My Super-Hot Fake Wedding Date Read online

I fanned myself again. I ordered a ton of shit from Amazon, and it wasn’t just because I was at work all the time. Bob, the UPS guy, was super hot. He was also unfailingly kind. He always had a smile for everyone, including old Mrs. Lindenmeyer and Bibi, whose hair was oily to the touch and who had perpetual eye boogers.

  Bob started heading my way. I leaned back against the wall, tracing the veins in his bulging forearms with my eyes.

  “Hey there.” He stopped in front of my door and smiled. He had thick dark hair, brown eyes, and God bless him, a deep dimple in his left cheek.

  I grinned at him. “Hey.”

  He kept smiling, but he tilted his head. “I think this is for you.”

  I ogled his handsome face. “Huh?”

  He started to look a little concerned. “The package. This package.”

  “Yep, that’s for me, all right!” I gave him what was most likely a very crazy-ass smile. “It’s my bridesmaid’s dress!”

  “Ah, you’re a bridesmaid? Sounds like fun.” His easy smile was back. He gently put the package down. “It’s sort of heavy for a dress. Do you want me to put it inside for you?”

  “Yeah! Sure! Thanks!” Why couldn’t I stop exclaiming at him? I didn’t know, but my hand shook a little when I turned the key.

  He waited for me to turn on the light in my entryway, then he carefully put the box inside. “Here you go. Have fun at your wedding.”

  “Um, it’s my sister’s wedding, actually.”

  The dimple was back. “Nice. Have a great time.” He gave me a friendly wave as he retreated.

  “Um, can you help me? You can help me!”

  Bob, the hot UPS guy, stopped and blinked. “Okay?”

  “I need a date.” The words were out of my mouth before I could think it through. “I need a date for my sister’s wedding.”

  “Okay.” His tone was gentle, as if he were talking to a dog who’d gotten off his leash and was about to bolt. Or bite. “How can I help?”

  “Are you married?”

  He looked confused. “No.”

  “Are you single?”

  His brow furrowed. “Yes.”

  “Will you come to Nantucket with me this weekend? Like, tomorrow? My sister’s getting married this weekend.”

  He blinked at me again. “I’m sorry?”

  “Don’t be sorry.” I reached for his hand and patted it. “Be my date. I’m totally freaking begging you.”

  Chapter Three

  BOB

  Right before I got out to deliver the package to Acorn Street, I got a message from my sister, Marta:

  Katie texted me again. She begged me to come this weekend. WTF?

  I texted back:

  So go. But I don’t want to hear about it.

  Katie was my ex. She was marrying an ex-friend of mine this weekend, Dave, a guy I used to work with. My sister was friends with Katie. We’d all been friends for years until Katie had run off with Dave and then… Well, that was that.

  So when the pretty woman who lived on Acorn Street asked me to come to her sister’s wedding in Nantucket this weekend, I hesitated. I had one of those “uh-oh” moments. I felt as if my mother were wagging her finger at me from heaven. Watch out! She’s a crazy one, this one! My Italian mother had loved her drama.

  Just like when she was alive, I ignored her.

  I nodded at the attractive blond woman. “Sure, I’ll come.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  “Great! Wow!” Her green eyes sparkled as though she couldn’t believe her good fortune. My mother’s voice whispered that perhaps she was high on something.

  “I’m Bob, by the way.” I took her hand in mine and shook it. She kept grinning, and I started to worry a little bit. My mother sometimes had a point about these things.

  “I’m Madison.”

  “Right, I know. Name on the label and all.”

  We smiled at each other in an extremely awkward silence.

  “So can I pick you up tomorrow morning? Around eight?” Madison whipped out her cell phone and started rapidly typing on it. “What’s your address and last name? Your number?”

  “Um.” Now she seemed more in control of herself. Her cell phone was a comfort zone. She texted at a pretty high rate of speed, like a lot of the women I used to work with at the firm. I watched her fingers flying across the screen and vaguely wondered how much caffeine she’d had today. “I’m Bob Palmieri. I live in Winter Hill, Bradley Street.” I gave her the street number and my cell phone. “I have tomorrow off, so that’s fine. But when will we come back? I have to work first thing Monday.”

