Chapter 18

On Monday morning, Betty and Darcy sat at their favorite table at Katie’s Koffee where a Thanksgiving scene had been painted on the window overlooking the main street.

Patrons jostled for a spot at the cream and sugar counter.

As she wiped down an empty table with a damp rag, a barista hummed along with the song playing on the speakers.

Betty sipped her bittersweet mocha. Cradling the phone with one hand, she scrolled through messages. “Did you enjoy the wedding?”

“Yes,” Darcy lied. Worrying about the fake engagement, she had not slept much the previous two nights. Only Victor’s supple lips and curious tongue could keep her reservations in check. If only he could kiss her forever, she would forget every problem she had. But the kisses eventually ended, and reality settled like a blanket of snow over her thoughts.

Betty glanced up before returning her attention to her phone. “I want details.”

Cupping her mug of cappuccino, she warmed her face with the pungent scent of coffee. She did not hide the ring on the third finger of her left hand, but no one looked at her long enough to notice. “We enjoyed the typical LA wedding bash—overpriced food and plenty of dancing.”

“How did Victor behave as your date?”

“The perfect gentleman.” A brooding smile lingered on her face. If only she could confess to everything, then maybe she wouldn’t feel so conflicted about her decision to lie just so she could indulge in her romantic fantasy of making out with a younger man.

Betty set aside her phone and focused her gaze. “What else can you tell me?”

An uneasy silence thickened the air. The phony engagement threatened to muddle her otherwise good judgment. Setting her mug on the table, she bounced her knee. “Umm, I had one little incident.”

Gasping, Betty pointed at Darcy’s hand. “Are you wearing an engagement ring?”

She clenched her stomach. How should she answer? She had never lied to Betty.

Narrowing her gaze, she shook her finger. “I knew something special existed between you two. That’s why you kept telling me not to worry about Victor making partner. You probably asked him to step aside, and he did it just for you.” Betty pointed at Darcy’s chest. “Now, I know why you weren’t nervous about bringing him as your date, because you probably knew he planned to propose in front of everyone. I just can’t believe you kept it a secret.”

She placed a hand over her heart. “I didn’t know about the proposal.”

Gasping, she scrunched her forehead. “You mean you were surprised?”

“I’m still shocked.”

“So he waited to propose until after the reception, and away from everyone?”

“No.” Shaking her head, she recalled how he knelt on one knee and held up the ring like a tiny star.

“So I am right.” Taking a sip of her mocha, she stared off in the distance for a long moment. “I knew you loved him since the Gala. I guess fear kept you from saying anything because I would have told you he’s too young.”

Thoughts of the wedding reception drifted into Darcy’s mind. Everyone speculated she couldn’t land a young, successful man because of her age and financial status. Humiliation shuddered through her body. How could she tell Betty the truth when Betty thought no better of her than the so-called friends and family who derided her all night?

Betty grasped Darcy’s hand. “Oh, my God, I can’t believe you’re getting married.” The diamond glittered beneath the fluorescent lights. “The ring is so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. Did he have it custom made?”

Darcy shrugged, deciding to drop her efforts at truth telling and go along with the lie. “Sawyer’s Jewelers. The ring came from Victor’s grandmother. She gave it to his mother who gave it to him.”

“And he gave it to you.” Betty smiled. “Oh, how romantic. A family heirloom.” Releasing her hand, she sighed. “I should have suspected things were serious when you told me you’d been having lunch together, especially since you hardly ever date and Victor’s not exactly the most social type.”

She sipped her lukewarm cappuccino. “We kept our relationship a secret because we work together.” The lies slipped off her tongue much easier than the truth. She didn’t have to say much, but only confirm what Betty thought she might know.

“I understand.” She nodded. “But I’m still surprised. I mean, you always said you never wanted to remarry. What made you change your mind?”

She remembered the adrenaline rush through her body once she accepted the proposal. The hugs and congratulations from the crowd wrapped around her like a new sweater. Nathan’s quiet surprise and Tanya’s obvious envy crowned the evening. Plus the shocking depth of the sweetness of Victor’s kiss shattered her resistance to pretending to be his fiancée. The romance lingered long after the evening ended. “He told me dreams come true for those who believe.”

