My Super-Hot Fake Wedding Date Page 4

  “Oh, crap. I’m sorry!” But really, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Red flag, Maddy!

  “I’m over it.” But he didn’t sound over it. “So enough about me. What about you? Why no boyfriend?”

  I shook my head. “I work a lot.”

  “C’mon.”

  “No, really. There’s not a lot of time to socialize, and honestly, I haven’t met anyone worth my time.”

  “Ouch.”

  I laughed. “Present company excluded, of course.”

  “Of course.” Bob put his hands together, looking thoughtful. “We should do a quick stat check. It’s good that we’re saying we’ve only been dating for a month because we wouldn’t know each other that well, but let’s start with the basics. I’m Roberto Olivier Palmieri from the South Shore Palmieris. I have an older sister, Marta, and my mother’s deceased. My father lives in Boca—the other Boca, Boca Grande on the West Coast. I’m thirty, never married, nonsmoker, lapsed Catholic. I like whiskey and IPA. I lived in Boston my whole life. I went to Boston College.”

  My jaw dropped. “Did you make all that up just now?”

  “No, ha. It’s all true.”

  “You went to BC?” I knew I sounded shocked. Bob the UPS guy went to the same college as my super-snobby father.

  “Yeah.” He looked a little uncomfortable. “I know the delivery business isn’t what you’d expect from a BC grad, but I wasn’t cut out for a desk job.”

  “You had a desk job?” I don’t know why I was so surprised. It wasn’t as if I thought he’d been born wearing a brown uniform.

  Bob smiled, but it looked a little forced. “Yup. It wasn’t for me.”

  “Huh.”

  He chuckled. “You sound truly stunned.”

  “I guess I am.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I hadn’t thought about your backstory. I guess I assumed you’d always been a happy outdoor person.”

  He looked confused. “I’m sorry?”

  “Someone who works outside and likes hiking. Do you like hiking, Bob?”

  “Sure.” He still looked confused.

  “Just ignore me. Sometimes I make assumptions. I don’t have enough time to get to know a lot of people, you know?”

  He tilted his chin. “No, I don’t know. What do you mean?”

  “I’m just kind of in my head a lot. Never mind.” I waved him off. I had zero desire to tell Bob about my inferior people skills and how I vastly preferred staring at my computer to socializing. “My dad went to Boston College. He’s going to love you.”

  “He probably wouldn’t love me if he knew my dark secrets.”

  I leaned forward. “What dark secrets?”

  Bob looked at me like I might be crazy. “That I work for UPS. And that I’m your fake date.”

  “Right, that, ha ha.”

  “Okay, Maddy. Your turn. Give me the rundown, including how it is you find yourself with no time to get to know people, which forces you to snap judgments or no consideration whatsoever of their backstory.”

  I frowned at him, wondering if he was one of those people who was so nice that he got a little sanctimonious.

  “I’m not judging.” He smiled, using his dimple as a weapon against me. “Just waiting.”

  I sighed. “I’m Madison Anne Delaney from the Wellesley, Nantucket, and Boca Raton Delaneys. I have a younger sister, Sienna. I’m thirty-one, never married, nonsmoker, also a lapsed Catholic, and I also like whiskey, but wine and Prosecco are my favorites. I’ve lived in Boston my whole life, too. I went to Wellesley College and then Harvard for my MBA. My business was named one of the fastest-growing cloud services companies by Wired. For some reason, all of this seems to drive my mother absolutely batshit crazy.”

  Bob nodded. “Go on.”

  I frowned at him. “I don’t have time to get to know people because I work a hundred hours a week, and also, if I’m being honest, most of the men I meet underwhelm me. I have a best friend. I have a successful company. I don’t need to be with a guy just because ‘that’s what you do.’” I made air quotes. “My mother’s beside herself that I’m single, but you know what? Not everybody gets married.”

  “So you don’t ever want to get married?”

  I lifted my chin. “I didn’t say that. I just said I’m focused on my career. But honestly? Marriage isn’t all that important to me. Why does it seem like it’s all that’s important to everybody else?”

