My Super-Hot Fake Wedding Date Page 5

  Maddy bit her lip. “It’s for the best, I guess. I didn’t even have time to…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked around suspiciously. “We shouldn’t talk here. Let’s go to our rooms.”

  I followed her through the cavernous house, and the painting caught my eye again. Hey, little red boat, it’s just you and me, and dude…how do we get out of here?

  Chapter Eight

  MADISON

  I dragged Bob through the house to the east wing. We called it a “wing,” but really, it was a whole separate house attached to the main structure by a breezeway. He whistled when I brought him inside his room. The king-sized bed faced the wall of windows, which showcased a direct, unspoiled view of the beach. “Here we are.”

  “This is amazing. I wish I could enjoy it, but I think I have PTSD from meeting your mom.”

  I sank onto the bed, staring at the ocean. “Me too.”

  Bob went to the closet and found his clothes already neatly unpacked and arranged inside. “So about your mother…” He sighed. “Sorry about what I said. I shouldn’t have talked about her like that. She just took me by surprise.”

  “She definitely keeps us all on our toes.” I laughed, but it came out shrill. “I didn’t know she would do that—that she would hit on you. She might already be drinking.” I checked my watch.

  “Does she…” Bob seemed to choose his words carefully. “Does she do this a lot?”

  I shook my head. “Not to me. But then again, I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school.” I would have to ask Sienna, but I couldn’t picture my mother flirting with rail-thin, preppy Tim, Sienna’s fiancé. “I haven’t seen her act that inappropriately in a while. The wedding stress must be getting to her.”

  He nodded, letting my flimsy attempt at rationalizing my mother’s actions slip by. “Is she always that rotten to you?”

  I picked at some invisible lint on my skirt. “Yes.”

  Bob sat across from me. “I don’t understand how she’s not proud of you. If I had a daughter, I’d want her to be like you—successful, accomplished, a business owner.”

  I shrugged. “My mother never approved of me always reading books and choosing to take extra AP classes over hanging out with my friends and shopping all the time like Sienna did. She thought there was something wrong with me.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you.” Bob shook his head. “Your mother might be another story.”

  “Did I mention I was sorry?” My eyes filled with tears, but I blinked them back. I’d vowed a long time ago not to let her make me cry anymore—it was such a waste of time and expensive mascara.

  “You don’t need to be sorry. I feel bad you have to be here.”

  “Well, my sister needs me.” I forced myself to smile. “So onwards and upwards!”

  He motioned between the two of us. “Your mother didn’t seem to buy this. What do we do?”

  “Just keep playing the part.” I shook my head. “I know I shouldn’t care what she thinks. It must seem crazy to you.”

  Bob’s brow furrowed. “Not at all. I’d want a buffer from her, too.”

  “Thank you for being awesome. I owe you one.” I got up to leave. “I’m going to head to my room to change, then I’ll come back and grab you in a half hour for lunch. I’m sure my sister will want to meet you.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” He stood and walked me to the door. “Where are you staying?”

  I licked my lips. “Next door.”

  “Perfect. I’m glad we’re neighbors. If we need to make a run for it, I’ll know exactly where to find you.”

  “Ha ha. We won’t need to escape. The worst is probably over.” I smiled as I headed out, but I caught a glimpse of Bob’s wary expression.

  We both knew I was lying.

  Much to my horror, my mother was pacing my room when I went inside. “Madison, a word.”

  “Are you drunk, Mom?”

  She stopped and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare speak like that to me, young lady!”

  “Um, I can’t ask if you’re drunk, but you can ask my date if he’s planning on proposing after seeing the house?”

  Aileen rolled her eyes, a signature move beneath her newly applied eyelash extensions. “I have to ask you and your sister’s suitors that. Well, not Tim of course. He has more money than God. But this Bob fellow, with his big forearms and thick hair—he’s a different story. How much do you know about him, Madison?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “Enough. He’s a very nice guy. That’s the most important thing.”

  She snorted. “He’s a pauper.”

