A Pretend Proposal: The Fiancée Fiasco / Faking It to Making It / The Wedding Must Go On

“There’s no ‘uh-oh,’ Mel. There can be no ‘uh-oh.’ Thomas is a nice guy, and he’s very likeable.”

“Don’t forget hot,” Mel inserted on a wink.

“No need to remind me on that score.” But now that she had, Elizabeth’s internal thermostat was working its way into the red. “The man sure knows how to kiss. But we’re not dating.”

She said the last part a little too emphatically. Mel’s eyes narrowed. “I gather you’re having a bit of trouble remembering that.”

“Guilty as charged. I wasn’t expecting—”

“Fireworks,” Mel finished.

Oh, yeah. And a dizzying display, no less. But since mention of their sexual chemistry was too damning to dwell on, Elizabeth said, “Actually, I wasn’t expecting us to have much, if anything, in common.”

“But you do.”

“We both like Hitchcock movies and spicy Chinese.” She chuckled at the memory of Thomas fumbling his food during dinner. “Even if he can’t use chopsticks to save his life.” Her grin was short-lived. “God, Mel. He’s exactly the kind of man a smart woman steers clear of.”

“But you have common interests, and I thought you just said he was nice and likeable and hot?”

“We do and he’s nice and likeable and hot, all right. He’s also smart and sexy, and … from what I can tell, the flattering adjectives are practically endless where Thomas is concerned.” She grabbed Mel’s arm. “Did I tell you about his manners? He pulls out chairs, opens doors. He even apologizes when he swears, not that he makes a habit of it.”

“Apologizing?”

“Swearing.” She let go of her friend’s arm.

Mel shook her head. “I’m sorry, hon. I’m not seeing the problem here. You obviously like him. I know you like the way he kisses. And he likes you.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath.

“No, Mel. Thomas needs me. That’s one of the big red flags waving madly here. This is business.”

The corners of Mel’s mouth turned down in dismissal and she shook her head. “I’m not buying that. He likes you, and as more than a pal,” her friend insisted again. “You’ve already agreed to spend some time with him acting like a happy couple. So what if a little pleasure is starting to slip into your business arrangement? What will it hurt? For that matter, who knows where it will lead?”

“I know where it will lead. Nowhere.”

But Mel shook her head again. “You are one of the smartest, most self-assured women I’ve ever met when you’re dealing in a professional capacity. But you don’t give yourself enough credit where men are concerned. He may just fall gorgeous head over pricey wing tips for you, for real.”

No wonky pulse now. Instead, Elizabeth’s stomach took a roller-coaster-worthy plunge. Is that what she wanted to happen? She wasn’t sure. They didn’t know one another well enough. Yet. Even if everything she knew about him so far, she liked. Except … “He’s anti-commitment,” she told Mel.

“Come on. Did he actually say that?”

“Yep.” Elizabeth nodded. “He made it clear in no uncertain terms when we had dinner the first night that he has no plans to settle down. Ever.”

“All men say that.”

“No. He means it.” Her heart squeezed as she relayed what Thomas had told her the previous night about his parents, the horrifying car accident that had claimed his mother and his father’s subsequent alcoholism. “He thinks of love as a disease, a chronic one is how he phrased it.”

Mel nibbled the inside of her cheek, uncharacteristically quiet. At last she said, “In his defense, he had a tough break. He was a kid when the accident happened and so it was easy for him to see love as the reason his father is the way he is. But that doesn’t make it so. His father suffers from a disease all right. Alcoholism. That’s why he basically abandoned his son. The accident might have been the trigger, but.” She lifted her shoulders. “The poor guy. It’s no wonder he turned out so gun-shy.”

“I know.” Elizabeth sighed again. “I wish he could be just a jerk, though. You know?”

“Yeah. A garden variety misogynist would make your situation less complicated,” Mel agreed. “You could always tell him that you’ve reconsidered your bargain and want out. We can find another way to make Literacy Liaisons’s endowment a reality.”

“I’ve thought about that, but I’ve committed myself.” Ironic laughter followed her statement. “At least one of us is capable of doing so.”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Elizabeth hesitated only a moment. “I’m sure. It’s only for a matter of days. This time next week, Thomas and I will have gone our separate ways.”

Yet that thought brought precious little in the way of comfort, a fact Elizabeth tried to ignore.

“Well, at least your eyes are wide open,” Mel said.

“Yep. Wide open. There’s no changing someone who doesn’t want to change. You can push and prod and you just wind up shoving them further away.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. I like Thomas, and I’m definitely attracted to him, but it’s not as if I’m in love with him or anything,” she hastened to assure them both. “Right now, I’ve got paperwork to catch up on.” She swiveled in her seat and began typing her password as Mel started for the door.

“Elizabeth?”

“Hmm.” She glanced up from her computer screen in time to catch Mel’s worried frown.

“Your eyes, I know you said they’re wide open, but prop them that way with toothpicks, ‘kay?”

In lieu of toothpicks, Elizabeth got down to business. Personal business. There would be no meandering conversation during dinner tonight, she decided. That was too much like what occurred on real dates. Nope. She would treat this like a job interview even though, technically, she’d already been hired. She created a file and made a list of questions she needed answered. Then she spent the next fifteen minutes ruminating over what more to tell him about herself.

She decided to break the information down into likes and dislikes. Since he already knew her preferences when it came to movie genres, directors and actors, she started with music, moved on to authors and completed the entertainment category with board games, adding in the dislike category her disdain for the computer variety.

From there she moved on to her basic values, causes beyond literacy that she supported and a very brief sketch of her education, since he already knew she’d attended State. She considered attaching her high school and college transcripts, but that seemed overkill.

As for her childhood, Thomas had met Howie and she knew that as a child he’d owned a cockatiel named Hitchcock. She jotted down the names of the guinea pig, flop-eared rabbit and pair of very long-lived goldfish she’d had while growing up.

When it came to her parents, she filled in their vital stats, leaving out their lack of a marriage certificate and their other free-spirited oddities. As for her brother, she touched on Ross only briefly, in part because she knew so little about him these days, including his whereabouts.

She swallowed thickly and touched his name on the computer screen. She missed him. As always, she wondered if he ever would decide to come home. Unlike her parents, she did not view her brother’s vagabond lifestyle as freedom even if it was a kind of escape. No, Ross had run away. It didn’t matter that he’d been five months shy of eighteen years old at the time, close enough to adulthood, according to their parents, to make his own choices.

“He’s happy,” Delphine had claimed at the time. “You like school and you were smart enough to get a scholarship. But not everyone’s cut out for book-learning and college, Lizzie.”

Skeet had seconded the opinion. And why not? Their father had gotten by on charm and luck, working odd jobs to raise his family. More often than not he’d been paid under the table. If at times they’d had to live with relatives or crash in friends’ apartments that was okay in his book.

It’s all good. That was Skeet and Delphine’s mantra.

But they weren’t to blame for Ross’s leaving. No that fell squarely on Elizabeth’s shoulders. Where their folks hadn’t been tough enough on Ross, Elizabeth had been unyielding in her nagging after he quit school.

“You’re squandering your life,” she’d raged during that final argument before he’d left home for good. “You’re going to end up penniless, homeless.”

“Mom and Dad have done just fine.”