Betty laughed. “It sounds like he sold you on the fairytale.”

“Aren’t you and Chuck living happily-ever-after?”

She shrugged. “We take two steps forward and one step back. Chuck is talking about vacationing abroad, and I’m talking about increasing our savings. He thinks I’ll work long enough so he can enjoy a luxurious retirement, and I want to retire early to enjoy it with him. But the reality is we can’t afford to travel right now, and I have to continue working. The situation is frustrating.” As she touched Darcy’s arm, she pouted. “I just don’t want you to regret getting remarried. If you’re having a midlife crisis, then you should just enjoy the affair without the commitment.”

Hurt staggered through her. How shallow to have an affair. Lifting her eyebrows, she withdrew her arm. “Do you think I’m having a midlife crisis?”

“I don’t know.” Betty shrugged. “It’s just not like you to plunge headfirst into anything. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She bit her lower lip. Would Betty host a break-up party after her imaginary romance with Victor ended? A tsunami of sadness drowned her. “I have to go.” With the sudden urge to see Victor, she stood. She needed to know if he sold his colleagues on their engagement, or if he fumbled for an excuse to back out now before their world changed forever.

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she hugged Betty one last time before striding out the door. The cool autumn air slapped her cheeks, as if reprimanding her for not telling the truth, but Darcy didn’t care. She enjoyed the play acting. She craved kissing Victor’s coffee-flavored lips and smelling his musky cologne. She wanted to feel the rush of longing zip through her body from her scalp to her toes. But, most of all, she needed to melt her body against his and feel all of her doubts erase.

****

A line of people stood waiting to be helped in the reception area at Victor’s office.

Darcy glanced at her watch every few seconds and shuffled from one foot to the next.

The receptionist glanced up and recognized her. “Go on in,” she said. “I’ll tell your fiancé you’re here.”

My fiancé, she thought. She beamed with pleasure. He’d told the whole office. Thanking the receptionist, she darted down the hallway and rapped her knuckles on the closed door. “It’s Darcy.”

“Come in, darling,” Victor said.

Oh, goodness, she thought. He must have company. A trickle of dread stopped her from proceeding. She wanted to talk to him alone. Opening the door, she stepped into the small cozy room decorated with Tiffany lamps, leather chairs, and mahogany bookcases. The air smelled like old paper.

An elderly gentleman in a sharp suit standing next to Victor closed a manila folder and extended his hand. “I’m Albert Rollins, partner.”

“Darcy Madison.” She shook his hand.

“A pleasure to meet you.” Albert smiled, glancing up and down the length of her body. “Victor’s lucky to have such an attractive fiancée. Congratulations!”

Darcy flashed a tight smile. If this charade lasted a few months, how many people would they deceive along the way?

Victor winked. “Have a seat, darling. We’re just finishing.”

Albert cleared his throat. “We can meet after you take the future Mrs. Costello out to lunch.” He turned to Darcy. “I assume you’ll be taking his name.”

Nervousness heated her skin. “Why, umm, of course, why wouldn’t I?” she stammered.

“Actually, we’ve decided to take each other’s names to represent the equality of our partnership.” Victor picked up his name plate and pointed to the space between Victor and Costello. “Our new last name will be Madison-Costello.”

“Victor Madison-Costello.” Albert nodded. “The name has a nice ring.”

A rush of delight at the proposal flooded through her. During her marriage to Nathan, she abandoned her maiden name and taken his without question. She believed it necessary to not confuse her child about whether or not her father and mother were married. She never thought to ask Nathan to hyphenate both of their last names to create a new unified identity. But Victor had. Darcy Madison-Costello. How wonderful the name sounded. Unfortunately, this entire exchange perpetuated the myth of a marriage that would never happen, and her elation deflated like air from a balloon.

“She looks a little piqued,” Albert said. “Maybe you should both leave for lunch.”

“Right.” Placing the name plate on the desk, Victor grabbed his jacket. “What do you say, darling? Shall we dine at our usual spot?”

Narrowing her gaze, she wanted to hug and punch him for embroiling them in this charade. “Whatever you say, Mr. Madison-Costello.”