  Chapter Seven

  BOB

  Chip stopped downtown, ran his errands, and hustled back to the car. We didn’t have much time left, so Madison and I kept talking.

  “Not everybody has to get married,” I told her. But I felt as if she were waving a big red flag at me. I wanted to get married. I also wanted kids. I wanted a family sooner rather than later. Maybe that made me basic or something.

  I glanced at the woman sitting next to me. She was very, very pretty, too pretty to be spending the weekend with under these circumstances. Ugh. Why did I yes to this? I vowed to keep my feet on the ground—not too much whiskey, not too many IPAs, and not too much slow dancing. I was a sucker for slow dancing, but not this weekend. No way, no how. I’d learned my lesson about playing with fire. I just got burned. I’d put five years into my relationship with Katie, even though she’d flown plenty of flags in my direction.

  I’d learned the hard way.

  The next time I dated someone, she was going to be a nice girl, someone sincere, one who didn’t care about how much money I had in the bank, one who loved me for who I was, one who wanted to settle down and have kids. With me. Not with my friend, not with my bank account, and not on some day far off in the future.

  Chip turned off the main road into an upscale residential neighborhood. “We’re almost to the house.”

  Madison bit her lip.

  I patted her hand. “Don’t be nervous.” We might not be right for each other, but I could still be nice?

  She shook her head. “You have my standing apology, okay? For however terrible my parents are.”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.” My own father was a piece of work, but he was one of a kind. How bad could the Delaneys be?

  Maddy pushed the button, and the privacy screen rolled down. “Hey, Chip. Did you get everything you needed?”

  He eyed her in the rearview mirror. “I hope so. Your mother’s pretty…enthusiastic…about the wedding. So if I don’t have what she wants, I’m sure she’ll let me know.”

  Maddy shook her head. “You’re a saint. I don’t know how you’ve worked for them for so long.”

  He laughed, but it sounded perfunctory. “They’ve taken very good care of me. You know that.” He maneuvered the large SUV down a long driveway. All I could see were woods, but when the trees cleared, I sucked in a deep breath.

  “Here we are.” Madison didn’t sound excited about it.

  “Whoa.” She’d called it an estate. It was an estate on steroids. Or a small, ultra-elite neighborhood on one massive lot.

  A green lawn fit for a golf course spread out on either side of the drive. I could see the Atlantic from here. Waves crashed toward the shore of what must have been a private beach. The Delaney mansion sprawled at the end of the drive, beckoning in its pitch-perfect level of opulence. The main house was enormous, replete with a widow’s walk and several connected wings. It looked as if it were five houses in one. Covered in slate-gray shingles with white shutters, it embodied the perfect Nantucket style.

  I smiled encouragingly at Madison. “Looks like we’ll have plenty of room to spread out—or hide if we need to.”

  “You’d think so, huh?” She sounded very doom and gloom, which was really something considering the beautiful home in front of us.

  I’d thought my parents had money. They owned a chain of car dealerships on the South Shore. We’d lived in a nice house, always had money for vacations, and my parents had paid cash for our college tuitions. My parents belonged to a country club. I had a trust fund. But clearly, the Palm
ieris were not in the same stratosphere as the Delaneys. I’d never seen a house like the Delaneys’ except in the movies. We had money; they had an empire.

  Plus, my family was proudly tacky. My father wore chubby gold rings, and we had a decorative fountain with multicolored lights in our front yard. I’d never understood the knack wealthy people like the Delaneys had for being understated. It was as if they showed their insanely good breeding by restraining themselves from having pet tigers stationed nearby and marble columns fake-supporting the edifice of their mansion. The absence of showing off put me on notice: these people were insanely, monochromatically rich.

  “What does your family do?”

  Maddy frowned. “My mother’s family had money. They invested in railroads.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Apparently it worked out for them.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess so.”

  She didn’t say anything else, but she didn’t have to. The air in the car changed. Both Madison and Chip sat up straighter and started yoga breathing. I could feel the tension rolling off of them in waves. Maybe her parents really were that bad.