  Madison glanced up from her phone. “We’ll be back Sunday morning. The wedding’s Saturday. So I just need you for a solid forty-eight. I’ll do something nice for you. I owe you, Bob. For real.”

  “You don’t have to do anything for me. Just don’t turn out to be a serial killer.”

  She laughed, but then her smile turned to a worried look, almost panicked. “You either. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “But can I ask you something?”

  She nodded, but she was biting her lip. She clearly hadn’t thought about the serial-killer angle.

  I considered her. Madison was tall, blond, and pretty. She lived on a sought-after street in Beacon Hill. I recognized her handbag, which was from some big-deal designer. That bag had cost a small fortune. I knew that because Katie had always wanted one.

  My assessment was that Madison J. Delaney—I delivered to her often, so I had her name memorized—had made it. She was successful, she was attractive, and she typed awfully fast. She shouldn’t need to ask her UPS guy, a complete stranger, to be her date at her sister’s wedding.

  “Why do you need a fake date?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “It’s kind of a long story.”

  “Why don’t you give me the short version?”

  Madison lifted her chin. “I told my mom I’d bring a date. I don’t have one. I ran out of time, but I never told her the truth, and I’m too chicken or stubborn—or both—to go home tomorrow and deal with my family alone. It’s my little sister’s wedding. I’m the old maid. I can’t deal with it, and I can’t face them, and I’d rather ask a total stranger to lie for me than face the consequences.”

  “Okay…”

  “I can pay you.” Her voice came out small. “A lot.”

  I held up my hands. “You don’t need to do that. I just wanted to make sure there wasn’t something else. Like you’re trying to make your crazy ex-boyfriend jealous or something like that. It’s nothing like that, right?”

  “No, of course not.” She shook her head. “I mean, Dean Smith is going to be there, and he was my high-school boyfriend, but then he totally married my cousin, and that made my mom nuts, so it’ll be helpful in that respect to have a date because my mom won’t feel so alienated, as she likes to call it, about my…” Madison continued, and my phone buzzed again. I quickly glanced at it to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.

  Katie: Really wish I could get your blessing!

  I shoved the phone in my pocket. Ah, the crazy ex-girlfriend strikes again. I wanted to throw my phone to the ground and stomp on it, but instead, I smiled at Madison. “Sounds good.”

  Madison stopped midsentence and blinked at me.

  I shrugged. “I get it. I have a family, I know how it can be. See you tomorrow?”

  “Sure?” She frowned as I started walking away. “I mean, sure!”

  “I have to get back to my route.” I smiled and waved. “Text me if you think I need anything special.”

  “O-okay.” Her frown deepened. It was probably a black-tie wedding, and there were a shit-ton of things I needed to bring. All of this looked like it was dawning on Madison. I was sure she would call to cancel. But in the interim, at least I had something to think about besides Katie, her stupid text, and her stupid wedding to my stupid ex-friend this stupid weekend.

  I imagined my mother looking
down at me from heaven, just shaking her head.

  I loved my job, but I was happy to be done with my shift. I changed, put in my earbuds, and blasted the music so loud I couldn’t think about anything. I went for a run then did chest presses and bicep curls in my apartment. Afterward, I took a shower, grabbed a beer, and checked my phone. I had eleven messages—one more from Katie, three from my sister, and nine from Madison.

  I took a large swallow of beer before I read them. I started with my sister because I was pretty sure she was the least crazy of the three.

  Marta: Um, bridezilla won’t stop texting me.

  Marta: I guess I’m going to go to the wedding if it means that much to her. As long as you’re okay with it.

  Marta: Was Katie always this crazy?

  Yes. Yes, she was. I just hadn’t realized how bad she really was until she broke up with me for Dave.

  Next, I read the texts from my panic-stricken fake date.

