“YOU’RE MARRIED!” BROOKE shoved the door to the Rose Petal Boutique closed. She scowled and pointed at the large stain on the front of her cream-colored sweater. “Nichole, you owe me a new sweater, too, besides an explanation.”
Her friend’s accusations jarred Nichole into fully alert mode better than a triple espresso shot. Nichole stumbled beside Josie and spun around to face Brooke. She stammered, “Wh-what?”
“We’re clearly late for more than the photo shoot this morning.” Josie clutched Nichole’s hand and tugged her toward the back of the bridal salon. “Brooke! Get back here. We’ll have to walk and talk.”
“Does no one want to know how this all happened?” Outrage shifted through Brooke’s voice.
“No time.” Josie pulled Nichole past the vintage couch reserved for the bride’s family and friends, plowing toward the dressing room. “Mia is waiting for us at the cathedral and we’re already late.”
“But it’s all over the news.” Brooke rushed after them.
Nichole swiped several chocolates from the candy dish on the side table. No public announcement. We’ll only tell the people we need to. The internet hadn’t been included in the need to know category. Chase had promised. A dull ache pounded behind Nichole’s eyes. She fumbled with a candy wrapper. “It can’t be.”
“Too late for that now.” Josie picked up the candy bowl and thrust it at Brooke, then grimaced at Nichole. “You need clean hands.”
“Desperate times.” Nichole unwrapped two candies, popped them in her mouth and offered Josie a regretful shrug.
Brooke stomped a foot like a frustrated five-year-old. “I dropped Wesley and Ben off at school this morning. We had an excellent sleepover. Dan lost every game we played last night. Then I got my usual coffee. Opened the news on my phone and voilà. Dumped said coffee all over myself.” Brooke pinched her stained sweater away from her stomach. “Then I rushed over here.”
“It’s a good thing too. We need your hands, Brooke.” Josie unwrapped Nichole’s scarf and tossed it on the couch. “We’re getting later by the minute. Mia can only wait so long. She’s doing me a huge favor this morning as it is.”
“As long as I get all the wedding details.” Brooke arched one eyebrow.
Details. Nichole lunged for the candy dish and swiped a handful before Brooke jumped out of reach. Nichole unwrapped several, shoved the chocolates in her mouth and waited for the melting sensation. Something to knock back the dread thumping in her chest.
Josie unzipped Nichole’s hoodie and gaped at her. “You’re wearing a neon pink sports bra. You can’t wear a sports bra under a wedding gown.”
Brooke looked on aghast. “Please, tell me you didn’t wear a sports bra last night to your own wedding!”
Exposed. Nichole added another candy to her mouth. No sensible bride wore a neon pink sports bra. Nothing about last night had been sensible.
“I...uh...” Josie snatched the candy dish from Brooke as if she could no longer be trusted.
“Has no one been listening?” Brooke raised both of her arms over her head. “It’s in the news.”
“Explain while you change, Nichole.” Josie urged Nichole into the dressing room.
Nichole swiped more chocolates on her way past Josie.
“We have to hurry.” Josie motioned. “Hurry.”
Nichole had to hurry and find a cover story. She shoved more candy in her mouth. Now she had to lie to her friends half-dressed in a sports bra.
“Mia is only free for an hour this morning.” Josie scooped the rest of the chocolates from Nichole’s palm, dropped them back into the bowl she set on the bench and pressed a wet wipe into Nichole’s hand. “You’ll have to ditch the bra.”
That was the least of Nichole’s concerns. Nichole shoved four more candies in her mouth.
Josie reached for Nichole’s waist. “Brooke, grab the first gown on the rack.”
“What about her marriage,” Brooke shouted from the workroom.
“Stop yelling at me.” Nichole brushed Josie’s hands away, yanked off her boots and leggings, then launched herself at the candy bowl as if one more bite would mean an escape to candy land. “You guys were encouraging me to find romance. So, I did.”
Josie swept the candy dish out of the dressing room and Nichole’s reach. The designer returned with the entire container of wet wipes. Nichole lifted her hands for Josie’s inspection. Her hands were clean. She couldn’t claim the same about her conscience.
“Overnight?” Brooke carried an exquisite gown into the dressing room. The crystals on the high halter neckline flashed. The beading on the fitted gown shimmered against the ivory silk. Beautiful, intricate hand embroidery covered the entire dress like shared love letters.
Nichole and Chase shared a secret. “You always accuse me of being too predictable.” Her words came out quickly as if she was already in the midst of a full-scale sugar rush. Impossible. “Come on. Get me in the dress already.”
“Who did she marry?” Josie unzipped the back of the wedding dress.
“Chase Jacobs.” Brooke beamed.
Josie gaped. “The Pioneers’ quarterback.”