  I sighed. “He’s not after our money, Mother. Bob isn’t wealthy like we are, it’s true. But that doesn’t make him a ‘hanger-on’ or whatever ridiculous thing you accused him of.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “He drives a delivery truck. I just had Pryce Google his annual salary. You know what it is, right? It wouldn’t even pay your property taxes.”

  I gave her an icy smile. “Mom, I can pay my own property taxes, thank you very much. I don’t need Bob’s money, or yours for that matter.”

  “Ha! You’ll want my money someday, when I’m gone.” She smoothed her hair. “You should be nicer, Maddy. How many times do I have to tell you?”

  Aileen loved to hang her money over my head. Someday, when she died, her estate would make me one of the wealthiest women in the country. But there was always the caveat that if I didn’t do what she wanted, the vast riches would disappear.

  “I don’t really care about all that money.” It was true.

  “Think of all the good you could do with it, though,” Aileen expertly wheedled. “You know your sister will just buy a chateau and forget all about the people who are suffering all over the world. I’m counting on you to carry on our philanthropic work. But only if you’re settled, with a family. I can’t trust you to manage everything if you’re only focused on your career. You won’t give our foundations the attention they deserve.”

  My stomach dropped. That was where she got me every time. My mother was terrible a lot of the time, but she and my father gave away a fortune every year to charity. That was her hold over me, the sword of Damocles she loved to dangle. Because she was right—Sienna preferred to spend all of her time partying, attending fashion shows, and relentlessly shopping. She would go to a charity ball, but she would never be caught dead organizing one. Her favorite charity was her own walk-in closet. That left little old me, who was supposed to get married, have babies to carry on the empire, and organize fundraising luncheons for the rest of my life for the right kinds of people.

  My mother shrugged an elegant shoulder. “Do you know I’m actually enjoying this? It means so much to me that you care.”

  I blinked at her. “Huh?”

  “Bringing a date this weekend!” She shook her head, her choppy blond locks swaying. “I know you aren’t interested in a man like that. You didn’t have to pretend, sweetheart, but it was kind of you to put on a show. It makes me feel special that you care enough to feel like you have to lie.”

  “I’m not lying. Bob is my boyfriend.”

  She laughed. “Maddy, there’s only one thing to be done with a man like that.” She jerked her thumb in the direction of Bob’s bedroom. “And you wouldn’t know how to do it if you tried.”

  I opened the door and motioned for her to get out. “You know what, Mother? I think you’re getting worse in your old age. I didn’t think it was possible, but maybe all that Juvéderm and Botox leaked into your brain. Or maybe it’s the vodka. It doesn’t matter. You’ve gone off the deep end.”

  “Darling, I have to go—and not off the deep end. So many things to do.” Completely unruffled, she air-kissed in my direction. “It’s been fun catching up. Thanks again for bringing Bob. Honestly, Mommy didn’t know you cared!” She breezed out, her gray cashmere caftan trailing behind her.

  I slammed my door then slid down the wall and sat on the floor. I did yoga breathing. I meditated
for five full minutes. Nothing helped.

  There’s only one thing to be done with a man like that. You wouldn’t know how to do it if you tried!

  I couldn’t get my mother’s words out of my head. Ugh…was my alcoholic, Catholic, cougar of a mother right about me?

  I’ll show her. At least, I’ll pretend-show her. I went to Bob’s door and knocked. “Hey, Bob?”

  “Yeah?” He opened the door, smiling.

  “I need you to have pretend sex with me. Loud pretend sex. Now.”

  Bob opened his mouth and closed it. Then he ushered me in. “Yeah, okay.”

  “Really?”

  He shrugged. “I’m not sure why you want to do this, but I’d love to have loud pretend sex with you, Madison. That way, this weekend officially cannot get any weirder.”

  Chapter Nine

  BOB

  “All right.” I motioned to the bed. “How loud, exactly?”

  “Loud enough so that Pryce will hear us and go tell my mom. I saw him sneaking around the hall just now.”

