Chapter Two

 

Luca

 

Greg narrowed his eyes and stuck the tip of his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated hard on the task in front of him. He moved his hand back and forth a few times in practice before finally releasing the dart toward the board. I tried not to choke on the beer I was drinking as he let out a stream of creative obscenities and stomped back to the table.

"I swear to god that board is rigged," he said.

"With some sort of magnetic diversionary system to make it impossible for you to win at darts?" I asked.

"I wouldn't put it past them," he said, dropping down into the chair across the table from me and reaching for his own beer. "People get frustrated when they lose over and over again. Frustrated people drink."

"And drunk frustrated people do things that end up inspiring public service announcements," I said.

I stood up and took another swig of my beer – the one only I would allow myself for the evening. Setting the mug back on the table, I picked up one of the darts and headed over to where Greg had been standing. I took aim and released the dart. Greg's explosion of exasperation made me laugh as I walked back to the table. He stalked over to the board, which was now surrounded by the scattered darts he had managed to throw into the wall rather than the board and yanked my dart out of the center of the bullseye.

"I'm going to call you fucking Robin Hood from now on."

"Nah," I said. "Not until I get one dart stuck in the middle of the other."

Greg pulled a few more darts out and walked back to the throwing point. He launched them, throwing up his arms in victory when one stuck on the very edge of the board. I applauded slowly as he came back to the table and sat down. He was grinning much wider than the situation warranted but I decided to let him have his moment. After all, this was a man whose personal triumph was barely managing to land one dart on the dartboard. He sipped his beer and crunched his way through a few of the nachos that sat in the middle of the table. He then made it sound as if he had remembered something he wanted to tell me.

"Speaking of public service," he said, "my sister asked me for what might be the most ridiculous favor I have ever heard in my life."

"What was that?" I asked.

I didn't know Greg's sister Terri, but I had heard enough about her to know the two of them had always been close. They had to be. I was an only child, but I couldn't really imagine that many adult siblings were willing to move back in together for several months at a time. Especially when one of them was married.

"Apparently she has a friend at work who is maid of honor in her best friend's wedding and needs a date."

"And she volunteered you to do it?"

"Yep," he said.

"That doesn't really sound like that ridiculous of a favor," I said. "Don't a lot of people get hooked up on blind dates for weddings?"

"Not for a week," he said.

"A week?" I asked. "The wedding is a week long?"

"Apparently it is a destination wedding at some tiny little beach resort in the middle of nowhere, and the bride has planned a ton of pre-wedding parties and activities and stuff."

"Not really the middle."

"What do you mean?"

"You said that it's a beach resort. So, it's not really in the middle of nowhere. Kind of on the edge."

Greg stared at me blankly.

"Yes, Luca. The edge of nowhere. Because that doesn't sound like a terrible emo band at all." I shrugged, and he continued. "Anyway. So, this girl is having a destination wedding at some little beach resort and has planned a whole week of activities, so Terri thought that I would be the perfect date for the maid of honor."

"Why does she need a date so badly?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," Greg said. "She didn't really get into it. She just told me that Roxie really needed a date and is running out of time and she thinks I would be the perfect candidate."

"Roxie?" I asked. "That's a pretty sexy name."

"She's pretty cute, too," Greg said.

"You've met her?" I asked.

"No, Terri sent me a picture of her. I think it might have been an attempt at a luring tactic."

"Let me see."

Greg pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened a message from his sister. He handed the phone to me and I looked at a picture of a curvy blonde woman sitting in an office. It seemed to have been taken from a distance through the glass front wall of the office, and she wasn't looking at the camera at all. It looked like a clandestine snap taken by Terri to show off the goods she was trying to peddle to her brother. Despite the unflattering angle and lack of engagement from the subject, I could tell that Roxie was a sexy woman. This entire situation was unlike anything I’d experienced before. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I kind of liked what I was seeing. I handed the phone back to Greg.

"Are you going to do it?" I asked.

" I don't think so," he said. "I mean, I definitely thought about it, but I don't know."

"Seriously?" I asked with a laugh. "You actually thought about it?"

"What's so funny about that?" he asked.

"You seriously considered going on a week-long blind date with a total stranger to a destination resort wedding where you won’t be able to escape? It is definitely a ridiculous favor for your sister to ask, but it's even more ridiculous you thought it was a good idea."

"The girl needs a date," Greg said. "And you know how girls act at weddings. Besides, you saw her. Who wouldn't want to share a little cabin with her for a week? But at the same time, there are only a few things I can think of that would be more awkward than pretending to be the boyfriend of a total stranger... at a wedding... for her best friend... with her entire family... for an entire week. I don't think I can do it."

I took the last sip of my beer, licked the foam off my lips, and set my glass down emphatically. I looked around the room until my eyes fell on a woman sitting at the corner of the bar by herself. Her hair was immaculately styled, her spiked heels were almost longer than her dress, and she wore enough makeup on her face for several nights out all at once. I gestured toward her.

