Fake Fiancée for Dad’s Best Friend by Gena Snow

Chapter 22

Vivian

 

 

 

 

My eyes flutter open, and I blink as I take in my surroundings. Right. I’m at Alex’s house. I turn abruptly to the spot next to me, hoping he’s there. But it’s empty. Did he come home last night? More details pop into my head, including the good ones and bad ones: The sumptuous dinner, the romantic moment at the park, and then, the unexpected visitor.

Did Alex spend the night with Trisha? The thought distresses me, and I close my eyes, wanting to return to sleep and oblivion. But a whiff of coffee enters my nostril, and I become aware of distant noises somewhere in the house and then the smell of bacon. Really? Does Alex have a cook that works on Sundays?

Remembering Karen and Mike will be arriving at the condo soon, I get up, comb my hair in the bathroom and go to the kitchen.

Alex is standing by the stove, cooking breakfast. The sight surprises me even though I see my dad cook all the time. I stand at the door frame to drink in the sight of him in an apron and can’t help by smile. He looks good no matter what.

He’s busy flipping eggs with a spatula and hasn’t noticed me yet.

“Good morning, Alex.” I go to him and hug him from behind.

He frees a hand to pat my arm. “Morning, sweetheart. Help yourself with coffee and toast.”

I do as he suggests, pouring myself a cup of coffee. Assuming he hasn’t eaten yet, I then put two pieces of toast into the oven.

While I’m sipping coffee, Alex turns off the burner and then lifts the bacon and eggs onto two plates.

“Rosie told me you helped her in the kitchen when you were little,” I say to him before touching the food. “I assume you’re a good cook?”

He blinks for a second and laughs. “I was just messing around. No, I’m not good at it.”

“They look fine to me,” I say, reaching for the eggs. The yoke breaks and oozes out and I quickly shove it into my mouth.

Alex chuckles. “It’s about all I can do.”

“Good enough for me!” I say after swallowing down the eggs.

And then we both fall silent and focus on chewing our breakfast. I wait for him to talk about last night, but he doesn’t. He might be feeling as awkward as I do.

Finally, I can’t hold my curiosity any longer. “So, err, what was Trisha’s visit about?”

Alex quickly swallows down what’s in his mouth and says, “Oh, about that, yeah. We discussed some business matter.”

I know he isn’t telling me everything, and I feel hurt. “Did you sleep with her?”

He’s drinking coffee, and he chokes hearing my question. “No! why would you think that? I came home last night, Vivian, shortly after ten. I slept in the guestroom.”

“Oh,” I say, my cheeks burning. I’m glad he didn’t spend the night with Trisha, but the fact he used the guestroom doesn’t please me much.

Alex seems to hear my thoughts because he pauses from eating and gazes at me with his intense eyes. “I should just tell you everything,” he says with a sigh.

And then he goes on and lets me know about Trisha’s blackmail. 

“That’s outrageous!” I say indignantly. “I hope you haven’t promised her anything.”

“I haven’t. But I might have to make some compromises,” he says. “I don’t want your dad to find out the truth from her. It’d be a disaster.”

He’s right. But picturing Trisha making her demands just makes my blood boil. What an evil woman. Hasn’t Alex done enough for her?  “I’ll tell my dad,” I say firmly. “I’ll let him know I made you do it.”

“Absolutely not.” Alex shakes his head. “I’m responsible, too. I’ll tell him. I just need to wait for a few days, as soon as my parents leave. And then I’ll tell your dad everything is over and we’ve canceled the engagement. That way, he might not feel as bad.”

I consider. “Sure. But we should do it together.”

“Okay.” He pats my shoulder.

I finish my breakfast in silence, with a lump in my throat. Somehow, I don’t want the fake engagement to be over yet.

“When are they going to be here?” I ask Alex.

“Soon,” Alex says. “Mark texted me ten minutes ago saying he got them already.”

“Then I’d better hurry,” I say and start doing the dishes.

 

I’ve barely put on a dress when the doorbell chimes. Soon I hear Karen and Mike’s voices and rush to the living room. “Hi, Keren and Mike!” I get to the foyer the moment Alex closes the door.

“Hi, Vivian!” They smile and hug me.

Alex helps his dad carry the luggage into the room they’ll stay, leaving Karen and me in the living room.

She looks as good as when I last saw her. Her hair is recently trimmed and dyed, and she looks sharp in her green floral shirt over white cotton pants.

But there’s something different about her. Her smile isn’t as bright, and she seems a bit sad, or maybe she’s tired from lack of sleep last night.

“Would you like some coffee?” I ask her.

“No, I’m fine, honey,” she says. “I could use some water, though.”

I go into the kitchen and bring her a glass of water.

“How’s everything, Vivian?” she asks after taking a sip. “Haven’t changed your mind about going to Paris?”

I blink at the unexpected question. Does she have a problem with that? What am I supposed to say?

“Not…yet,” I say with a chuckle in order not to sound rude.  “I’ve already registered for classes.”

“I see,” she nods with a smile. Her expression is hard to read.

“Are you sure you want to leave Alex alone here for a year? He’s older than you but still very attractive.”

My mouth opens, but all I do is chuckle. What is she trying to get at? “I…err,” I stammer with burning cheeks. “I trust him.” Jeez. Where does that come from? I’m the biggest and the worst liar on earth. Just last night, I was tortured by jealousy over Trisha.

Karen is going to speak again when Alex and Mike return to the living room. I change the topic right away by asking Mike whether I could bring him a drink.

“Sure, I’d like a scotch if you’ve got any,” he says.

I’m a bit taken aback because it seems to be too early in the day. Karen obviously agrees with me. “He’s only kidding,” she says to me. “Just give him an orange juice, if you have any. If not, water will do.”

“I was not!” Mike says, slightly protesting as he follows me into the kitchen.

As I’m wondering what to do, Alex says to his dad, “We’re going out for lunch soon, Dad. And you can order drinks then.”

“Sure,” Mike says with a shrug.

I pour him a glass of juice, puzzling over Mike’s strange behavior. He wasn’t that fond of alcohol when I visited them a month ago.