  Madison: Hi, um, this is Madison. From Acorn Street.

  Madison: So about the wedding… it’s black tie. What size are you? There’s totally a place on the island. NBD!

  Madison: So the tone of this weekend is BOCA RATON EARLY FALL CASUAL. (My parents and all their friends have houses there, and I’m not even kidding—I wish I was—but that’s what my mother put on the invite to the rehearsal dinner.) That means polo shirts and jackets and khakis. Like, expensive ones. No Vineyard Vines Outlet or J Crew Factory if you get what I’m saying. NBD! I’m on it! :)

  Madison: Did I mention my family has issues? They have a few issues. Nothing serious. I mean, it’s just a weekend, right?

  Madison: What size are you again? Shoe size? Neck size? Waist? Inseam? Jacket?

  Madison: Also? My parents have a heated outdoor pool and hot tub, and we might all go swimming. Pack swim trunks. I’ll get you some flip-flops!

  Madison: Do you have any food allergies?

  Madison: Can you handle your liquor? (Did I mention my family is Irish Catholic?)

  Madison: Are *you* by any chance Irish Catholic? With a last name like Palmieri, I’m guessing not…

  Hmm. I guessed that meant I was actually going to this thing. I sent her back all my measurements and answered her questions:

  Bob: No food allergies. I can probably drink you under the table, but I’m Italian, not Irish. Bob is short for “Roberto.” Sorry to disappoint!

  Madison: You’re a lifesaver, not a disappointment! So glad to hear you can drink your face off. I think. Okay, I’m going shopping now. See you tomorrow! :)

  She seemed nice enough. A little crazy, maybe. But not the way Katie was.

  I sighed and read the last text.

  Katie: Well? Are you going to text me back or not?

  She really had balls—I had to give her that. I sat back on my couch and looked out the window at the trees. It was so pretty out. I loved this time of year. Fuck it. I’m not just going to sit here.

  I called my buddy Ryan, and he met me at Deluxe, our neighborhood hangout.

  “You doing okay?” Ryan threw a dart and fist-pumped when it got closer to the target than mine.

  “I’m good.”

  Ryan gave me side-eye. “Dude, I know the wedding’s this weekend.”

  I shrugged. “I’m going to a different wedding with someone new. So I don’t care.”

  “Nice.” Ryan ordered us two more beers. “Who is she?”

  “Someone I just met at work. We’re going to Nantucket for the weekend.”

  His eyeballs almost popped out of his head. “Seriously? For your first date?”

  “Seriously. For our first date.” I threw another dart. “I mean, it’s not technically a date. It’s sort of… not a date.”

  “Huh?”

  “She didn’t really ask me out. I mean, she did, but it’s not really a date. I’m more of a buffer.”

  Ryan peered at my new beer, which I hadn’t touched. “Could you explain that more clearly, or are you impaired?”

  I sighed. “It’s her little sister’s wedding. She told her parents she was bringing a date, but she couldn’t find one in time. So she asked me this afternoon when I was delivering her package.”

  “You ever talk to this girl before?”

  “Not really.”

  “Is she hot?”

  I avoided his gaze. “Yes.”

  “Is she crazy?”

  I snorted. “What do you think?”

  “I think of course she’s crazy. I mean, she sounds crazy.” Ryan shrugged. “At least a little.”

  “Maybe she is. But not bad like… You know.” She who would not be named.

  “I am all for you going to Nantucket and having fun, especially this weekend.” Ryan frowned.

  “But?”

  “But… Just be careful,” Ryan said. “It sounds like kind of a wild situation. So maybe you should think of it as a distraction, nothing serious.”

  “Yeah, of course.” I shifted uncomfortably. I needed a distraction for sure. The thing was, I wanted a girlfriend. “But maybe this’ll turn into something. Who knows, right?”

  “I want you to concentrate on the fun angle.” Ryan arched an eyebrow. “There’s nothing wrong with fun.”

  “Yeah.” I nodded, anxious to change the subject. “Are you going to Dave and Katie’s wedding?”

