“You know him,” she’d said with a laugh, making light of the question. “Never around when you need him.” But the wondering about him never ceased. Was he avoiding her out of basic courtesy, or did he share some of this heart-wrenching pain? Had he already moved on, forgotten about the ring that she hadn’t been able to remove from her finger? Did he regret pushing her away, or had he found a way to bury the emotion, like all the other feelings he’d squelched along the way?

The front door buzzed. Melissa glanced at her watch. Tori had said she might stop by, but she was supposed to be looking at office spaces for her new law practice until one.

Melissa pushed the intercom. “Yes?”

“’Lis, it’s Brit. Can you come down for a minute? I need to show you something.”

Though she knew it had to have been hard for him, Brit had been remarkably restrained since the night of the auction. He hadn’t left for Aruba, like she’d suggested, but he hadn’t made any new, dramatic, “I’ll kill him” sort of pledges. No worried hovering or nagging. Just a quiet, concerned voice on the phone each morning.
Do you need anything? Can I come by tonight?

What would he do when he found out the truth? That the engagement was over, and Garth wanted nothing to do with her? She dreaded that moment almost as much as she dreaded the prospect of waking up each morning without Garth’s arms around her, or his lean body pressed against her side.

Melissa frowned. “Why don’t you come up?”

“I can’t. Just come down.”

He sounded odd. Happy or sad, she couldn’t tell. “What’s going on?”

“’Lis.” He put on his big brother voice. “Come down.”

“Fine.” She fluffed her bangs and grabbed her keys, waving at a neighbor as she made her way down the steps. When she pushed open the door her mouth fell open. “What the…” She sucked in a breath. “Garth? Mom? Tori?...Jess?!”

A small crowd had gathered around her stoop. Garth stood in the middle at the bottom of the steps. He held a small bouquet of pink roses in his hands. Just the sight of him—tall and broad-shouldered, his granite eyes fierce and strong—made her quiver, even while she told herself not to react to his presence.

He’s done with you, remember?

To one side of Garth stood Nan, beaming happily. Jess stood at Nan’s arm, pink tips of her hair gleaming. On the other side of Garth were Phoebe, John, Brit, and Tori. Ross and Joe were behind them. Ross’s kids—Luke, Matt, and Julia—clustered around him. Felicity held Delia in her arms. Tori’s eyes were suspiciously bright.

“I don’t understand.” Melissa stood still, blinking rapidly. “Garth, what’s going on?”

She had a terrible, sinking feeling in her chest. Nan must have had a relapse, or something had gone wrong at work. This had to be an act Garth was putting on for someone’s benefit. But why had he assembled her family? Why was Jess here? And if Nan was so sick, why did she look so relaxed and proud?

A stranger stepped forward. He was small and stout, and wore a short-sleeved, plaid oxford shirt and khaki pants held high on his stomach with a thick belt. In one hand, he held a notebook, which he flipped open. “Ms. Bencher,” he said, “I’m Stanley Hartwaddle.”

“What?” Melissa forced her gaze away from Garth, who was staring at her with an uncanny intensity. “Who?”

“Stanley Hartwaddle. I write for the
New York Star Herald
.”

“Oh!” Melissa vaguely recalled his name attached to some articles about her and Garth. “Um, what the heck are you doing here?”

“Your fiancé asked me to come down and help.”

“Help?” Melissa looked back at Garth, and then around the circle of grinning faces. Amid her confusion, a tiny shred of hope began to blossom in her chest.

“Yes, help.” Stanley looked down at his notebook. “Mr. Solen has asked me to be the master of ceremonies for this event.”

“This event?” Melissa cocked her head in confusion. “What event? Why isn’t Garth speaking for himself? And why would he call in the press? You’ll forgive me, but he hates the press.”

“Apparently, that’s part of the reason I’m here. He’d like for you to understand that he is willing to make this public in any forum you choose.”

Melissa darted a look at Garth, and then glanced around the circle. “I’m not sure I have any idea what’s going on, but okay. Go ahead.”

Stanley cleared his throat. His carriage reminded Melissa of a medieval page, reading an important announcement from a scroll. “Mr. Solen has drafted a letter, which he will read in a moment. However, in light of his concern that he may lose his voice, or experience some emotional calamity which may make it difficult to speak, he has asked me to stand by and be prepared to step in as needed.”

“Okay,” Melissa said slowly. She stared at Garth, but directed her words to Stanley. “Why don’t you tell him to go ahead.”

Stanley nodded. “Mr. Solen,” he said, with a regal gesture toward Garth. “I believe you may start.”

Garth, who had been standing in uncharacteristic stillness, clutching the roses in his hand, stepped forward. He took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. He cleared his throat, and began to read.

“‘My dearest Melissa, you know I am not good with words, particularly in a situation like this. One in which my very heart, my life, is on the line. So I’ve asked our friends and family to help me.’”

Melissa froze. Garth’s gaze flickered from the paper to her face. She could feel the emotion spilling out from him in an intensity that transcended the physical distance between them.