  Chip pulled around the circular drive, and a butler—wearing a tuxedo, no less—came down the steps to meet us.

  “You have a butler?”

  Madison nodded. “We usually have a reduced staff in the off-season, but my parents have everyone working this week. That’s Pryce. He’s sort of a douche, just so you know.”

  I laughed. “Perfect.”

  She turned back toward me, an apologetic expression on her face. “I told you I’d do something nice for you, remember? It won’t be so bad—it’s just a weekend.” But she didn’t look as though she meant it.

  “Hey.” I smiled. “Don’t worry about me. Game on.” Her parents could be lamb-sacrificing Satanists, and the butler could be the biggest D-word that ever lived, but it would still be better than sitting at home all weekend. I didn’t want to think about Katie and Dave getting married and all of our mutual friends—except for the ever-loyal Ryan—blowing bubbles at them or some such bullshit as they glowed in their happiness.

  Maddy took a deep breath as Pryce opened the door. “Ms. Delaney.” He held out his hand for her.

  “Hello, Pryce.” She nodded toward me as I climbed down from the SUV after her. “This is my boyfriend, Bob.”

  Pryce was built like a wrestler, short and compact. His muscles strained beneath his tuxedo. His square face was punctuated with a snub nose and flared nostrils that made him appear as if he were perpetually sniffing the air around him. His gray hair was slicked back from his lined face.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Boyfriend? How charming.”

  I raised my eyebrows back at him. “Thanks.” But I didn’t mean it. Based on the way he was looking at me, as if I were something he might find on the bottom of his highly polished shoe, Madison was correct. Pryce was sort of a douche.

  He gave me a tight smile. “Right this way.”

  I gave him a tight smile back because I had no idea what the dude’s problem was.

  Madison leaned toward me as we followed him inside. “Pryce is sort of like my mother’s personal watchdog. There was a lot of guilty-until-proven-innocent in my house growing up, courtesy of Pryce and his tattling.” She got closer and whispered, “He doesn’t like anyone but my mom. That’s what she values about him.”

  “I see.” But I didn’t, not really. Why would she like that about him? We followed Pryce, and I wondered if maybe there was some way I could get Chip to drive me to the ferry without anyone noticing.

  But as we climbed the granite steps and entered the massive foyer, a shrill voice cried, “Madison! Come here at once and let me meet your date!”

  I took one last glance at the door and sighed. I was the date. They would miss me if I tried to book it out of there.

  Madison grimaced and reached for my hand. I laced my fingers through hers and took a deep breath as she hustled me down a short hallway.

  The house was different inside than what I’d expected—less formal, more comfortable. It was airy and bright, courtesy of the enormous windows that faced the water. Tall ceilings, exposed wooden beams, and polished wood floors reflected the natural light, adding to the feeling of elegant spaciousness. We passed a huge oil painting of the ocean, a bright-blue swathe with a tiny red boat in the middle.

  I felt like that boat. I was surrounded, and I wasn’t sure where I was going.

  But it became clear as Madison hustled me down the hall and pulled me into a bright, airy study with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. She cleared her throat. “Mother.”

  “There you are!” Maddy’s mother, tall and lithe, leapt out of her seat. She wore a fitted gray T-shirt, white jeans, and a gauzy cashmere wrap. Her hair and makeup were impeccable and tasteful, just like the house. She smiled broadly beneath her white-blond bob, revealing her blinding teeth. I counted zero lines on her face. Zero. Not even a crow’s foot had been left as a clue to her age, which could have been anywhere north of forty.

  “Who is this? It must be your someone special!” She turned her green eyes, that looked so much like Maddy’s, on me. “Well, hello there. No wonder my daughter’s been hiding you from me—you’re gorgeous!” She clasped my hands and got closer, her laser-like gaze zipping over every inch of me. Her diamond earrings were so big that I almost had to squint as she inched closer.

  “Yes, you’ll do nicely. Finally, a real man. You could probably bench-press Sienna’s fiancé! In fact, I might try to arrange that!” She chortled.

