Fake Marriage Box Set

Andrew stared down at me for a long moment, his palm cupping my cheek. “So are you,” he said, and it should have been cheesy, but somehow it wasn't.

He kissed me, and I felt my heart swell with happiness. I wished that things could stay like this, forever. Just us, our family, there on the yacht, watching fireworks in the warm evening twilight. I was pretty sure that I'd never been so happy before in my life, and I wanted to hang on to it.

Andrew pulled back, breaking the kiss, but he continued to hold me close as we returned to watching the fireworks and our daughter's delighted antics.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Andrew

I couldn't help whistling as I headed out to my car that evening. We were on track to pull in record profits that quarter at Orinoco, and I'd had a couple afternoon meetings that day which had gone exceedingly well. Couple that with a few great days off the previous weekend, where Lexi and I had taken Emma camping for the first time, and I was really starting to realize how great my life was.

That was, until I got close to my car, one of the last ones in the parking lot that evening because I did have to work late some nights, and saw someone lurking there waiting for me.

I immediately pulled out my phone, planning to call security. It could just be one of my coworkers wanting to discuss one last detail before we headed home for the day, but I doubted it. It could also be someone having trouble with their car and needing help getting home for the night. But I doubted they'd be waiting here for me if that were the case. They'd be more likely to wait by the exit to the building.

Whoever it was, they were there waiting for me specifically. And I feared it meant they might try to mug me, or even kidnap me and ransom me.

Or worse, that they've kidnapped Emma and Lexi and are looking for you to pay to find out where they were, I thought.

I forced myself to walk forward with measured steps, knowing that if I showed how worried I was, things could escalate quickly. But I breathed out noisily when I realized who was really there, lurking in the shadows next to my car. I should have known. Fucking Renée.

“You psycho bitch,” I swore. “You've gone too far this time. What the fuck are you doing? Stalking me?”

“Of course not,” Renée said, tossing her hair casually back over her shoulder. She stepped closer to me. “Anyway, it's good to see you, too.” She sounded sarcastic, as though she really expected there should be any reason for me to welcome her presence here.

“Get away from my car,” I spat. “I'm going home.”

“You should take a look at what I've got first,” Renée said, waving around a file folder.

“I don't give a shit,” I told her, incensed. “Whatever it is that you think you've got there, you can shove it up your ass. Stay the fuck away from me and my family. And if I see you near my company again, I'll have no choice but to call the police and get a restraining order.”

I didn't really want to do that. The paperwork would be messy, and I knew that the tabloids would be all over it. Renée came from a wealthy family, and I respected her father quite a bit. I knew that he wouldn't want to see his daughter's reputation ruined. But it was getting to the point where she was leaving me no choice.

“Just read it, would you?” Renée snarled, shoving the folder against my chest so that I had no choice but to accept it.

I rolled my eyes and flipped it open, making a big show of glancing through it.

“I had a private investigator do a little digging,” Renée told me. “Of course, it was hard to find someone willing to bend a few minor laws and do what I required, but once I found the guy, it was almost too easy. You're being conned.”

“Oh, am I?” I asked, deciding just to humor her so that I could finally go home and get some peace and quiet.

“The private investigator was able to get some hairs to do a little DNA testing,” she said. “And I, of course, had plenty of samples of your hair on the clothes that you left at my place.”

I stared at her, wondering where she was going with this. I glanced at my watch and saw that it was even later than I'd told Lexi that it would be. I was rapidly getting impatient.

“She set you up,” Renée said triumphantly. “You aren't the father of that brat. The bitch is just trying to extort money out of you, and you're playing right along with it! This isn't the first time, either. At least once in the past, she's been arrested for fraud. Not in the state of Washington, of course, but my private investigator was able to find out everything about her.”

I sighed and pressed my fingertips to my temples. “I don't believe a word that you're saying,” I told her. “Especially since a simple DNA test would, in fact, prove if Lexi was conning me or not, and she knows very well that I have all the resources to have one ordered and expedited. She wouldn't have been stupid enough to try it.”

“That's all part of her scheme, though,” she crowed. “You didn't actually get the DNA test done, did you? She tells you that you could, and you assume that she would only say that if the brat truly was yours. But then you never actually go through with the paternity test, and you never find out that she's conning you.” She shook her head. “To be honest, I didn't realize what a scam she was running until you made that comment about how I was just mad that her skills were better than mine and that she'd been able to trick her way into your life. If you hadn't said that, I might never have uncovered all of that evidence.”

“This is hardly evidence,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Sure, you got some guy to pull together what you claimed was Emma's hair and my hair. And I’d like to know how the fuck you got it. For all I know, you're the one trying to con me.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” Renée said, and for a moment, I wondered if she actually believed the words coming out of her mouth. Especially when she continued. “I know that you and I are over. You made that quite clear the last time I saw you, when I came to your office. I understand that. But I still care about you. We were friends first, remember? Before we started dating.” She ignored my concern over the validity of the hair sample. It wouldn’t be too hard to get, but it was disturbing nevertheless.

“What we were can hardly qualify as friends,” I said acidly.

“Whatever you want to call it then,” Renée said, rolling her eyes. “We ran in the same circles. We grew up together. We had a relationship long before we were dating. I don't want to see you get conned, especially not by some girl from the wrong side of the tracks. You always were too nice to people.”