“‘I hope you don’t mind that they are here, or that I have prepared this letter ahead of time. You know me well enough to understand how difficult this is, and how much it scares me to say these words. But in the past three weeks you have changed me. I thought I was destined for a life of solitude and loneliness. You made me realize I could have more. When you told me you loved me, I panicked. I thought it would be better to lose my chance at happiness than to risk losing my heart. But I was wrong.’”

Melissa fought a wave of tears. She raised one hand to her mouth as her chin trembled.

“‘I love you, Melissa. I love you with every beat of my heart and breath in my lungs.’”

Garth paused and took a deep breath. He lowered the paper, and Melissa felt him caress her with the sweep of his gaze. When he spoke again, it was as if no one else was present, and he was speaking right into her heart. “You must know how sorry I am that I was too scared to say this before. I’m sorry that I did not know how to make sense of the feelings in my heart. I am even more sorry for any hurt I may have caused you. Nothing matters to me now but you, and my hope that you might be willing to give me a second chance.”

Garth stopped. Stanley gestured toward John and Phoebe. “Mr. and Mrs. Bencher, I believe you are next.”

Melissa brushed aside the tears spilling down her cheeks and turned to her parents.

“This morning, Garth called us,” Phoebe said, smiling at Melissa. “He explained everything that had happened, and apologized for not coming to us sooner. Then he asked John for permission to marry you. For real.”

Melissa gave a shaky laugh. “And?”

“I said yes.” John looked back at Garth. “I admit I was skeptical, but this guy is truly in love with you. It didn’t take much for us to change our minds.”

“We hope you’ll give him a second chance, Melissa,” Phoebe said.

Stanley gestured toward Ross and Joe.

“Garth called us right after he spoke to Dad,” Joe said, pushing his untidy hair out of his face and straightening his glasses. “He apologized for lying, and told us how he needed our support.”

Ross gave Garth a meaningful look. “I told him he had a second chance, but not to count on a third.”

Melissa gave a watery laugh. “Thanks, caveman.”

Ross and Joe moved back and Tori and Brit approached Melissa. By this time, a small crowd of bystanders had begun to form. Garth didn’t seem to notice, or care. He was focused on her, flowers still tightly gripped in one hand, eyes never straying from her face.

“Melissa, when I introduced you to Garth, I have to admit I had dreamed that maybe, possibly, you might be the one to bring him out of his shell.” Tori beamed through her tears. “I really, really hope you give him another chance, because I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather have for a sister.”

Brit scowled, but Melissa saw a smile lurking in his eyes. “I told him he’s the luckiest guy on earth,” he said. “I also told him next time I’ll give him a nose to match mine.”

“My turn!” Nan chirped from the other side of the circle. “Melissa, dear, I can only tell you this: my grandson is far from perfect, but he’s going to love you more than you can imagine. You’ll have to help him sometimes, because he’s going to do stupid things, but I promise, it will be worth it.”

Jess nodded. “Yeah. What she said. He’s not really a jerk. He just acts like one sometimes.”

Everyone laughed, even the bystanders. When the sound had died down, Stanley waved at Melissa to get her attention. “Now, one last thing. Mr. Solen, if you please.”

Garth came closer, stopping just a foot from the edge of the steps. “Melissa, I…” His voice cracked, and his lips twisted in a sheepish half smile. “Look, you know I’m miserable at this, but I…” He tried to say something else, but his voice caught in his throat.

Then he bent down on one knee and held out the roses. There was a pause as he struggled to find his voice, and Melissa had to restrain herself from hurtling her body down the steps at him. Finally, he looked back up at her. His granite eyes were soft, misty, and heartbreakingly hopeful. “Melissa Bencher, I love you with all my heart and soul. You’re the part of me I didn’t know was missing and the part I can’t live without. You’ve already got my ring, twice over, but you’ve got my heart, too, and I can’t imagine living without it, or you. Melissa, darling, will you marry me?”

“Yes, you silly man, yes! Yes!” Melissa flew down the steps, barely hearing the applause from the crowd. Garth stood as she reached him and swept her into his arms as she grabbed his shoulders. He hugged her around the waist, lifting her off the ground. His lips found hers in one long, perfect kiss. When he sat her back down, Melissa felt the love connecting and tying them together.

“Forever, my love,” she whispered, holding his face in her hands and kissing him one more time.

The circle of friends and family closed in around them. Her parents and brothers slapped Garth on the back, while Tori managed to wedge herself in between them for a double hug.

As the people crowded around, Melissa heard Stanley say to someone, “Now that’s what I call a happy ending.”

And it was.

Epilogue

“That is disgusting.”

Melissa giggled at the look of horror on Luke’s face. Ross’s ten-year-old son might be comfortable putting spiders and toads into his pocket, but baby spit-up was completely outside his comfort zone.

“Honey, it’s just a little bit of milk.” She shifted the ruddy-cheeked baby on her chest and rubbed her cheek gently against his soft head. The smell of talcum powder, milk, and the indefinable scent of
baby
sent an avalanche of love over her.