"I'll make a bet with you," I said. "Go on over there and talk to that woman. If you can get her to come over here with you and beat her at darts, I'll go with Roxie to the wedding. If you can't, you have to go."

"I don't really think that's a fair bet," he said. "I've only managed to get one dart on the board all night."

"And all you have to do is get one dart on the board again and make sure that she doesn't. I mean, honestly, does she look like someone who spends a whole lot of time practicing darts? The biggest challenge you're facing right now is getting her to talk to you, much less getting her over here."

Just as expected, Greg immediately looked defensive. He stood and squared his shoulders and marched directly over to the bar. I chuckled as I watched him lean against the corner and try to engage the compelling-looking woman in conversation. For a few seconds, she completely ignored him, as if she didn't even realize he was standing there. To be fair, she was so accustomed to men drifting into her gravitational pull that it was very likely she didn't even notice that Greg was sitting there. Finally, though, she looked up at him and they exchanged a few words. Her face contorted slightly, and I knew he must have made one of his signature terrible jokes he thought was a witty pickup line. He gestured over his shoulder and she looked at me. I waved and saw her eyes light up. She nodded and offered a hand tipped with deadly-looking red nails, so Greg could help her down from the barstool. She did it with tremendous grace, seamlessly managing a maneuver that would leave most women with their unmentionables not only exposed but blasted all over social media within twelve seconds of their descent.

They made their way over to the table and I made sure to make eye contact with her. She didn't say anything but took her place at the line. She picked up a dart and tossed it toward the board. Just as I expected it would, the dart missed the board by several inches and pierced through an advertisement for the bars upcoming open mic night. She gave a pouting face and stepped aside for Greg to take his turn. I withheld my laughter by eating room temperature nachos as they went back and forth in what might have been the most dismal game of darts ever played. I wasn't entirely sure which one of them was losing, but then the woman picked up a dart and tossed it. It ended up on the very edge of the board and Greg got a determined look on his face. He picked up the last dart. She tapped her cheek with one fingertip and turned it toward Greg for a kiss. He gave me a smug look and then compiled. His lips had no more left her cheek when she grabbed his hand and directed it to throw the dart directly into the bullseye. It very well might have gone into the exact same hole left by my dart from earlier.

Greg's jaw dropped, and I glared at both of them.

"Oh, darn," she purred in a mocking tone. "I think that means you won."

I stood up sharply.

"Hey!" I said, half-laughing, half-frustrated. "I thought you would be on my side!"

"What?" Greg snapped, looking at me. "What do you mean you thought she was on your side?"

"Greg, meet Skye, a very dear, old friend of mine."

Skye sashayed toward me and hugged me.

"Watch it with all that old stuff. Someone's going to hear you."

"Doesn't matter. No one cares how old you are. You look amazing."

She sighed dramatically.

"I remember the days when they did because they didn't want to end up in jail."

I laughed and gave her a playful nudge. We both looked at Greg, who was staring at us open-mouthed.

"What?" he snapped again.

"I saw Skye sitting there and thought I'd have a little fun with you. She is not only notoriously dismissive toward men trying to get her attention…"

"Mostly because I like women," she added.

"Despite what her nails might tell you, yes. But she is also one of the best dart throwers I have ever known."

"Mostly because I taught him how to play."

"Also, yes. I figured that you'd tell her about the bet and she'd come over here and wipe the floor with you, not throw the darts all over the place and then help you win."

Skye shrugged.

"What can I say? I went rogue. You should never have turned a girl into a bet. Not cool. Besides, I think that doing something nice for someone would be good for you."

"I do nice things for people all the time," I protested.

"That's debatable, darling." She kissed my cheek. "But you are wonderful. And gorgeous. And sexy if you are into that whole man thing. You will be a fantastic date for her."

"I don't think I should be held to those terms," I said. "There was interference."

"Oh, but you will," Skye said. "I know you will. You can't resist an adventure."

She waved at Greg and made her way back to the bar where another woman had slid onto the stool beside where Skye had been sitting. I looked at Greg, who was staring at them. His eyes snapped over to me.

"What the hell just happened?"

I clapped him on the back.

"You just won our bet. I'll be taking Roxie to the wedding."

Skye wasn't right when she said I never did anything nice for other people. She, like everyone else around me, just didn't know about the things I did. I wanted it that way. Nobody but the people I benefitted needed to know about the money I gave to charity, and even they didn't know my name. My friends didn't need to know about the millions that flowed from my bank accounts to the various causes and organizations that I chose, or the billions that were still there, just waiting for me to use them. I set it up like that. I preferred it that way. My friends knew that I was comfortable. The closest ones knew I didn't have to work, but never inquired any further than that. I was pretty sure they could tell I wasn't interested in talking about it. There was a reason I distanced myself from the rest of my family by using my mother’s maiden name rather than my father’s. I maintained a close relationship with them, but I went to great lengths to not be associated with them. I didn't want people to know about my family's immense wealth. If I was going to have them in my life, I wanted it to be because of their perception of me and not because of my money.

