Page 3 of Merry Fake Bride

She gazes at me over the top of her glass, deftly changing the subject, so I go with it.

“Let’s just say that?—”

The buzzing from my phone increases, so I flip it over as a thrum of rapid-fire text messages come through followed by another call.

“Avoiding someone?” she asks as I set my phone back face down.

“The cause of my bad day. Let’s just say the burden of responsibility is weighing me down today.”

“What kind of responsibility?”

Ignoring my phone, I give her my full attention while I drink slowly.

“Have you ever had to live in the smothering presence of someone who isn’t even around anymore?”

She nods her head. “Sort of.”

“That’s my life, and I’m here to try and pretend that’s not the case. Only, it’s not working.”

She suddenly reaches across the bar and snatches up my phone, then slides it into a pocket of her handbag that rests on her lap. “Then you need to pretend better. You can start by telling me your name.”

“My name is?—”

“Ah!” She cuts me off with a smirk. “Pretend, remember? Be someone different.”

“Alright, my name is Steve.”

She immediately bursts out laughing. “You can choose any name that you want and you pick Steve?”

“What’s wrong with Steve?”

Her laughter is infectious, and I can’t keep the smile off my own face.

“It’s so basic and regular. Not very fantasy, is it?”

“Alright, what’s your name?”

Her eyes lock onto mine. “Adeline.”

Damn. That’s much better than mine. “Touche. What do you do for a living, Adeline?”

Her head tilts as she drains her glass and sets it down. “I’m a hot shot lawyer who spends her day stamping out all the rich assholes who think they can get away with everything by throwing money at a problem. But I’m a lawyer who can’t be bought, so I remain their problem until I fix them.”

There’s an edge to her voice suggesting that her reality is slipping into her fantasy because her smile fades briefly.

It returns a moment later.

“What about you? I have to warn you, if you’re a rich asshole, then I’m about to be a very big problem for you.”

She has no idea how close she is to the truth.

“I’m rich but not an asshole. I’m an exotic animal veterinarian.”

“Called Steve.” She can barely contain her laughter. “It’s so nice to meet you, Steve.”

“I feel like you’re mocking me,” I reply, unable to keep the smile on my face from growing. “I’m a respectable vet with a respectable name, thank you very much.”

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Her laughter dissolves into giggles while she tries to speak. “So, what vet emergency is blowing up your phone?”