Fake Marriage Box Set

I eyed my gas tank as I drove to Ron’s house nearly on the other side of town. I hadn’t been planning on filling up my tank until the end of the week, which was still four days away. Maybe Ron would slip me some dollars alongside the leftovers. It wouldn’t be the first time.

His house was a simple one story on the edge of a cul-de-sac, something that I always imagined a man settled down with a wife and kids would purchase and grow old in. That wasn’t Ron, of course; he was happier bringing home a different woman every night and sending her away before the sun rose.

He greeted me at the door with a grin and a beer outstretched in his hands. I shook my head and moved past him toward the living room to set down my purse. His new puppy, an adorable, Great Dane named Milo, was snoring soundly on the couch.

“I don’t waste calories on beer,” I said. “Especially when it takes like five of them to get a decent buzz.”

“Sounds like a problem,” he said and replaced the beer with a glass of wine. I decided against complaining about the sugary calories in wine and accepted it. Milo woke with a groggy yawn and greeted me with kisses.

“Thanks,” I said as I took the glass of wine. “How’s the fish fry going?” His house smelled of albacore and fresh spices, making my stomach rumble as the minutes passed.

“It’s going,” he said. “You’ll have enough to feed the both of you for a month.” Milo promptly went back to sleep.

“Until Nancie moves to California,” I said and sat on the couch. Ron raised an eyebrow. “She got a job offer there, the chance of a lifetime.”

“No shit?” he asked and joined me on the other side of Milo. He sipped on his own beer as he kicked back and relaxed, and Milo stretched and made a comfortable spot on Ron’s lap. “Nancie in the States? How do you feel about that?”

“I want to join her obviously,” I said. “God knows there’s way more gigs in Hollywood than there are in Fairbanks.” I welcomed the bitter wine on my throat.

“Toothpaste commercials ain’t cutting it, huh?” he joked. I grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his head, not wanting to relive the awful week I spent smiling at a camera. The only things I got from that gig had been sore cheeks and a check for a hundred dollars.

“I’m happy for Nancie; she deserves it,” Ron said. “That girl practically poses in her sleep.”

“And how would you know that?” I frowned. “You’ve been stalking her at night?”

“She wishes.” He laughed and left to check on the fish. He returned with a sample for me as Milo sniffed the air. It was flaky and buttery, with a slight crisp on the outside that was salty and sweet at the same time.

“It’s delicious,” I said. “Nancie’s going to love it.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be winning her heart over with my fish fry anytime soon,” he said and refilled my wine.

“Only two glasses,” I said. “I have to drive home eventually.”

“I got you. The fish is ready if you want to eat,” he said, and I followed him into the kitchen. We made our own plates and sat at the table with Milo at our feet.

His house was quaint with second-hand furniture and electronics that were at least two years old. Ron didn’t live a life of luxury or restraint; he was more in-between. His fishing business had done well for him, just enough for him not to worry about bills and a little extra to spoil his favorite cousin. I smiled at the thought of the first time he had gifted me a present after taking over his dad’s company. A small vanity mirror, since I had complained that all of the models had their own. My next present had been the script for my favorite movie, a romantic musical about a bohemian lifestyle set in Paris, and the very same movie on Blu-Ray.

“So are you okay?” he asked as we ate our fish. “I mean, you two are best friends, and she’s following the same dreams you have.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said honestly. “I won’t lie though; I can’t help but feel jealous. Nancie is already buying designer clothes and wearing expensive jewelry, and not just ones she gets from shoots.”

“She’s enjoying the finer things life has to offer,” he said.

“I want to enjoy those, too,” I said. “And I know you do as well. You’ve been saving up for one of those new TVs, with the 4K, and that new gaming console that’s sold out anywhere.”

“Well, of course, I’m going to want to buy the things I like,” he said. “But Maddie, that doesn’t mean I’m not happy without them.”

“You sound just like mom and dad,” I finished the two fillets on my plate and thanked Ron as he placed one more on it. Milo groaned as Ron walked to and from the kitchen. “I just don’t understand how this family is so okay with living in debt and barely paying bills. Don’t they want more? I know mom would love a hundred-year-old bottle of wine, and dad an outing at an actual golf course, not just put-put at the local YMCA. You can’t tell me money isn’t everything when it quite literally is.”

“Money means a lot, I agree with that,” he said. “But it doesn’t mean happiness. Gavin’s the richest asshole in the state and trust me when I say the bastard’s always moping around.”

“Gavin doesn’t realize what he has then,” I said, remembering that Ron’s childhood best friend had sold his father’s company and made several billion dollars from it. “He could move to the States, get a giant mansion, a yacht, buy out a theme park and put his face on every window if he wanted. He doesn’t because he’s spoiled.”

“I don’t know about that.” Ron fidgeted, and I realized I must have said something offensive. “Look, you want to live the rich life, right? Gavin’s having a dinner at his house on Friday. Come with me, and you can see how they live. I guarantee you’ll realize there’s more to happiness than just money.”

I considered his offer. It had been at least six years since I’ve even seen Gavin. Back then he was just the weird best friend of my cousin, a man barely out of college who didn’t seem to have anything to do with his life. Ron had filled me in only a little, something about his dad’s death and mom’s illness, but our paths hadn’t crossed in so long that he barely took more than a second of my thoughts in the past several years. But a fancy dinner party at a fancy house meant that I could wear a fancy dress, and who knows, maybe there would be important guests at dinner. Nancie believed in taking every opportunity that presented itself, to broaden your connections just in case. And Nancie would be thrilled to go shopping with me.

“I’ll go,” I said. “Now, can I get the rest of the fish to go? Nancie will kill me if I come home smelling like fried fish without bringing her a