  “Fuck no! Dave’s dead to me. You know that. I lost him in the friend divorce, and good riddance. I don’t like dudes who steal girlfriends.” Ryan jerked his chin at me. “You know I think you’re better off, though. Katie was a nightmare. Maybe this weekend will be good for you.”

  “I don’t know. The wedding’s super fancy. I’m pretty sure her family’s loaded. She’s renting me a tux.”

  “Does she know about you?” He meant the fact that my own family was wealthy and that I had a whopping trust fund, which I pretended didn’t exist, and that I used to work at a super-intense brokerage firm and had made mid-six figures a year before I quit.

  I shook my head. “Nah. She just thinks I’ll make good arm candy.”

  Ryan grinned. “I hope it’s awesome.”

  “You never know.” I threw another dart and missed the target by a mile. “It’ll be better than sitting around here all weekend in any event.”

  He hit the bull’s-eye. “Amen to that.”

  Later, when I was in bed, my mind wandered. Katie and Dave were getting married this weekend. It was so crazy. The three of us had been friends throughout our twenties. Katie and I had been on double dates with Dave and each of his girlfriends. I’d always assumed he would be one of my groomsmen. But when I quit my job and told Katie that I wanted to change the direction of my life, she had jumped ship faster than a rat on the Titanic.

  She’d headed right to Dave, the nearest life raft. He’d bought her one of those designer bags, and they were engaged within six months.

  I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head. This was all such old news. I literally never wanted to think about it again. I tossed and turned. Then I got yet another text from Katie.

  Katie: I need to hear from you. I just need you to forgive me. Can you do that?

  Grr. My ex was the ultimate puppet master. Until the bitter end, she wanted to know that she could get me to do what she wanted. I almost texted back that she could go to hell, but that would just create drama. And Katie loved her drama. That was the one thing she’d had in common with my mother.

  Bob: Of course I forgive you! Congratulations!

  It was the first time I’d texted her back in a year.

  My phone pinged again. “Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

  Madison: Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow! It’s totally crazy that we’re doing this, but I’m so glad you said yes. :) We’re going to have fun!

  I stared at the ceiling. Ryan was right—fun would be good. I could handle some fun.

  But I still fell asleep wondering what on earth I’d signed up for.

  Chapter Four

  MADISON

  I c
alled Josie on my way to Winter Hill. “Guess what?”

  “You got abducted by aliens and don’t have to go to the wedding? And you’re coming for me, so I don’t have to go either?”

  I giggled. “No, silly! I found a date! And he’s super hot!”

  “Really?” Josie squealed. “Who is it?”

  “My UPS guy, Bob. Do you remember Jake Ryan from Sixteen Candles?” It was my turn to squeal. “That’s who he looks like—but with a broader chest!”

  Dead silence filled the line.

  “Are you there?”

  “Um… you’re bringing your UPS guy to the wedding?”

  “Yeah.” A defensive tone crept into my voice. “Not only is he Jake Ryan gorgeous, he’s nice. Like, really nice. I’m sure my family will love him.”

  “Yeah… Good!” But Josie didn’t sound convinced.

  I turned onto Massachusetts Avenue and sat in traffic. “Go on, say it. It’s nothing I haven’t thought of.”

  “Aren’t they going to be all over you because he doesn’t have a pedigree?”

  “Probably.” I frowned out at the Charles River as I inched across the bridge. “I haven’t decided how much I’m going to tell them yet. I might just say he’s in the import-export business.”

  “Maddy, c’mon. They’re going to be Googling him before he can put his bags down.”

  “I don’t care. I’ll ask him to scrub his social media if I have to. Or I’ll fake-name him.”

  She giggled. “I love that you’re going for this. I’m a little worried about how it’s all going to play out, but if anyone can make this work, it’s you.”

  My chest puffed at the compliment. “Aw, thanks. He probably thinks I’m crazy, but whatever. He said yes. He might be the crazy one!”

  “Speaking of that, though… Do you feel safe with him?”