My future husband waits on the curb inside the terminal.
Might as well start calling him that now, I figure.
Other people might struggle to find their passenger, but mine stands a head above everyone else. It helps that he’s not passing the time waiting by staring down at his phone. Charlie searches the approaching cars.
Looking for me.
I’m at the airport to pick up my fiancé. Never thought that would be a scenario I live out.
Through the windshield our eyes catch. Then Charlie hits me with his beautiful, wide grin that shines brightly in this dingy terminal.
Something in my chest does a weird flip-flop. Definitely not my heart though. That’s not allowed.
I maneuver to the curb and throw my car in park before climbing out to help Charlie with his two massive rolling suitcases. Considering that he’s moving his entire life across the Atlantic, I’d say he packed light.
“Hey! No need to get out, I’ve got this.” He waves me off, but I’m not daunted by polite refusals of help.
“You get one, I’ll get the other,” I counter while popping open the trunk.
Charlie doesn’t bother arguing anymore, letting me grab his other bag and heft the thing into my car.
Smart man.
Once we’re settled in our seats and pulling onto the highway, Charlie shifts his body toward mine.
“How is everything?”
With traffic heavier at this time of day, I have to keep my eyes fully on the road, which means I don’t get to stare at the attractive man in my passenger seat while we talk. Guess that doesn’t matter too much. If everything sticks to the plan, I’ll have a good year to ogle him.
No, I scold myself. No ogling allowed. This is just business.
“A lot of your boxes arrived, and none looked like they sustained damage. I have them all in my guest room. Well, your room now.”
“No stipulation in the will about us sharing a bed?”
My heart rate accelerates faster than the speed of the car. “Did you think there was?”
Charlie’s already dark skin grows darker with his blush. “N-no! Of course not. Just a joke.”
I focus on the road and try to dismiss the stray thought of what it would be like to slide under the covers with Charlie. I wonder if he sleeps in a shirt and shorts. Or just boxers.
Or nothing at all.
I shove the thought from my mind.
“No. She didn’t go that far. No proof of our marriage getting consummated is needed.”
Awkward silence descends between us, which does not bode well for our marriage.
“This is weird, huh?” Charlie’s question pulls me out of my head. “I mean, we’re going from zero to sixty. Maybe more than sixty. I don’t know what speed a fake marriage is, but it’s definitely something that takes easing into.” The laughter in his voice soothes my nerves, and I grin over at my new partner as we slow down for a stoplight.
“Yeah. Not sure how to prepare for this.”
He squints at me. “You’re telling me you have no prior experience with fake marriages?”
I struggle to keep a grin off my face. “Oddly enough, no. Zero.”
Charlie reclines his seat a few inches, and I realize he’s already slid the seat back as far as it’ll go. The guy is like Dash: long legs.
“Sounds like we’ll learn together then.”
I nod, accelerating as the light turns green. “You know, everything my grandma is demanding we do, I think it comes from her idea that long-term associating and building shared interests will keep a marriage going. Since this isn’t real, we could approach it as friend bonding. By the end of this thing, you and I will be best friends.” I drum my fingers on my steering wheel. “Or we’ll hate each other.”
“I don’t see how I could hate you, Luna.”
That draws a dark chuckle out of me. “Just you wait.” Wanting to get off those confusing topics, I switch us back to casual chatting mode. “How was your flight?”
“I got an emergency exit aisle. That was nice.”
“Uh, because you’re worried about a water landing?”
Charlie laughs as he leans his head back on the headrest. “No. I trust pilots and flight technology. No, I like them for the leg room.” He pats his thigh, and I can’t help noticing how his pants hug his legs tight.
Charlie Keller is a well-formed man on the lanky end of the spectrum. He’s tall and lean, towering without being imposing.
Some women might enjoy the challenge of climbing him.
Not me. Nope. Definitely not his future wife.
“Still couldn’t sleep though.” He sighs. “It’s going to take me a while to get off Germany time.”
“You tired? You should nap. I’ll wake you up when we get to my place.”
“You don’t mind?”
I glance over to see his lids already drooping. “Nope. Go forth and sleep.”
Charlie reclines the seat the rest of the way, and in less than a minute he dozes off. As he slumbers beside me, I get an almost protective sensation. Like I’m keeping my future husband safe when he’s at his most vulnerable.
More like I’m desperate to figure out a way to pay the guy back for this amazing favor he’s doing me.
How could he not want money?!
The fact that he’s continued to refuse me paying him drives my mind on a winding trip. Money is all my family ever cared about. How to make a buck off of anything.
Thank god, my father doesn’t know about the inheritance. I’m not sure how much my life is worth to him, but I’m guessing it’s less than $300,000.
A half-hour later, we pull up in front of the small, white house I bought with my own money two years ago.