  I nodded, trying to pretend that this was all perfectly rational. She climbed onto the bed, her blond hair spilling all over the place, and I hesitated. “Why are we doing this exactly?”

  Maddy sighed and lay back against the pillows. “My mother just accosted me. She really doesn’t believe you’re my boyfriend. She also thinks I wouldn’t know what to do with you…you know.” She motioned to the bed.

  I chuckled. “Your mom’s something, all right.”

  “I know.” She grimaced then put a pillow over her face.

  “So the pretend sex is to…” Nope, I still didn’t get it. “Do what, exactly?”

  “To put her on notice that we’re the real thing.” She peered out at me. “And to put her on notice that she’s wrong—about me, I mean.”

  “Madison.” I sank down next to her. “Why do you care what your mother thinks? I mean, really.”

  She leaned up, her face earnest. “Because she doesn’t get to win! She doesn’t know who I really am. She never did. I’m fun. I have lots of fun, all the time. And unlike what she said, I’d certainly know what to do with you!” She pointed in my direction then, horrified with herself, wrenched the pillow back over her face. “I just don’t want her to think that she’s right all the time. She’s the wrongest person I’ve ever met!” Her wail came out muffled.

  I removed the pillow. “Okay. Let’s show her what’s what. I’m all in.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Do you mean it? I was afraid you were going to make a break for it.”

  “Trust me, it crossed my mind. But I’m loyal. I’m not going anywhere. C’mon.” I reached for her hands and pulled her up. “You ready?”

  She nodded, eyes blazing. “I’ll start.” She threw her head back and moaned. “Oh yeah. Right there!” She leaned closer and whispered, “We can skip the foreplay. That’s usually pretty quiet.”

  We both dissolved into silent laughter. But then I straightened, leaned closer to the wall, and called, “Yeah, girl! That’s so good, baby. Uh… uh…uh.”

  Maddy’s eyeballs almost popped out of her head, and I felt myself begin to blush. I’d sounded way too close to what I actually sounded like when I was… you know. Embarrassed, but wanting to finish what we’d started, I made a circular motion with my finger, the universal sign for let’s get going!

  Madison crawled toward the headboard and started slamming her palms against it. “Yes, just like that! Give it to me! Harder, harder!”

  I got next to her, grabbed a pillow, and smacked it as if it were her ass.

  “You can’t hear it,” she whispered.

  I grabbed a magazine from the nightstand and spread it over the top of the pillow. Now it sounded like a proper spanking. “Love that ass!” I kept smacking, and Madison kept giggling as she shook the headboard.

  She moaned some more, finding a rhythm as she kept beating her hands against the board. I grunted and tried to keep from staring at her as she threw her head back and yelled, “OH MY GOD, BOB! RIGHT THERE! YES, YES, YES!”

  I gave the pillow one final smack, then we collapsed onto the bed, silently laughing. “Did you just When Harry Met Sally me?”

  “I loved that movie.” She giggled. “That’s where I learned to fake it!”

  I sobered up. “You wouldn’t have to fake it with me.” I waggled my eyebrows and gave the pillow another playful smack.

  Madison reddened and cleared her throat. “Right. Well, that was fun! Hopefully Pryce heard us and is off reporting to my mom already!” She straightened herself and practically leapt off the bed.

  “Hey, hey—don’t run off so fast. He needs to think we’re cuddling.”

  “Right.” She sat down on the edge of the bed, her back ramrod straight.

  “Are you not much of a cuddler, Maddy?”

  “Um…” She still wouldn’t look at me.

  “You don’t have to be embarrassed. I mean, at least not more than me.” I held up the pillow. “I was the one spanking this thing.”

  “That was perfect. Thank you. The improvisation was flawless.” She laughed. “About the cuddling thing… is it weird if I don’t know if I like it? It’s sort of been a long time.”

  “How long?” I didn’t mean to pry. I was genuinely curious.

  She looked sheepish. “Too long. But that’s another story.” She glanced toward the door. “Are you ready to face them after all that?”

  “Sure.” I hoped our initial encounter with Mrs. Delaney would be the worst of the weekend. We’d already hit rock bottom.

