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JEANNIE

Okay, if I win the lottery, I’m officially buying one of these cars , Jeannie thought solemnly of the luxury vehicle. It had been three years since she’d driven anything, but this car made it feel like a breeze. It would pull her back in the lane, if she didn’t brake fast enough, it made the adjustments for her, and there was obviously a massage setting on the seat because her lower back was getting rubbed by rollers under the leather.

As she pulled into the parking lot for Harry’s, she parked as far away from the building and other cars as possible. She was afraid to damage the car or look like a fool in front of the guy who’d saved her from Jim’s pawing. Not to mention, she was intimidated because just looking at him, she saw anger and frustration, like some avenging angel disappointed he was having to deal with such a situation beneath him – and that was not a good feeling deep in her soul.

“Come on,” he said simply.

“I think I should go…” she replied, feeling extremely nervous and wary. Sure, his mother had covered for him, but wasn’t that what a parent should do? Maybe not her parents, but most parents would or should protect their child and… “Who is Feller?” she blurted out at his back as he was getting out of the car.

He turned, looking at her over his shoulder, and hesitated.

“How do you know about that?” he asked quietly and then sighed. “My mom?”

“Yes.”

“Feller… I’ll tell you over lunch.”

“Tell me now because I don’t know if I’m going in there or not,” Jeannie said, remaining in the driver’s seat and unsure how far she could push the situation. She didn’t know this man and had only seen one side to him. she needed more info before she could make a decision to run – or to trust him as he’d requested.

He sighed, turning slightly in his seat, and looked back at her.

“Feller was a dog,” he said quietly watching her. “My dog, a yellow mutt I found when I was twelve years old. He was just a puppy and had gotten entangled in some wire,” he paused, swallowing, and then smiled to himself almost like he was lost in the memory. “I was so scared to leave him, so upset, so I sat there and untangled that wire from his legs… and I don’t know how long it took, but I carried him home.”

He closed his eyes, resting it against the headrest as she stared at his profile, listening.

“I cried and held that whimpering puppy for hours. We took him to the vet, and Feller needed to have its leg amputated because of the extensive damage, and they asked us to put him down.”

“Oh no…” she breathed, feeling her eyes sting once more.

“I still couldn’t do it,” he admitted. “I gave Mom my allowance, begged her to help the dog, and promised to pay her back – but that was my dog, and he needed me.”

He slid her a sheepish smile.

“Feller is almost fourteen now and living with my parents. I have a three-legged mutt that I adore, and named him ‘Feller’ after seeing ‘Old Yeller’ on television. He’s completely spoiled, my big baby boy, and sleeps at the foot of my sister’s bed now. My schedule is a mess, and I can’t stand to leave Feller home alone because he might need something. Is that what you wanted to know? Now, will you come inside and eat so we can talk?”

She nodded, stunned.

He was… nice. Compassionate. Deep down, something in him would protect those less fortunate who were struggling, and it made her feel so much better knowing this. Not everyone would have done the same, and she imagined that if the dog was scared at the time, he was probably yelping, biting, and struggling, yet he managed to free him and save him.

“Good,” he replied simply, getting out of the car once more, and Jeannie followed him. She walked up to the door of the restaurant, ducking slightly as he held open the door for her, and then dipped back to the side to allow him to go first – only to feel his hand at the small of her back. “Come on…”

She swallowed, feeling so awkward at this kindness he seemed to be showing her. No one was like that to a stranger. As he followed the hostess, Matthieu slid into a booth opposite Jeannie and plucked two menus from the holder, handing her one.

“Soooo?” Matthieu began. “The burgers are good?”

“Divine.”

“I could go for that,” he chuckled and then looked at her. “Are you from here? Tell me about yourself… any pet stories you want to share with me?”

She let out a nervous laugh and looked away before turning her eyes back to him shyly. “No, no pets. I can’t have them in my apartment. Well, I could, but then there’s the whole pet deposit and paying for any repairs, plus I’m not home much, and they deserve a yard, you know?”

“I do know, which is why Feller is in Minnesota with Katie.”

A moment later, the waitress arrived, and Jeannie couldn’t help feel like gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe the way the woman fawned and giggled at Matthieu as he ordered his meal.