****

“We have to stop this play acting now,” Darcy said, once she and Victor settled in a booth at the café across the street. “I’ve already lied to Betty. Now, everyone at your office believes we’re engaged. This little white lie is getting out of hand.” She clenched her fists. “I think we should break up now.”

“Whoa-whoa-whoa.” He moved his hands up and down. “Let’s not make any decisions on an empty stomach.”

She growled. “I’m too upset to eat.”

A server arrived to take their order.

Consulting the menu, he pointed. “The special for me and a tuna salad sandwich with extra pickles for my fiancée.”

Eyes narrowed, she swatted his arm.

He flinched.

The server peered at Darcy’s hand. “That’s a beautiful ring. May I see it?”

A smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

Darcy lifted her hand from his arm, even though she wanted to swat him until he screamed, “Okay, we’re not engaged!”

The server cupped Darcy’s fingers and lifted her hand to examine the diamond. She exhaled and squeezed her fingers. “I swear it’s something a princess would wear.”

Darcy agreed. The ornate-but-not-gaudy, old-but-not-old-fashioned, large-enough-to-dazzle, but small-enough-not-to-overwhelm ring sparkled with clarity and brilliance on her finger. “It was his grandmother’s wedding ring.”

“Oh, how special.” The server released her hand. “Congratulations! You both must be so happy. Please order dessert. It’s on the house.”

He broadened his smile. “We’ll have the chocolate mousse.”

The server grabbed their menus and twirled toward the kitchen with a skip in her step.

“See.” He pointed to the departing server. “Our little game is making other people happy.”

“That’s because we’re perpetuating a myth about the fairytale marriage.” She dismissively waved her hand. “We don’t even know each other well.”

He frowned, scooting closer to the table. “I know you better than you think. Your favorite color is blue. You hate Valentine’s Day but love Easter. You drink coffee, not soda. Your adult beverage of choice is a gin martini with two olives. Two olives so they won’t get lonely—your words, not mine. And you tolerate reading literature with a boring book club because it keeps you busy at nights and occupies your Friday evenings.”

She sighed. “Okay, you know a little bit about me. But I know nothing about you other than you prefer work over everything else.”

Raising his hand, he curled each finger toward his palm to mark off the item as he spoke. “My favorite color is red. I like Thanksgiving, but not Christmas. I don’t have a favorite drink. I have no hobbies. And I am still mad you almost tricked me into joining your book club.”

“That’s not enough.” Darcy raised her eyebrows. He had no signature drink. She assumed he loved gin martinis as much as she did.

“Okay. Let’s get personal.” Victor crossed his arms on the table and bowed his head. “My father died after my thirteenth birthday. My mother, who is Italian, and my paternal grandmother, who is Irish, raised me. She’s the one who left me the ring you’re wearing. I have a sister, but I haven’t seen her since she moved to Texas ten years ago after I handled her divorce. No nieces, nephews, or any children I might have fathered. I had one serious relationship at seventeen, but she wanted to go all the way, and I wanted to remain a virgin.” He tugged his lips into a line. “I practiced Catholicism back then.”

“What do you practice now?”

He shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t believe in anything anymore.”

At the gravity of the statement, she nodded. “That’s how I feel, too. Even if something greater exists, I see no point in believing because I’ll only be disappointed.”

The server delivered their sandwiches. “Enjoy!”

After they finished eating, Victor took Darcy’s hand. “How do you feel now about playing up the engagement a little bit longer?”

She stared at their entwined fingers, braiding comfort and security into her life. Their relationship buoyed her spirits.

While Victor spoon-fed her the sickly sweet chocolate mousse, the other patrons sitting close by stole glances.

Even before marriage, Nathan never spoon-fed her anything. Victor’s romantic tenderness softened her resistance. Keeping up the charade gave her the opportunity to finally be the woman other women envied. If Victor and Darcy broke up, all of the magic would disappear. She would return to being Darcy, a middle-aged divorced woman—not the future Mrs. Madison-Costello, luckiest woman in the world. She squeezed his fingers. “Okay, we’ll keep up the lie just a little bit longer.”

Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed each finger.

Lightning bolts of lust charged through her body.

“This pretending to be engaged is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” he said.

Me too, she thought. Too much fun.

She shuddered. Oh, what will I do when the charade ends?