The place isn’t huge, but I like the cozy little structure.
And it’s mine, which is the most important part. Earned every square foot of it.
The engine quiets when I turn the key. Charlie doesn’t immediately rouse. I take a moment to examine him. He has a round face, but interesting angles appear when he smiles. And Charlie smiles a lot. Must’ve lived a charmed life to have so much joy in him.
I’m not jealous.
Well, maybe a little.
But I wouldn’t want to take his happiness from him.
His hair is cut close to his head in a fade that darkens from his ears to his crown. I wonder if the contained cut is his preference or chosen for his corporate job. Maybe he’ll let his hair grow over the next year, allowing some kinky curls to develop.
The idea of us spending an entire year together is wild.
If he agrees, that is. No signed wedding certificate means the deal is still in limbo.
If I were smart, I would have driven him straight to the courthouse and gotten this set in stone. No backing out.
But there’s more than just getting his signature on a piece of paper.
Wai Po made sure of that.
I know this fake marriage scheme is ridiculous. I keep waiting for Charlie to tell me that Dash asked him to go along with it for long enough that my baby brother can find me some professional help.
But Dash doesn’t know about this, and Charlie has literally shipped his life to my house over the past few weeks.
Just to test that this is real, I reach over and poke him.
“Huh?” Charlie blinks himself awake.
“We’re at my house. Are you ready to come in?”
“Wha—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head to wake himself up. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
Charlie unfolds himself from the car, and we each claim a bag. He doesn’t bother arguing with me this time, and I hope we’ve cleared up that nonsense never to be dealt with again.
No stereotypical gender roles in this household.
Although I might give him the job of reaching for things on the top shelf, just so I don’t have to bother with dragging my step stool out every time.
“This is it.” Wow, I could sell used cars with that enthusiastic pitch. The front door lets us into a small entryway. On my long list of construction projects is knocking down one wall here to open things up a bit more. “Swear it gets better.” There goes that saleswoman again.
When I glance up at Charlie, he’s smiling back at me.
That’s when I remember the job he just left—and assume he was good at.
Salesman.
Yeah, I’m not impressing this audience. Hopefully, my house can speak for itself. I have tried to make my home a comfortable space. Nothing like what I grew up in. I chose the furniture and decorations not because of their price tags, but more because they gave me a good feeling.
The whole place is one floor, and we need to cross through the living room to get to the guest bedroom. I’m pushing open the door when I realize I lost Charlie over by the coffee table. He reaches out a hand, sifting through the books I left sprawled across the surface. A collection of history books and memoirs, all holding facts and experiences related to a single country.
“Are you planning a trip to Taiwan?” Charlie glances toward me, fingers still resting on a title.
“Maybe. Someday. That’s where my grandparents are from,” I say, like it isn’t a big deal. Like I didn’t spend a chunk of my life wondering. Like I didn’t just learn a year ago when I finally tracked down my grandmother and she told me.
The books, with their stiff, barely touched pages, mock me.
I’m not a historian. None of my interests deal with memorizing facts from textbooks. But after my grandmother died, the authentic ways I could learn about my Taiwanese heritage shrank.
The problem is that I don’t want to have to learn the information.
I want to already know it.
The way I know how to hot-wire a car without setting off the alarm and how to climb out a second-story window using a drainpipe.
The way the smell of fast-food fries and boxed mac and cheese reminds me of dinners as a kid.
The way I know which streets in New Orleans to avoid after dark.
Endless Lamont teachings I never remember learning. As if I always knew them.
I wish my Taiwanese heritage was the same. That the knowledge was an essential part of my DNA.
But it’s always going to be secondhand knowledge. Whatever I can pick up from studying or watching the news or taking a trip. I may look the part, but it’s not a true part of me.
One more reason to be pissed off at my mother.
“They moved to America soon after they got married and had my mom here. But I guess she didn’t get along with them. All I know is she left when she got pregnant with me and my brother Leo. Cut off all contact. Changed her name and everything.”
Charlie straightens, keeping his earnest eyes on me. “But you reconnected, right?”
I turn back to the bedroom, not sure what kind of emotions will show on my face. “Yeah, I knew her. I found her a year before she died. So there’s that, at least.”
But I could have had twenty-nine more years. I could have had her love and my history.
And I could have had more than just her.
“Too late to meet my grandfather though. He died in the nineties.”
Wai Po showed me pictures of a stern-looking man. Would he have been cold with me? Or could I have gotten him to smile the way I’d gotten my grandmother to those last few visits?
“I’m sorry. That’s rough.” Charlie appears next to me now, but despite his size, I don’t feel crowded. His presence comforts me.
“I missed out on a lot of time with my family.” Admitting that hurts, but Charlie needs to know how important this next year is for me. “I don’t want that to happen with Leo.”
“I understand.”