Was this what womankind was reduced to – simpering ?

“I’m gonna die an old maid,” she muttered in disgust as the waitress was leaning over the table to get their menus – which were placed at the end of the table for the next patron to use- and gave Matthieu a good view of the front of her shirt.

Except he wasn’t looking.

His blue eyes met hers, and there was a slight frown line between his eyebrows as if he were trying to figure her out. Her eyes widened as she realized he’d heard her, and her face flushed with embarrassment, tucking her hair behind her ear and looking anywhere but at him as the waitress finished gushing happily.

“… You just let me know if you need anything, handsome.”

“Yup,” he said evasively, not bothering to reply more than that… but the moment she was gone, he leaned forward slightly, putting both hands on the table and folding his fingers together. “What were you saying, Jeannie?”

Eh?

“Oh, um, you know… no pets, no family. I’ve got a small apartment that is going to be going empty pretty soon because I’m not staying there after today’s events.”

“You shouldn’t,” he agreed simply.

“I’m not,” she retorted, almost in disbelief as she stared at him, again taken aback. “I cannot believe all of that happened – and the way you stopped him. My gosh, you moved so quickly, like you were everywhere at once, and why are you smiling?”

“I wish you’d tell my boss that,” he chuckled. “I got in trouble today for not doing that.”

“Really? Oh no, that was incredible to see. I mean, you practically covered the man like a turtle shell, or a blanket, or… or… a…” she blanked, unable to think of a word to explain how he was everywhere, blocking everything, at once.

“A goalie?” he smiled softly.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t watch sports, so I wouldn’t know, but I guess if you were the person in front of the goal, the net, the yellow fork-looking thing on the field, then may… okay, now you are laughing again.”

Sure enough, Matthieu’s easy smile was now a full-on grin, and he was chortling back laughter, reaching for a napkin, and wiping his eyes as he snorted painfully… laughing at her.

“What?”

“The yellow fork ?” he repeated, laughing harder. “Wrong sport.”

“You play sports?”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. I’m a goalie.”

“Okay?”

“A hockey goalie?”

“Yay for you? Do you do ninja moves like that… on the goal?” – and Matthieu threw back his head laughing wildly.

It was tempting to get up and leave him sitting there. She still had his car keys and was about to stand when he finally took a deep breath, smiled at her, and sighed heavily. It was like his whole being sighed and that was probably the only thing that stopped her.

“I needed that laugh – thank you,” he admitted, smiling. “I’ve had a heckuva day and could use a bit of relief.”

“Me too,” she muttered. “I’ll let you know when I find mine.”

“What do you think about Quebec?” he said quietly, watching her with that infernal half-smile, waiting.

“It’s on the other side of the continent,” she shrugged.

“Well, yes. But have you ever wanted to see it?”

“I guess so. Maybe? I’ve got a lot of places I’d love to see eventually…”

“Would you want to see it… with me?”

“Come again?” she blurted out and leaned forward. “Can you repeat that once more because I could have sworn that you said something about going to Quebec… with you ?”

“I did,” he smirked, leaning forward, mimicking her posture and holding her gaze. “I’m taking a new position with a new hockey team – and I need someone to come with me, be at my side, and pretend to be my wife.”

Jeannie lurched to her feet slightly, still contained awkwardly within the booth, and looked over the back to see if someone was sitting there with a microphone recording this. She hung her head out the side, again looking around, and then nearly dove under the table before looking at Matthieu.

“You’re wearing a wire, aren’t you?”

“A…a wire?”

“A recording device,” she clarified, squinting her eyes skeptically at him. “You are recording me. You know you have to disclose that to someone prior to using it, and you do not have my permission to use my voice recording,” she finished loudly.

“I’m not recording you,” he whispered, looking confused. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you just asked me to move across the country with you, pretending to be your wife.”

“Yes,” he said simply, watching her. “Do you want the position?”

“Are you interviewing me?”

“No. I’m asking if you want to be my sort-of wife.”

“Why not your real one?”