  Madison’s face turned beet red. “Mother, this is Roberto Palmieri—he goes by Bob. Bob is nice, and he’s my date for the weekend, so hands off, okay?”

  Her mother frowned before she released me, taking one last appraising glance as she stepped back. “You never were one to share, Maddy.”

  Madison’s blush spread down her neck in unruly blotches. “Right. Okay. Ah, Bob, this is my mother, Aileen Delaney. She won’t be pawing you for the rest of the weekend, I promise.”

  Aileen made a face at her daughter. “Says you!”

  “Nice to meet you.” I flashed her the dimple.

  She grinned in response, looking like a cat about to devour a canary in one bite. “So tell me, Bob.” Aileen’s voice was a purr. “What’s a fine male specimen like you doing with a nerd like Madison?”

  “Mother.” Maddy looked as though she might cry or run away, or both.

  I put my arm protectively around Maddy and pulled her close. “I don’t think Madison’s a nerd, Mrs. Delaney.”

  “Call me Aileen.” She tilted her chin, inspecting us next to each other. “You two don’t seem to have a lot in common. You’re a Tarzan, but Maddy’s no Jane. My little girl does not know how to swing through the jungle.” She grinned widely, as though the word “swing” brought her special pleasure.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake! I glanced at Madison. She still looked as though she might burst into tears. I turned back to her mother. “Ma’am, I’m—”

  “Aileen.”

  “Right, Aileen.” I smiled again, forcing myself to be civil, even though Aileen was anything but. “Madison’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

  “Ah.” Aileen’s eyes sparkled. “And is that because you’re a hanger-on?”

  “I’m sorry?” I didn’t let my smile falter.

  “A hanger-on.” She pronounced the words slowly as if perhaps English was not my first language. “Someone who clings to someone else because it benefits them.”

  “Not at all.” I gripped Maddy tighter. “I have my own life, but it’s better with Madison in it.”

  “Is that so?” Aileen motioned around the study to the grounds outside. “You’ll be proposing to her shortly, I expect, after seeing the vast amount of wealth she comes from.”

  Madison clenched her hands together. “Mother!”

  “If I ever propose to Maddy, that will be our business.” At that, Madison’s knees buckled, but I held her up. “And it
will have nothing to do with you or your money. It would have everything to do with your daughter and my feelings for her, not to mention her feelings, which I care about deeply.” And you seem to have no regard for!

  Aileen put her hands on her hips. “We’ll see.”

  Wow, this woman was a piece of work.

  “It was so great to meet you, ma’am.” Aileen cringed, and I mentally fist-pumped. “But I think we’ve heard enough. I’m taking Madison to her room now.”

  Aileen’s gaze flicked to her daughter in distaste. “Oh, for the love of God. Don’t be such a baby, Maddy. You know I don’t like to beat around the bush.”

  Maddy’s voice was thick when she spoke. “There are bushes, and then there are bushes, Mother.”

  “It’s all good,” I said a little too brightly. I maneuvered Maddy toward the door, desperate to get away from the mom. “All the bushes are good!”

  Aileen winked at me, and I swallowed hard. Was that because I’d said bush?

  “See you two later!” Her voice tinkled after us as we hustled down the hall.

  Once we’d made it out of earshot, I glanced at Maddy. She was still red, but at least her lip wasn’t quivering anymore. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “I’m super.”

  I let her go and jabbed my finger in the direction of the study. “You did not prepare me for that.”

  “I told you she was bad,” Maddy moaned.

  “You didn’t tell me she was a stalker-cougar! You said she was an uptight Catholic!”

  Maddy shrugged. “She is. She’s just also a stalker-cougar. She’s all the things.”

  I shook my head. “I’m confused.”

  “She’s a hypocrite, okay?” Maddy hissed. “That’s the easiest way to sum it up. And she doesn’t apologize for herself because she’s never had to apologize for herself. She’s always been the one with the most power because she has the most money. We’re all just on the payroll, even my dad.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t believe she already asked me about proposing to you. You know she’s Googling me right now, checking out my level of hanger-on-ness.”