  “Great! But be prepared—my sister’s kind of a bitch. She’s a lot like my mom.” Madison wrinkled her nose. “And my dad’s very boys’ club.”

  “Great.”

  She forced a smile. “That’s what I was thinking—just great!”

  I got up, smoothed my clothes, and offered her my hand. “C’mon. We just had a great quickie. We can face anything.”

  Maddy looked confused. “Quickie?”

  “Well, yeah.” I checked my watch. “That took less than five minutes.”

  Her hand fluttered to her throat. “So that was super quick, then? Huh.”

  “Huh?”

  She hopped up, rolling her eyes. “Right. Gah, I don’t know why I’m being such a spaz.”

  “Shake it off,” I suggested. But I recognized the symptoms because I was suffering from the same condition. No one had touched Madison in a long time.

  I watched as she fixed her hair and straightened her skirt.

  I pried my eyes away, realizing that I was staring. OH MY GOD, BOB! RIGHT THERE! Her words rang in my ears.

  What would it be like to make her scream my name for real?

  I shook my head to try and clear it. Who’s the spaz now? But unfortunately, I already knew the answer.

  Chapter Ten

  MADISON

  “I cannot believe I’m getting married tomorrow!” Sienna toasted herself for the fifth time. “It’s crazy that I’ll be off the market forever!”

  Like me, my younger sister had long blond hair and green eyes, but our similarities ended there. Or so I hoped. She was lunching in her string-bikini top—and by ‘lunching,’ I meant that she’d eaten three bites of her salad and had since stuck to wine. The ten other bridesmaids in attendance, a mix of Sienna’s former sorority sisters from Delta Phi Chi Delta and friends from boarding school, looked just like her and were also refusing to eat. All had long blond hair, even the ones who were Asian and African-American.

  My cousin Claire was going to freak when she got there later that afternoon. She was the only brunette in the bridal party.

  “Did you ask your bridesmaids to dye their hair?” I asked Sienna.

  “Of course I did! We’re getting identical blowouts. The pictures are going to be off the charts.”

  I nodded, pretending I understood. “What about Claire?”

  Sienna snorted. “Claire can stand in the back. She refused to color her hair. I mean, it could on
ly be an improvement. But oh no, she had to get all women’s rights and lesbian about it.”

  “Ah, I see.” Claire was a lesbian, which Sienna lumped together with a rather random collection of things—including socialism, veganism and refusing to wear makeup—even though Claire was a registered republican, loved steak and had been rocking eye shadow since she was twelve. I decided to change the subject. “Where’s Tim?”

  Sienna ran her long, lacquered fingernails through her hair. “He’s golfing with the guys, just trying to enjoy his last hours of freedom.”

  “Aw, you know he’s excited.” Her maid of honor, Mia, nudged her. “He’s been waiting to propose to you since freshman year!” Mia and Sienna could’ve been twins. They both had long, sexily tousled hair, smooth tan skin, and blinding-white teeth. Oh, and I couldn’t forget the string-bikini tops.

  I looked around the table, feeling as if I might’ve dropped in on an episode of Girls Gone Wild, the “I’m Richer Than You” version.

  Sienna, Tim, and all their friends had attended a small southern college, notorious for its Greek parties and secret societies. This was where Sienna had learned how to drink heavily without ever looking bad, but I was still confused as to how she’d ever actually graduated. It didn’t matter, at least not to her. Tim’s family had even more money than ours did, and in her words, “He didn’t even make me sign a prenup!”

  “So, Bob.” Sienna leaned forward, smiling at him. “Maddy tells me you went to BC. Did you know Alex Nichols? Randy McGarrity? Elise Symes?”

  “No, I don’t recognize any of those names. I played lacrosse. I didn’t have time to socialize much outside the team.”

  “Ooh, you played lacrosse?” Mia tossed her hair over her shoulder, inspecting Bob more closely. “What position?”

  “Defender. Nothing glamorous. It was my job to protect my teammates and the goal.”