“Well, I kinda like being single, and I don’t want to commit myself to a stranger – no offense,” he said quickly, holding up an apologetic hand. “I’m just being truthful. We don’t know each other.”

“No, we don’t – and I understand. I don’t want to be trapped with someone that I barely know because what if you turn out to be some sort of creep like that other guy… no offense,” she replied just as candidly.

“None taken,” he said easily, watching her. “I get it – we don’t know each other – but you need a place to stay, and I need a wife to land this job. If we have to make it real on paper, I’ll pay for any annulment or divorce that is needed in the future.”

“This is officially the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had…”

“I think it’s a winner for both of us,” he replied openly, nodding. “I promise I don’t propose to strangers. This is a first for me, too.”

They both sat there, staring at each other and obviously thinking. There had to be some sort of trick to this, some sort of catch. It couldn’t be just that simple, that easy, to say ‘ yeah, let’s pretend ’ and then everything would be great. No, there had to be stipulations… didn’t there?

“In Quebec?”

“Yes.”

“And we tell people we’re married…”

“Yes.”

“But we’re not?” she shot back.

“No.”

“Do we live together in Quebec?” she asked warily, and he seemed to pause before nodding.

“We could get a two- or three-bedroom house. My agent is sending me a few listings, and you can pick the place. I’ll buy it, put it in my name, and if things go downhill – then I’ll let you have it or put you up in another place that is convenient for any functions that you might be required to attend.”

“So I would go to these functions… and pretend to be married to you?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s it?”

“I think so.”

“What’s in it for me?” she asked baldly and hesitated. “Sorry, I don’t mean it badly but…”

“No. It’s okay. I want us to be able to talk and negotiate, and things are going to come up that we need to discuss. You can mention anything to me, and we have to be able to discuss it like adults.”

“I want to be able to work,” she began, and he nodded. “I don’t speak much French. I took it in high school but…”

“I can get you a tutor.”

“And I’ll need a means to get around town,” she continued, not wanting to be trapped or stuck. Her parents had taken away her car keys, keeping her at the house for two weeks until she found them. No, being trapped where you don’t want to be is tough for everyone involved and results in a lot of hurtful things being said during emotional moments that were best avoided. “Maybe a car lease for a year or…”

“You can have the Bentley, or we’ll get you something there. I don’t want you to be trapped at the house, and you should be free to explore. If we’re making a home there, I want us to try to make every effort to be friends, to see our new city, and I don’t want to ever be putting you in a position where you resent helping me.”

“I can’t drive the Bentley to Quebec,” she gaped in shock, nearly curling at the realization that he understood without her having to explain her feelings. “That’s almost three thousand miles and…”

“It was getting old anyhow,” he shrugged. “How about we look for two new cars when we get there.”

“You’re serious about this.”

“If I don’t have a wife with me – then I lose the job,” he admitted. “They might force me to produce a marriage license, which sounds crazy, so I doubt that’s legal, but if they do, then we’ll have to get one - quickly .”

Jeannie nodded in understanding. The idea of being tied to a stranger was alarming, and she understood his hesitance with it, too. She didn’t have the money or a car to move quickly or easily, so this would be an easy way to start out in a new part of the world without all the anxiety and headaches that came with moving here.

Goodness, those first few months of getting settled here were terrible. She slept on the floor for weeks until she could afford to buy a bed, sat on milkcrates, used boxes to store stuff – and even now, her television was on top of a nightstand she found near a dumpster one day after cleaning it up.

“So we would live together,” she said slowly, her voice barely above a murmur, “on opposite sides of the house, each have our own cars, each live our own lives, but pretend to be married for events in public.” Her pulse thrummed in her throat as she met his gaze. “Have I summed that up correctly?”

Matthieu didn’t waver. “Yes.”

She swallowed, her tongue feeling thick, her mind racing to catch up with the absurdity of what she was about to agree to.

“I see.”

Before the tension could build any further, the waitress arrived, her presence as unwelcome as the sudden scent of cheap vanilla perfume that clung to the air. With a bright, saccharine smile, she placed their food on the table, though it was painfully obvious that Matthieu was her sole focus.

“Here you are, sugar…” she all but purred, leaning in far too closely, her red-tipped nails grazing the table as she practically draped herself over him.

