The moment my sister tried to humiliate me in front of two hundred wedding guests, a man I had never met leaned close and whispered, “Whatever happens next, act like you’ve been in love with me for months.” I should have walked away. Instead, I slipped my hand into his, smiled across the ballroom at my sister, and watched the happiest day of her life begin to unravel.
Chapter 2
Kira was standing with Vincent, Marianne, and several members of the Callahan family when we approached. Her expression changed the instant she noticed Thomas’s hand settle naturally at the small of my back.
“Thomas,” she said.
“Kira. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
Her eyes shifted toward me.
“I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
I gave her the same pleasant smile she had been giving me all evening.
“We’ve known each other for months.”
Silence.
“Months?”
“Some things I prefer to keep private.”
Thomas nodded. “That’s one of the things I admire about Rachel.”
Marianne looked suddenly fascinated.
“How did you meet?”
My mind went blank.
Thomas answered without hesitation.
“A children’s literacy auction downtown.”
I turned toward him.
He continued smoothly. “Rachel outbid me on a first-edition Hemingway. I invited her to dinner hoping she’d eventually let me see it.”
It was so absurdly convincing that I nearly believed it myself.
“I made him wait,” I added.
Thomas looked into my eyes.
“Three dinners.”
“Four.”
“Three and dessert.”
Marianne laughed.
Vincent grinned.
Kira did not.
“I’m surprised Rachel never mentioned this.”
Thomas shrugged. “Not everyone needs an audience for a relationship.”
The words were polite.
The message was not.
Kira’s cheeks colored.
Then the band began a slow song.
Thomas glanced toward the dance floor.
“Our song.”
I almost choked.
He extended his hand.
“Dance with me?”
Every eye around us was watching.
“Of course.”
His hand settled at my waist as we moved onto the dance floor. For the first several seconds, I worried I would step on his shoes.
“Do we actually have a song?” I whispered.
“We do now.”
“You’re dangerously good at lying.”
“Pretending,” he corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“What is it?”
“A lie is meant to steal something. Tonight we’re returning something.”
“What?”
“Your dignity.”
The answer surprised me.
I looked toward Kira.
She was whispering rapidly to Vincent.
“What made you do this?” I asked Thomas.
His expression became serious.
“My older sister spent years treating me the way yours treats you.”
“You?”
“Oh, yes. According to Melissa, I was awkward, too quiet, too interested in computers, and destined to die alone in a room full of servers.”
“What happened?”
“I built the software platform our family company now depends on.”
I laughed.
“And Melissa?”
“Three failed startups and an inspirational podcast.”
This time I laughed loud enough that several people looked over.
Thomas smiled.
“Sometimes the tortoise wins because the hare spends too much time making sure everyone is watching.”
Before I could answer, Kira appeared beside us.
“Rachel, could I borrow you?”
Thomas did not release me.
“For what?”
“Family photograph.”
“The photographer can wait,” Thomas said pleasantly.
Kira blinked. “It’ll only take a minute.”
“I’ve waited months to dance with her at a family event.”
There was that word again.
Months.
Kira looked at me.
“You seriously never told me you were dating Thomas?”
“You never asked.”
“Yes, I did.”
“No, Kira. You told me I was single. Repeatedly. There’s a difference.”
Her face hardened.
“I was concerned about you.”
Thomas tilted his head.
“Concern usually begins with a question.”
Kira looked at him.
“What?”
“If you were concerned about Rachel, wouldn’t you ask whether she was happy before explaining her life to strangers?”
For once, my sister had no response.
“We’ll come for the photograph when this song is over,” I said.
Kira returned to the family table.
I realized my hands were shaking.
“You all right?” Thomas asked.
“Terrified.”
“That didn’t sound terrified.”
“It felt terrific.”
He smiled.
“Those two things can coexist.”
Our performance should have ended after that dance.
Instead, it grew.
Relatives approached us all evening. Thomas answered questions with an ease that made me wonder how often he negotiated difficult situations at work. I contributed details whenever necessary, and somehow our invented history became increasingly elaborate.
We had supposedly eaten Italian food on our first date. I had supposedly beaten him badly at Scrabble. He claimed I had once made him walk six blocks in the rain because I refused to abandon a restaurant reservation.
“That actually sounds like me,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“How?”
“I’ve been listening.”
That answer stayed with me.
By dinner, Marianne had moved me from Table 19 to the Callahan family table.
Vincent’s father, Charles, who had barely acknowledged me earlier, discovered I worked in marketing and spent twenty minutes asking my opinion about expanding one of his companies to younger customers.
Kira watched from three seats away.
Every time someone asked me a question, she became quieter.
The irony was painful. I had not changed during the wedding. I was the same woman who had walked in alone.
The only thing that changed was everyone’s perception of my relationship status.
Apparently a boyfriend had transformed me from an object of pity into someone worth knowing.
I found that more depressing than flattering.
Thomas seemed to understand.
“Don’t let their sudden interest confuse you,” he said quietly when the table conversation shifted.
“What do you mean?”
“You were interesting before I touched your waist.”
I looked at him.
He continued eating as though he had said nothing unusual.
Later, the DJ called unmarried men to the dance floor for the garter toss.
Thomas glanced at me.
I raised an eyebrow.
He smiled.
Then he remained seated, still holding my hand.
The gesture created a whisper that moved through the tables.
Marianne noticed.
So did Kira.
Her bridal smile tightened visibly.
By the time the reception began winding down, our little performance had accomplished more than I had expected. Kira no longer looked triumphant. She looked confused, annoyed, and perhaps even jealous.
Thomas walked me through the hotel lobby toward the parking area.
Without the crowd around us, I suddenly felt awkward.
“Thank you,” I said. “You rescued a humiliating evening.”
“I didn’t rescue you.”
“You definitely did.”
“No.” He stopped beside my car. “I gave you an excuse to stop pretending you deserved what she was doing. You handled the rest yourself.”
I looked down.
“That sounds like something you’ve had to learn.”
“I have.”
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then Thomas reached inside his jacket and removed a business card. He wrote a number on the back.
“My personal cell.”
I took it.
“In case we need to coordinate our fake anniversary?”
He smiled.
“Actually, I was hoping you might have dinner with me.”
I stared at him.
“For appearances?”
“No.”
The parking lot suddenly felt very quiet.
“A real dinner?”
“A real dinner.”
“You realize we’ve spent the entire evening lying about already dating.”
“Think of it as getting the paperwork done before the relationship starts.”
I laughed.
He leaned against my car.
“I came here expecting another night of relatives asking why I haven’t settled down. Instead, I met the first person in a long time who seemed completely comfortable being herself until other people started telling her she shouldn’t be.”
His voice softened.
“I’d like to know that woman.”
Something warm moved through me.
I looked at the card.
“What if I don’t want to wait until sometime?”
His eyes met mine.
“Then call me tomorrow.”
I did.