But she was right about something else. I could never resist an adventure. Much of that was a result of my ample free time. I had never married, and my longest relationship ended years back. When I wasn't volunteering or confidentially serving on the boards of organizations I supported, my time was my own. That meant I had plenty of opportunities to go out and find things to amuse me. Opportunity and boredom. That was the one that got me the most often. I could do anything. I could go anywhere, yet I always felt like I was searching for something. That search often found me doing ridiculous things and latching on to whatever adventure came my way.

And, right now, that adventure was Roxie.

Roxie

 

"How long have we been together?"

I looked at the text on my screen in confusion. I didn't recognize the number and the message didn’t give me any enlightening information.

"Excuse me?"

"Are we serious? Do we see a future together or is this just a fling?"

"What?"

"Do we hold hands or is your family the non-touching type?"

I looked around the wooded park, half-expecting Thea to hop out from behind a fountain and laugh at me, possibly even recording footage of her prank to include in a torture reel for her reception. But the park remained persistently unaware of my existence, the other visitors strolling past without even noticing me sitting on the bench clutching my phone in one hand and a half-eaten soft pretzel in the other. For the first time in my life, I was glad my best friend wasn't there. No one needs to see the maid of honor with her mouth stuffed with pretzel.

"Do I know you?"

"This is Luca."

Luca? That didn't sound right. I couldn't remember what Terri had told me her brother's name was, but that didn't sound right. I felt I would remember someone with a name like that.

"Luca?"

"Your date for the wedding."

The next message looked like a hastily-taken selfie, but even the bad angle and strange lighting couldn't conceal that this man was hot as hell. And looked absolutely nothing like Terri, a point that I quickly reiterated to him.

"You don't look like you could be Terri's brother."

"That's because I'm not."

"You're not? I thought that he was supposed to be my date."

"Greg did intend to be your date, but regretfully, something else came up. So, I am stepping into his place. I hope you don't mind."

Did I mind? I didn't even know. I had finally wrapped my head around the idea of faking my way through the wedding week with Terri's brother. At least he would have the advantage of learning everything she knew about me. Which was a lot. As the first person I met when I arrived for my first day at work and my de facto closest friend in my new home, Terri had been the recipient of plenty of long late-night conversations when I was feeling homesick. I had steered clear of talking about Brad up until the recent revelation, preferring to leave that particular piece of humiliation as far in my past as possible. But she still knew enough details about me and my life to at least create a foundation on which Greg and I could hopefully build a convincing fake relationship.

This man was a total wild card. He obviously knew Terri tangentially, but that wasn't really enough. At the same time, I was rapidly running out of time to find a date for the wedding, so I couldn't really be picky.

"OK then. We've been together for a year. We had been keeping it pretty casual, but over the last few months, it's gotten much more serious."

"Do we live together?"

"No." Wait. Do we? I considered the option, then shook my head at myself. "No."

"Where did we meet?"

"I don't really think that matters. We need to know about each other."

"Don't you think people are going to ask?"

"I have never been asked where I met the men I've dated."

Of course, every man I've ever dated came from the same tiny town, so everybody already knew where I'd met them.

"Have you dated many men?"

Oh, shit. Did I type that rather than just think it? I scrolled back up in the conversation to make sure and was relieved to see that I hadn't. This man was just nosy. Of course, that was kind of the point.

"Enough."

That didn't mean that I needed to get into the nitty-gritty details of my love life. Or lack thereof.

"So, what should I know about you? What's your favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Ice cream?"

"If we’ve been keeping our relationship casual, that means we've probably been meeting up for laid-back dates rather than anything fancy. So, we've probably gone out for ice cream. Haven't you ever seen a movie?"

"That's actually pretty insightful. Mint chocolate chip."

"Green or white?"

"What?"

"Green or white? Mint chocolate chip ice cream. Do you like the green or white? That's a detail a boyfriend would know."

"You're right. It is very divisive. Green."

"As unnatural as possible. I like your style."

"And you? What flavor of ice cream do you like?"

"Vanilla."

"So, you're boring. Got it."

"Vanilla isn't boring."

"Actually, I think that it is so boring it is used in place of the word boring."

"It's only boring if you want it to be. It's just like life. You can choose to be bored, or you can add sprinkles and hot fudge and maybe a chocolate chip cookie."

"Now you've left ice cream territory. You are on to full-fledged desserts."

"Too fast for you? Alright. We'll slow things down. Next question is yours."

"OK. I'll get back to you."

I closed out of the message and shoved my phone back into my purse. I didn't know why I had ended the conversation so abruptly. There was so little time to make it seem like we knew each other. But the exchange had taken me by surprise. Even as I got up to walk back out of the park and head home, my heart was fluttering slightly in my chest.