Jeannie watched the exchange in silence, her stomach twisting, but she didn’t let it show. She had seen this before from others—beautiful, confident women who saw her as insignificant, invisible. This one, with her flawless makeup and curves that filled out her uniform in all the right places, didn’t even acknowledge her existence.

Matthieu, to his credit, remained composed. “Thanks,” he said coolly, lifting his gaze to Jeannie with a knowing look. “I think it would work great for us.”

The waitress arched a brow, tilting her head flirtatiously. “I don’t know what you two are discussing,” she mused, her voice dipped in honey, “but if your little nerdy girl isn’t into it… I sure am.”

Jeannie felt the words like a slap, but she didn’t flinch. She just clenched her hands beneath the table, pressing her nails into her palms. Of course. Of course, she wasn’t seen as competition. She was just the plain girl in jeans and a T-shirt, her face bare of makeup, her body unremarkable, her presence forgettable.

Matthieu turned slightly to glare at the waitress, but spoke to Jeannie.

“ Honey , did you want ketchup for your onion rings?”

Check one for the ‘nerdy girl’ – and Jeannie almost fist-pumped the air in that moment at the shocked look on the waitress’ face.

“Thanks for remembering, Baby ,” Jeannie said sweetly – as if she was giving him her answer to the whole Quebec/Fake Marriage thing… and met his gaze.

Matthieu’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes, something knowing, something amused.

He gave a single nod.

She returned it.

The waitress blinked, visibly thrown off, her lips parting as if to protest. But Matthieu, now utterly disinterested in her presence, turned back with an air of finality.

“Ma’am,” he said, his voice cool, firm. “Can you get my wife some ketchup, please? And a few napkins. Thanks.”

And just like that, he dismissed her.

The shocked look on the woman’s face as she looked at Jeannie was telling, but Matthieu simply picked up his burger, took a healthy bite, and nodded, smirking at Jeannie as he chewed. “Eat up, honey … it’s good. You were right about this place.”

As they ate, he told her about what the coach said to him earlier in the day, bringing about his request to ‘marry’ him. Yes, it was all for pretend, but so either of them was free to live their lives so long as they kept up the pretense.

“I don’t want to ever tread on your toes for helping me,” he said quietly, whispering across the table to her. “If you need something, I’ll have you on the account so you have access to get things you want or need for the house. It’ll be the ‘golden rule’ – you take care of me, and I will take care of you.”

“Shouldn’t everyone act like that?”

“She sure wouldn’t,” he gulped, looking terrified of the waitress in the distance who was obviously gossiping with someone else and kept looking in their direction. “And head’s up – I’m not exactly a stranger in town because I’m on television. If someone asks you from this moment on, we got married.”

“Okay – when?”

“What do you mean?”

“What’s our anniversary date? What day did we get married?”

“Oh, uh, today ?” he flubbed, obviously taken aback.

“Sounds good to me,” she shrugged and then gave him a side-eye. “Are you sure there aren’t any other ‘catches’ to this job?”

“Positive,” he nodded. “My agent is sending over the stuff tonight and…” he paused, looking at her. “I just got a wild idea.”

“Oh?”

“You might not be safe at your place, and I’ve got a guest room for when my family visits. Why don’t you come stay at my place, and we’ll get your stuff today, so when this all goes down – it’s just one place to pack up, and you never have to worry about running into that slimeball again.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, I meant it. You have my back, and I will protect yours,” he said softly, his eyes gentle. “You think I want to risk losing my fake wife or having her run away at the last minute? No, let’s keep you close and show you how nice it is to be treated well by someone. I’ll never grab you or maul you like he did today.”

And a part of her withered slightly at the words he tossed out there, meaning to be kind. He was trying to reassure her, and he did – but it was also hard to deal with because he was handsome, and she understood the waitress’ interest.

“I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” he said simply, nodding. “Maybe when we get to my condo, we’ll have the house listings there to look at together. This is gonna be fun. A new team, a new place, a new city. It will be terrific.”

“Yup,” she smiled wanly. You forgot to mention a new ‘wife’ and a new ‘living arrangement’…