“It’s not that improbable,” Nichole shot back, wished for another chocolate to stall her next words and stepped into the gown. She had said “I do” to a business arrangement. A fake marriage agreement. Her heart raced.
“Of course not.” Josie guided the beaded and crystal straps over each of Nichole’s shoulders, then looked at Nichole. Regret in her small smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just you’re you and he’s him.”
“I’m quiet, dull and averse to risk.” The chocolate had completely dissolved in Nichole’s mouth. Her voice sounded dehydrated as if she’d chewed on desert sand. “He’s charismatic, handsome, adventurous and a favorite in the press.”
“You’re accomplished, intelligent and beautiful.” Josie fastened the clasps for the high neck and adjusted the crystal straps across Nichole’s bare back. “And the absolute best single mom I know.”
Nichole met Josie’s gaze. Deception nauseated her. Shouldn’t her friends notice her pale skin? Damp palms? Certainly, they recognized she lacked the blissful spirit of a new bride. “Thanks.”
“And Chase Jacobs is...” Brooke’s voice trailed off.
“My husband.” Her marriage was a fraud. A small misspoken phrase had turned into something that now entailed consequences. Consequences she’d face later. “What can I say? Opposites attract.”
“So, we all must keep walking and talking. This conversation is too good to stop now.” Josie wrapped a plush shawl around Nichole’s shoulders and handed her a pair of fur-lined white boots. “Put these on.”
Nichole shoved her bare feet into her fleece-lined boots, searching for warmth and balance. “How do I look?”
“You look amazing.” Brooke turned Nichole to face the mirror. “Just like a bride.”
She recognized the woman in the mirror from her youth when she’d envisioned being a bride gliding toward her once-in-a-lifetime love. She’d never imagined a gown quite so enchanting, as if she’d stepped into her own fairy tale. Nichole’s breath caught. She hadn’t lost her breath ever. Not until last night when Chase had kissed her breathless.
“You look better than any professional model ever would.” Josie hugged Nichole. It was the kind of hug shared between two close friends. The kind of hug that only made Nichole’s deception cut deeper. Josie added, “Now it’s time to go. Walk fast, talk faster and don’t leave anything out.”
The truth supposedly set people free. Or ruined dreams. Nichole exhaled around the guilt and spilled what she could. “Chase and I went to high school together. We reconnected last night.”
Brooke set Nichole’s phone in her hand and tugged Nichole off the platform.
Josie handed several garment bags to Brooke, added two pairs of strappy heels to a tote bag with her supplies. “Before or after your business dinner?”
“Before.” Nichole hurried toward the entrance. “He stayed through dinner and we celebrated afterward.”
“All the way to the altar in...” Brooke stepped outside to prop open the door with her foot.
“Reno,” Nichole blurted. “At the Hearts Forever Chapel.”
“What about flowers?” Brooke asked.
“Mia has a bouquet for Nichole.” Josie locked the door. “But what did you carry last night?”
“I had Chase’s hand to hold. That was enough.” The chocolate clumped together in her stomach. “Besides, the chapel provided a lovely rose bouquet.”
“That you brought home to preserve.” Josie pointed through the boutique window at the display on her wall. The one showcasing a collection of preserved bouquets in resin paperweights and heart frames, handcrafted by a local artist.
“Of course.” The lies backed up in Nichole’s throat, quickly working to outnumber the chocolates she’d consumed. “That’s what all good brides do.”
“Good brides tell their friends they’re getting married,” Brooke challenged. “Ask their friends to serve as witnesses.”
“It all happened so fast.” Nichole clenched her phone and adjusted her shawl. “A conversation. A kiss. A wedding.”
Brooke brushed her fingers across the back of Nichole’s hand. “Where’s your ring?”
“Did you miss the part about it happening fast?” Nichole searched the crosswalk for potholes. For more stumbling opportunities. The only fracture was in her rationale for a fake marriage. “There wasn’t time to even pick one out.”
“Maybe he’ll surprise you with one.” A sigh wove into Josie’s voice as if she bought into the make-believe romance.
Not likely. Chase had already been surprised enough after her outburst last night.
Three blocks later, Brooke hurried through the park gates and hollered to Mia. “I confirmed it. It’s her.”
Mia lowered her camera, cheered and pointed at the cathedral. “I’ll get the details later. Take Nichole up to the top of the cathedral stairs.”
“Confirmed what?” Nichole hiked up the dress and lengthened her steps on the wide staircase.
“That you were the one in the photograph on the internet.” Brooke matched her pace. “I showed the picture to Mia on my way to the boutique.”
“What photograph?” No one at the table had taken any pictures. But the staff could have. Consequences. Nichole had to accept those. Make her choices work in her favor, not against her.
“The one of you sitting on Chase Jacobs’s lap.” Delight filled Brooke’s voice. “I couldn’t believe the headline and then I saw that hot kiss you two shared.”
