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Just Pretending: Chapter 9

HARLEIGH

The throbbing in my head would not stop. Bang, bang bang. I tried to roll over and get more comfortable. Maybe if I could fall back asleep the pounding wouldn’t be so loud.

Two things happened in quick succession letting me know the pounding wasn’t only in my head, there was a crashing sound, and I fell off the couch. I was in a tangle of blankets on the floor. The room looked odd, unfamiliar from this angle. Another crash followed by a man cursing, and I started to move. Once I was upright, I realized I had never seen the library from that angle before. I don’t think I had ever slept on the library couch before.

I was in the same clothes that I wore yesterday. More noise came from the back hall and I was very aware that the throbbing in my head was real, but the banging was louder. I pushed out of the room and found the source of the noise. A work crew was walking in and out through the back, bringing in metal poles and setting up scaffolding.

“Hi, Harleigh.”

I turned as Seth greeted me. “Oh, hi.” I had forgotten that I had asked him to come over this morning to help clean up.

“That guy, Devin, told me not to wake you.”

“How long have you been here?” I asked with a yawn.

“A couple of hours. He had me start upstairs since you were asleep. Your father’s wife did all of this damage? Man, she must have been pissed. Her bathroom, wow.” Seth shook his head. “I gave Devin the measurements for the mirror, he said he’d handle getting a new one installed. Do you want me to start working on your father’s room, or should I start down here now that you’re awake?”

I think I wanted to handle my father’s things myself. “If you’re done with Tina’s room and bathroom, why don’t you come down here. There’s more than enough to keep you busy and out of the painters’ way.”

He bobbed his head more than nodded. “Yeah, that paint damage is messed up. She could have at least picked nicer colors.”

I agreed. Even though I was not thrilled with the Victorian décor of the house, I wouldn’t have gone from hand-painted pheasants to neon green.

I found Devin in the kitchen, drinking coffee from a drive-thru coffee shop.

“Morning sleepyhead,” he said with a dazzling smile.

I would consider him attractive if I didn’t think about his attitude toward me. If we didn’t have a history of animosity I could almost think that smile was because he was happy to see me. But I knew better. I glared at him, pretty certain that smile was purely to mock me.

“I brought you a coffee,” he said, nodding at the counter next to him. “I was wondering how long you were going to be able to sleep through all of this.” He gestured as the work crew crossed through and out the back door.

I squinted at the coffee. My tongue felt like cotton. I wasn’t sure if coffee would wash that feeling away, or get absorbed and aggravate my situation. I picked up the cup, still warm, with both hands and took a careful sip.

“Did the power come back on?” I asked and took another sip. The coffee helped to wash away the feeling of having a mouth swollen full of fluff.

“At some point. It was on by the time I got here and found that kid, Seth, waiting for you at the front door. I think he has a crush on you, he was out there for much longer than I would have waited around.”

I shrugged. I couldn’t say. But Seth was a good kid, and I hoped he didn’t have a crush on me. That would be awkward. I winced at the thought as it spiked through my head.

“Too much wine last night?” Devin asked with a smirk.

“Shut up,” I managed to say as I retreated to the butler’s pantry and the stash of medicines that were kept there. I tossed a couple of pills in my mouth and swallowed them down.

“Do you want breakfast?” I asked as I returned to the kitchen. I opened the fridge and examined the contents.

“Don’t you mean lunch? It’s almost noon. You’ve been asleep for a long time.”

Ignoring him, I continued my babbling, “I think eggs would be good, same with the cheese. Cheese doesn’t go bad, does it?”

“I think it has to be growing mold,” Devin said.

“That’s highly desired in some cheeses,” I said, pulling the items out and placing them on the counter.

I waved my hand and had to jump a bit to grab one of the hanging pans. I don’t know how Hannah did it. She wasn’t any taller than I was. A footstool came sliding across the floor out of nowhere.

“That might help,” Devin said.

I glared at him, the help was a little too late to be useful.

I scrambled the remaining eggs from the carton and melted a copious amount of cheese on top.

“What’s the plan then?” I asked after I slid two plates onto the table.

