Page 21 of Fake it For Good
“Which part?” he asked with a soft smile.
“All of it.”
“I’m sorry I came on so strong,” he said with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He was very tall. His dark hair was perfectly cut. I imagined it was one of those styles that cost five-hundred dollars per cut. His entire look was very professional. Very purposeful. His suit fit him like a glove. There wasn’t a speck of lint on it and zero wrinkles. I didn’t know anything about designers, but I had a feeling it was a tailored suit, made especially for his height.
“It’s fine.” I shrugged it off.
“So, we’re going to do this?” he asked.
“If you still want me,” I said.
“I do. I think you’re the one that will best suit this situation.”
“As your fiancée?” I asked.
“If you’re comfortable with it,” he replied.
“I can do it, but I still think we should get to know each other just a little,” I said. “I don’t want to blow the whole scheme because I’m a stranger to you and it will show. I’m not asking to be your best friend but if someone talks to me about you, what am I supposed to say? I don’t know you. You’re just another guy on the street. Our cover will be blown. People will quickly figure out we’re trying to pull a fast one. Then there will be more questions for both of us. I’m not as famous as you are, but I don’t want my reputation smeared. I don’t want people looking and pointing and declaring me a hooker.”
“I understand,” he said. “I don’t want that either.”
I stared at him and waited for him to decide the next move. I wasn’t going to show up somewhere and pretend to be his fiancée when I knew nothing about him. I would look ridiculous. No one was going to believe me. I would be called out and then what? Were we supposed to try and lie, or did we come clean? I would be dubbed a hooker and he would walk away with some laughs and pats on the back for his attempt to pull one over on his friends.
“Now what?” I shrugged.
“I think you’re right,” he said. “We should probably get to know each other somewhat.”
I felt relieved. “Okay. What are you thinking?”
“Can you come to my facility?” he asked.
“Your what?”
“Where the magic happens,” he said. “Our factory is in Brooklyn. Our headquarters is on the Upper East Side, but our factory is in Brooklyn. I split my time between the locations. I think seeing that will help you get to know me.”
“Toys, right?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“I can’t wait,” I replied.
“Thank you for doing this for me,” he said. “I know you’re getting paid, but thanks. I hope I didn’t offend you. We were just really concerned this could blow up in our faces.”
“I understand,” I said. “I have my own concerns.”
“Have I allayed those concerns?” He flashed a boyish smile that made him look much younger than he was. Technically, I didn’t know how old he was. That was something I needed to find out. One would expect a fiancée to know how old her future husband was.
“I think we’ve both taken a big step forward,” I replied.
He extended his hand. “Thank you for meeting with me. Can we go back inside and have dinner?”
I looked behind him. “I have a feeling we’ve lost our table.”
He pointed across the street to a café with a flashing neon light. It was a sharp contrast from the upscale restaurant we had just been in. “I’d like to buy you a burger at least. I think I owe you that much.”
“I’d like that,” I said and took his hand.
The café was more my speed. I didn’t have to worry about napkin placement or trying to read a menu in French. We ordered Cokes and burgers and settled in. “I think we should probably cover some of the basics,” I said.