“But it’s, like,
chunky
.” Luke recoiled further as Melissa wiped the white material from the infant’s mouth with a soft cloth.

“Just imagine how much grosser the stuff that comes out the other end is.” Ross sauntered across the room, grabbing Patrick from Melissa’s arms without pause and moving to the window overlooking the backyard where Delia and Matt played on the newly appointed play structure. As he walked, Ross bounced the six-week-old with the ease of a three-time father.

It was Thanksgiving, and the entire Bencher family had joined Nan, Jess, Melissa, and Garth at Seesaw for the holiday. Even Brit and Tori had driven down for the night, though they planned to stay at a hotel a few miles away so Patrick wouldn’t keep everyone awake at night. Nan sat in her favorite chair by the fire, watching the bustle of the family with a happy smile. Joe and Felicity had run into town to buy a can of cranberries, while Jess and Phoebe argued in the kitchen about how often to baste the turkey.

Melissa wasn’t sure it was possible to be happier or more content. Even the house seemed to be glowing with the pleasure of full beds, a hot fire, and the noise of children running up and down the stairs.

“Where’s Tori?” Ross asked.

“Grabbing a few minutes of sleep,” Brit replied from the couch. “I think Paddy was up every hour last night.” He set down the newspaper he’d been reading, stretched, and rubbed the thick dark shadow on his jaw. “And watch his head, would you? I’m not sure that’s a good position for him. Who said you could hold him, anyway?”

Ross chuckled. “You’re the worst new dad I’ve ever seen. I raised three of them, you know.”

“Dad,” Luke hollered from the back door, “Dad, I’ve got the football. You coming?”

“In a minute,” Ross called.

Melissa joined her brothers at the window, watching as Luke ran outside, his breath making a frosty halo in the wintery air. “Did you tell them?” she asked.

Ross sighed. “No sense worrying them. Their mother just put her name in for the job in Colorado. It could be months before she hears anything.”

Brit frowned. He reached out and took his son, easily shifting him over one shoulder. “And if she goes?”

Ross shrugged. “Then I go, too. I’m not having my kids halfway across the country from me.”

“I know it’s selfish, but I really hope she doesn’t get the job.” Melissa sighed and leaned against the window. Though the thought of her brother leaving was painful, it wasn’t a surprise. Ross was willing to do just about anything for his kids—even if that meant dropping everything to be with them.

At the sound of her voice, Brit turned, eyes narrowed. “You okay, ’Lis? You’re looking a little pale.”

She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.” A wave of nausea threatened her casual dismissal of his concern, but she fought it off. “Just tired. Garth and I have been working late all week, trying to get the data from the ThinkSpeak prototypes analyzed before the holiday. We should be ready to get our first two commercial units in the field by Christmas.”

Brit glowered. “If you’re getting sick, you better stay away from Patrick.”

Ross eyed her shrewdly. “Wait a minute, are you—”

He was interrupted by the arrival of Garth, carrying a steaming cup of peppermint tea. Even though they’d been married for almost six months, the sight of Garth’s tall, broad-shouldered form still had the power to make Melissa quiver, especially when he gave her that look—the one that wrapped her in a cocoon of love and concern.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked, passing her the mug as he dropped a kiss on her cheek. Warm gray eyes gazed deep into hers as he wrapped a protective arm around her waist. “Crackers, maybe?”

A tiny smile began to dance in the corner of Ross’s mouth. “Crackers and peppermint tea, huh?”

Garth turned to Ross, his face a polite mask. “You have a problem with crackers and tea?”

Ross’s smile broadened. “Don’t even try that ice man thing on me, brother. I know you too well for that.”

Brit’s gaze moved back and forth between them. “Wait, what am I missing?”

“Sleep deprived much?” Ross said with a laugh. “Look at them! Garth’s all lit up like a—well, like you. Like a worried father.”

“Worried—” Brit drew in a breath. “Father? Jesus, Melissa, why didn’t you tell us?” He grabbed her in an unceremonious hug, almost sending her tea sailing through the air.

Melissa tried to bury her guilty smile. She shushed and pushed him off, darting a look at Nan, who had just nodded off in her chair. “We haven’t even seen a doctor yet. And we want to wait until we’re further along before we tell Nan. Just in case.”

Ross nodded. “I understand.” He claimed his own bear hug from Melissa, and then clasped Garth’s hand and shook it heartily. “Congratulations. I’m thrilled for you.”

Garth’s attempt at stoicism fell away. His shoulders dropped and he shook his head in wonder. He gathered Melissa into his arms, spooning her back against his stomach and dropping his head into the curve of her neck. “Thanks. But I have no idea how you guys survived this. I’m a wreck and it’s only been two weeks. How the hell are we going to get through nine months?”

Brit grinned. “Oh, you’ll make it.”

Ross nodded. “You’ll be fine. You’ve got each other.”

Melissa tipped her head to the side and looked at Garth. He whispered in her ear. “If you’ll still have me?”

She sighed happily. “Forever, my love. Forever.”