Fake Marriage Box Set

“I doubt he'd do that,” Mark said. “You might have been a prick to him, but you're still his brother, underneath it all.”

“But the media might have gone after him, given his name,” I pointed out.

Mark rolled his eyes. “Do you not realize how many dudes in the world have the last name 'Wall?’” he asked. “It's not exactly a unique surname.” When I still hesitated, Mark shook his head. “Come on,” he said. “You're not the person that I thought you were; you haven't been the Christian Wall since you've been here in Hawaii, and not since you and Gretchen have started your fling. Just be that person, admit that you're wrong, and I'm sure your brother will forgive you in a heartbeat. He'd have to.”

“Okay,” I finally said. “Figure out where he is, and take me there.”

Two hours later, I found myself standing nervously outside my brother's hotel room door. I smoothed down the bottom of my shirt and bit my lower lip, trying to think of what I wanted to say. I had a pretty good script for it in my head. Something in me wished that I had notecards with me or something like that, but I knew he would tell me I was being insincere if I pulled a stunt like that.

It wasn't that I was feeling at all insincere; I just wanted to script this, because otherw

ise, I was afraid-

“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff asked, coming up behind me.

And yes, just like I'd expected, I found that all the words I'd meant to say had left my brain.

On instinct, I pulled him into a rough hug, patting him on the back a few times. He was stiff against me, though. “I said, what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped when I had finally released him.

I ran a hand back through my hair, unable to meet his steely eyes. “I don't know,” I admitted, swallowing hard against a mouth suddenly gone dry. I thought hard about the conversation that Mark and I had had. I remembered how he had told me to be myself, not the guy who needed things to be scripted out before he could talk to the press. I knew what I needed to say. I took a deep breath and began.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “I should have said that years ago, but I didn't think that you would listen. And now I know that whether you listen to me or not, whether you believe me or not, it's important for me to say it. I'm sorry. I know that I was a dick to you. I made my money, and even though you were the only person who ever really supported me before the business started to take off, I totally ditched you. I quit meeting up with you. I quit even answering your emails. And there was that whole…”

I broke off, clearing my throat a little and looking guiltily off to the side. He knew exactly what I was referring to, without me delving into greater detail. “We have a lot of history,” I forged on. “And only some of that history has been good, but I remember when you were my best friend, Jeff. I'm not asking you to be that again, and I'm not even asking you to support me. I guess I'm asking you to believe that I'm sorry.”

Jeff stared at me for a long moment, and then he began a sarcastic slow clap. “Wow, Chris,” he said, shaking his head. “Just, wow. I didn't think you had it in you. Tell me, which one of your PR guys wrote that one? The same one who wrote your resignation speech from Sunrise Real Estate?”

“I haven't resigned,” I told him.

“Oh, really?” Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “Let's see, sure, maybe you haven't technically resigned. There was just that whole apology thing, where you said you were going to go fuck around for a few months, which I assume is what you're doing here in Hawaii?”

“It's not going to be a few months,” I told him. “I'm going back in a couple of weeks, in January. Once the New Year starts. They need me.”

“They need you,” Jeff scoffed. “What, they thrive off the bad press that you give them?”

“I'm the face of the company,” I said, shrugging a little. “Sure, I haven't acted like it in recent years. I have caused our stocks to dip, and I understand that more and more the longer I'm away from it. I'm starting to see how well the company could do if…” I swallowed hard. “If I was committed to it, and professional, and everything else that the guys always asked me to be.”

Jeff was staring at me for a long moment. “You look really serious.”

“I am really serious,” I said to him. “The longer I'm here in Hawaii, the more I realize that that the way I've been living, it hasn't been particularly healthy. For the company or me or the people around me. And I could do so much more.”

“But you're still sleeping with random chicks,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “I saw you, on the beach with that woman. Bet you took her home and-”

“Don't,” I interrupted. “Before you say anything against Gretchen, you should know that she's the only person who I've been with since I've come to Hawaii,” I told him. “She and I have been seeing each other at least a few times a week, and not just for sex. We go on dates, and we went to a luau, and I met all of her friends from around the island.”

“God,” he said, still staring incredulously at me. “You're serious about someone? For real? Or is this just another one of those things that you would say to the reporters?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. I laughed a little. “Actually, you don't know how nice it's been to be here and not have to deal with reporters. I think that might be part of why I'm starting to feel like myself again. I'm not constantly lying and fielding questions and whatever. It's been nice.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Jeff said, cocking his head to the side a little. This time, he was the one who came in for a hug. “Look, man, I'm sorry to be so suspicious about this all, but I still keep honestly suspecting that you've, I don't know, got a whole line of cameras in this hall who are about to jump out and tell me how badly you've just punked me or something.”

“Never,” I said.

Jeff laughed. “Bullshit,” he said. “Twenty-seven--year-old Christian totally would have pulled a stunt like that, just to prove that he could, to himself as much as the world.”

I grimaced. “I'd like to think I've come a little way since then,” I said.

“You probably have,” Jeff said. He ran a hand back through his hair, a gesture that was familiar enough since it was one of my own nervous, thoughtful gestures. We were more similar than we were different when it came down to it.