“I had an interesting conversation with the president of the board this morning,” he said before taking a bite. He hummed and lifted his eyebrows. My cooking was a hit. Maybe he would be willing to marry anyway since I could cook.

“Interesting in that he was calling to confirm your father’s instructions, and then ask if I understood what it all meant.”

I laughed. As if we didn’t know what was at stake. “I’m surprised he didn’t call Mr. Sanderson and confirm everything with him,” I said.

“I’m sure he did. But he did tell me he is hosting a little soiree so that we can officially announce our engagement.” He let out a heavy breath.

It was my turn to sigh. We hadn’t officially decided anything yet.

“A bit presumptuous of him?” I asked.

It wasn’t fair to Devin to saddle him with me when I knew he barely tolerated me. And it wouldn’t exactly be fair to me either. I had had a crush on Devin once upon a time. But that was a long time ago before I understood who I was to him, a spoiled pain in the butt. And who he was to my father, the favored one.

“The board wants to have everything in place for the liquidation as soon as possible. I told him we still had time before anything needed to happen. He wants confirmation whether the wedding is happening, or not, well in advance.”

Devin reached out and picked up my hand. I stared at where his skin touched mine. Everything about this situation was so messed up. Parentless, penniless, and now Devin needed answers immediately.

“Okay, let’s do it,” I blurted.

“Harleigh,” he said. “I’m not going to let Smith accelerate the timeline. There is a lot for us to decide. I thought I convinced him to give us a week to make a decision. He agreed to two days,”— he squeezed my hand— “I want you to seriously think about it, and not rush into anything.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Rush into anything? Devin, we have two weeks, the clock is ticking. When is this thing?”

“This weekend.”

I stared at him. That was in two days. Smith wanted an answer regarding our getting married for this party of his. We would have ten days after that to get married. I was running out of time.

“I think we need to agree on a few certain rules,” I said.

“Rules? Like the ones you mentioned last night?”

“Yeah. We will need to keep up the appearance of having some form of a married relationship, but I won’t hold you to pretending you’re in love with me. Nowhere in the will does it say we have to like each other, right? But I don’t want you seeing anyone for the year. It’s going to be hard enough, you know? We have to fake it for a year. Just a year, we can do it,” I said.

“Are you serious about this, Harleigh? I thought you wanted to meet someone and fall in love before you got married. How are you going to feel about your first marriage being a business arrangement?”

I shrugged. “Probably no different than you. It’s a contract that’s all. It will make an interesting story to tell my grandchildren.”

“You’d admit to being married for your inheritance? You wouldn’t sweep it under the carpet and pretend it never happened?”

“Like that’s possible?” I looked at Devin like he was growing an extra head. “There are too many people around making sure that they know we are married. It’s not like we can disappear for a year, and come back no one the wiser.”

“That would be a great way to handle it, but you’re right. Too many people need to confirm we actually get married. We can’t run away. I go to a few high-profile events a year, you would have to accompany me to those. And, agreed, if we get married, neither of us dates or has affairs. We don’t give anyone anything they could use against us. Everything will be in probate until the will is fully executed, and that doesn’t happen until we’ve been married.”

“One year and a day,” I added.

We could do this. I didn’t need any more proof than that. If I married him it would be for the mutual benefit of our inheritances. The threat of my crush reemerging needed to take a flying leap and never bother me again.

His phone rang. He looked at the screen. “I have to take this,” he said as he got up and walked outside.

Devin came back shaking his head.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s as if he was listening in. That was Smith, he wanted to know if we made a decision. I told him we would have an answer by the time we arrived at his party. If nothing else, I figure we need the time to get used to the idea that this is going to happen.”

I looked down at my clothes. I was in my good black dress, and I had slept in it. I didn’t have enough time to send it out to be cleaned, and I couldn’t wear it again. Not to a party, not after I had worn it to the reading of the will and the funeral. The same people would see me in it and rightly assume that I didn’t have anything else to wear.

I hated shopping. Two days was barely enough time to find anything suitable, not in my size. I had classes to teach, and a house to make sure got cleaned with a touch of restoration.


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