Everything scrambled inside Nichole’s brain like a multiple car pileup on the fog-covered interstate. Logic became lost.
“That kiss was...” Surprising. Nice. More than nice. Nichole stopped at the top of the stairs. It was a kiss shared between a couple. Or even a bride and groom. Nichole declared a chocolate hiatus.
“The press only called you Chase Jacobs’s new wife.” Brooke helped Josie pin a cathedral-length veil in Nichole’s hair.
“What?” Nichole could’ve denied it was her this whole time.
“It’s not the clearest picture.” Brooke picked up her phone and tapped on the screen. Josie peered over her shoulder.
Nichole shook her head and grabbed her own phone. She typed a text to Chase in all capital letters: CHECK THE NEWS. NOW. She hit Send. She glanced at her friends. “How did you know it was me?”
“We helped you pick that outfit.” Brooke high-fived Josie, rambling about everything being meant to be.
Nothing but potential disaster felt meant to be to Nichole. She had to come clean to her friends. To Fund Infusion. Find another way to help Chase.
Nichole’s phone lit up, signaling a text. She read Chase’s recent reply: What about the news?
Do you check the news?
Not until after my workout, breakfast and physical therapy. Maybe after lunch. Sometimes not at all.
Now his replies came in real time as if she’d finally garnered his full attention. Nichole typed: Why not?
It’s depressing.
Make an exception. Then text me back.
“Now you get to kiss Chase whenever you want.” Brooke lifted her eyebrows up and down.
Did Nichole want to kiss Chase again? Maybe. That sugar rush spiked through her blood. Yes. She did. But one kiss led to another and another. Then hearts cartwheeled around chests, and emotions like stardust were sprinkled over the clouds. And she’d start to believe she walked on those clouds. But hearts broke, and those pieces had to fall to the ground sometime. “I have to concentrate on closing my business deal.”
“What’s more fun than mixing business and pleasure?” Brooke helped Josie drape the long veil down the staircase.
But Brooke was in love with Dan Sawyer—the soul-consuming, forever kind of love. Josie and Brooke had misinterpreted Chase and Nichole’s kiss. The fallout from being so in love was misreading other situations. The lovestruck saw love in everything, even a spur-of-the-moment kiss. Besides, Nichole had added a dose of deception too. And that was never a good thing.
Nichole glared at her phone and Chase’s response:
You can’t boss me around. We’re not really married.
She replied. Once again in all caps:
THAT’S NOT WHAT THE PRESS CLAIMS.
“Nichole, you’re beautiful.” Mia hurried toward Nichole. The smile on her face matched the delight in her voice. She handed Nichole a tall bouquet of calla lilies in white and deep purple. “It’s as if Josie created this gown specifically for you.”
Josie touched the tip of a lily. “It’s better than I could’ve imagined.”
“You’re like a real bride, Nichole.” Brooke sighed into her hands. “How does it feel?”
Head-spinning. Dizzying. Nauseating. “Thrilling,” she said. She’d disappoint her friends soon. But not now. “Let’s get started.”
“Give me a minute to get my equipment set, then put your phone away.” Mia skipped down the stairs. Josie and Brooke moved to the side.
Nichole checked her phone and curled her toes in her boots. Chase had watched the news. He’d sent six texts with different versions of call me. The last one:
Why aren’t you calling me?
Nichole grinned.
You’re too bossy.
This is serious.
Yes. And you need to fix it.
Call me. Please.
Can’t right now. I’m in a photo shoot.
What? Never mind. Where are you?
Nichole sent Chase the address, clutched the bouquet and tossed her phone to Brooke.
One round of photographs finished, Nichole waited on the cathedral steps for Josie. She’d gone inside to ask if they could use the restroom for Nichole to change into the next gown. Brooke stood beside Mia and looked over the photographs on Mia’s camera. Morning yoga attendees and several dog walkers paused to admire Nichole and her wedding attire. Several spoke to Mia and asked for Josie’s business card.
A movement near the side entry of the church caught her attention. Chase rounded the corner, holding his phone, wearing a crisp, well-tailored suit. He spotted her and his mouth dropped open. His steps picked up until he stood within bouquet-tossing distance.
“You look stunning.” His appreciative gaze drifted from her head to her feet and back up again.
Stunning. No one had ever called Nichole stunning. Would Chase tell his real bride-to-be she was stunning? With the same awed wonder in his gaze? The same admiration in his voice? She’d never felt stunning until right now with Chase. She wanted to believe him. But so much was already pretend. And Chase excelled at the charade.
Nichole eyed him.
“Don’t you think you’re taking this fake marriage a bit too far?” he quipped, obviously amused. He tilted his head and propped his usual grin back into place.
