Fake Marriage Box Set

bucket.”

Ron chuckled and handed me a container as I said goodbye to Milo.

“I’ll see you on Friday,” he said, and we exchanged goodbyes. Nancie was waiting when I arrived home, and as expected she squealed when I asked her to go shopping with me.

“Who’s Gavin again?” she asked after eating her share of fish.

“Just some guy,” I said. “He’s not important though. It’s the other people who might be there.” We ended the night trying to decide what type of dress I would wear while looking up apartments in Hollywood that Nancie had been considering. They all were studios, but I chose not to say anything.

Chapter Five

Gavin

Mom’s legs were weak as she stood in front of her vanity and applied light touches of blush to her cheeks. She wanted to add color to her otherwise pale face before this mistake of a dinner, and I had special-ordered a custom powder from France and had it delivered to her within the day.

“I really wish you would reconsider this,” I said as I stood in the doorway of her room. My suit jacket was uncomfortable and itchy, a fancy designer jacket that mom had gushed about the minute she saw it in a catalog. It had been overnighted to me as well, along with pinstriped pants and leather shoes that practically still smelled like the cow it came from. I was uncomfortable in such an outfit.

“This is what I want,” she said. “Our closest friends and family together for dinner one last time before they find out. I just want to have a simple conversation without the constant reminder that I’m dying.”

“Our closest friends and family?” I laughed. “These people haven’t visited you once in the past half year.”

“People get busy with their lives,” mom said. “That doesn’t mean they care about us any less. If anything, I hope that they learn a lesson from me.”

“Your life is not a lesson,” I argued. Mom turned to me with a sad smile.

“But shouldn’t it be? Shouldn’t we all be lessons?” She finished her blush and leaned against the chair. She had a sudden burst of energy from the excitement of planning this dinner, but it seemed it was beginning to fade.

I didn’t want to upset her and ruin the night, so I nodded and helped her finish getting ready. She ordered a pair of custom tailored heels for the night, despite my concerns of her wearing such a heel, and slipped into them before heading over to my house. Already there were a dozen cars parked in my stretched driveway, and a hired butler was greeting people at the door as he subtly asked for their names.

Mom and I went in through the back, into an entertainment room that was sectioned away from the house. A hired worker for the night handed me a slip of paper that listed the guests who already arrived.

“Thank you,” I said and glanced at it. Twenty-five names were marked down, barely half of the invitations. Most everyone had RSVP’d, with just two expressing their sorrow that they couldn’t attend such a last-minute extravagant affair. Mom leaned on my shoulder as I led her to the grand foyer. She lit up as old friends greeted us, and I shook hands with several second and third cousins whom I forgot were related to us.

“Gavin, boy,” an older man in his sixties pushed my shoulder in a greeting. I smiled and turned to find Bill Schild, the very man who had purchased dad’s company for the billions that he thought were worth it. “Glad to see life is going well with you.”

“Thanks, Bill,” I said. “How’s Schild Corp?” He had changed the name from Hayward Corp to his own nearly the minute the transfer was complete.

“It’s moving smoothly. Your dad really built a wonderful company; don’t ever forget that,” he said and excused himself for the bar.

I grimaced and held my tongue. Of course, I knew it was a wonderful company.

Another handful of guests arrived, and I stood by mom’s side as we welcomed them, each face a disappointment as I looked for my best friend. Appetizers would be ready within the hour, and it wouldn’t be surprising for Ron to show up at the very last minute. Had he known what this was truly about, he would have been the first one.

Ron’s own mother had been absent in his life for the past 10 years, starting after his father passed, and my mom had taken it upon herself to treat him like a son. His mother had been my dad’s best friend, and in a way, Ron shared just a few traits of dad. His laugh, the way he was the life of the party, his inappropriate humor. Mom recognized them, and sometimes I caught her staring in his direction with a sad, soft smile.

Maybe she saw dad in both of us, and that’s why she was always happy when Ron and I were together. In a way, it was keeping dad alive as well.

The clock struck five, and the butler announced appetizers. I had arranged for a top tier restaurant to recreate their most popular dishes in my kitchen, and the hired workers would be arranging the appetizers on a giant, oak dinner table that I purchased hours after mom first suggested this dinner. Before my dinner table was for a quaint family of five, and as mom continued listing the guests she would invite, I realized that I was going to need an upgrade.

I hadn’t realized how empty my house was until mom hired a cleaner and a decorator. The cleaner had the easiest job; the decorator hadn’t known what to do. There were whole rooms on the first floor that were entirely empty, and the entertainment room had only a computer nudged into the corner. Two of the upstairs bedrooms were furnished, one mine and the other a guest room in case Ron was ever to inebriated to drive, and I had only two televisions. We purchased several more and turned on several games for the guests to enjoy.

In fact, the only useful part of the house that wasn’t new was the giant bar with the marble top and oak cabinets built into a wall between the kitchen and dining room. It had enough room for a dozen to sit at, and enough space to store at least a year’s worth of alcohol. I designed it myself.

Beef cuts smothered in bacon jam nestled in a bed of fried potatoes were arranged on the dinner table, and the guests began to enjoy themselves with a glass plate in one hand and a drink in the other. I had a glass of imported bourbon in mine as mom excused herself from the group she was speaking with and greeted Ron at the door.

I finished my appetizer and met him halfway when I realized he brought along a woman. In fact, he had brought a beautiful woman.

She was tall and lean, with soft brown hair braided down the middle of her back. There was a tint of red in her hair beneath the light, and she wore a tight black dress that clung to her curves in all the right spots. I bit my lip as my eyes ran over her body, all too aware that it had been ages since I’ve bedded a woman, much less a woman like her. She must have been a model, and I was trying to remember if Ron had ever mentioned meeting a beautiful woman when she turned as Ron gestured toward me, and then I saw her eyes.