Nichole pulled back. His grin blocked people out, including her. “It’s for Josie. She owns the Rose Petal Boutique. Her model... Never mind.” Nichole held out her hand, the one holding the calla lily bouquet, for Chase to help her up the stairs. She wanted to confront him eye to eye.
He tugged a little harder than necessary. Nichole swayed on her borrowed heels. The momentum carried her into Chase. She pressed her other palm against his lapel, stopping full body contact. Her heart collided against her ribs. But a worse wreck, like heartbreak, waited ahead if she started to believe her own press. “Why are you in a suit?”
His grin never slipped. “I have a photo shoot for the city’s athlete of the year award.”
“Congratulations. You look good.” Handsome even. Nichole curved her fingers into the soft wool fabric. “We have to come clean. Admit we aren’t married.”
“The media got the marriage piece, but not your identity.” Chase covered her hand with his, drawing her gaze to his face. “We have time.”
“Time for what?”
His grip tightened around her fingers. “Time to tell our families.”
“You mean tell them the truth.” Nichole clenched his hand to ensure he heard her. “That this is all one big mistake. A hoax.”
Chase accepted her grip yet never tapped out. “We tell them we’re married like we agreed last night.”
“That was before the media blitz.” Nichole smoothed her voice into patient and reasonable, the same tone she’d used to negotiate with her preteen son. “They’ll figure out who I am. It’s the right thing to do.”
Nichole tried to adjust her grip on Chase’s other hand. The bouquet interfered. The tall flowers reached between them as if growing from their joined hands.
Chase rubbed his chin. His gaze drifted over Nichole again, intense and mysterious.
She’d never trusted mysterious. Mysterious allowed for too many possible theories. Too many different assumptions. Too many opportunities to get hurt. She’d been drawn in by an enigmatic man once before and believed she’d known him. She had a broken heart to prove how completely wrong she’d been.
“You can’t see your face in that photo.” He reached up and pushed the veil over her shoulder.
His fingers never connected with her skin. His caress never fell against her arm. Still her breath caught and held as if waiting. Waiting for his touch and the warmth she knew would be there. A swarm of butterflies collided in her stomach as if lost. An insistent whisper of what if echoed inside her. “You seriously want to keep up this farce?”
“I got you something.” Chase reached into his pocket, pulled out a ring.
Not any simple ring either. Sparkling diamonds filled the platinum band that swirled like a halo around a large brilliant center diamond. The ring was vintage, stylish and flawless.
The sigh from her heart skimmed over her. That butterfly swarm flapped its collective wings. Her voice shook. “Now who’s taking this fake marriage thing a little too far?”
Chase slipped the elegant ring over her finger. “Now everything looks real.”
Nichole pressed her hand below her ribs, silencing those artificial butterflies. Today was make-believe. Just as her childhood dreams had proven to be nothing more than fantasies. Her gaze fixed on the ring. “It’s gorgeous. Exactly what I would’ve wanted.”
“Then it’s perfect.” Chase took out his phone, stared at the screen, then lifted his hand in a fist pump. “The coaching staff just congratulated me. With heart and happy face emojis. Everything is working.”
Nichole’s debate skills were not working. “We have to tell our families.”
“I’ll talk to my grandmother after the photo shoot.” Chase checked the time on his fitness tracker and frowned. “Timing is going to be tight. I’ll get takeout for her.”
This wasn’t a lunch date with his grandmother to catch her up on the good things in his life. It was a conversation where he fully intended to deceive his own family. He couldn’t possibly have an appetite. Surely, he’d choke on his lunch and his own dishonesty.
The idea of calling her own grandparents nauseated Nichole. Thankfully, her grandparents relegated their TV watching to game shows and DIY series. They’d even canceled the newspaper, claiming it had gotten smaller than a forgotten diary. But her grandparents had neighbors and friends, ones overly involved in worldwide gossip. The story would find its way to her grandparents’ porch soon enough. Nichole had to finish this photo shoot, change and phone her grandparents.
“I have car pool duty today.” She bit into her lip and failed to discourage her headache from thumping. “I have to tell Wesley.”
“I’m free all afternoon.” Chase glanced up and smiled. “I can go with you to pick him up.”
“We need a story,” she said. “Details. Everyone wants the details.”
“Those have to wait for our drive to Wesley’s school.” Chase tapped his watch. “I have to get to the photo shoot.”
“But you don’t know what I’ve already said.” This was all wrong. Nichole’s phone vibrated on the stone wall she’d set it on. She picked it up and glanced at the screen. Joy swept through her and crashed into a wave of dread. “Vick and Glenn returned the signed NDA. They want to schedule a dinner with us to discuss the next steps as soon as possible.”
“See.” Chase caught her, swept her off her feet and swung her around. “We can’t confess now.”