Cinderella's Festive Fake Date
Autore
Karin Baine
Letto da
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Capitoli
11
CHAPTER ONE
‘NOPE. NO WAY. Absolutely no chance in hell. N-O!’
Evie didn’t know how else she could say it. There was no way she was going to go home to spend the evening with her stepfamily when she’d done her best to avoid them as much as she could for the past few years.
‘Don’t you go home every year for the annual switching on of the family Christmas lights? I mean, according to you it’s a six-foot plastic tree with some fairy lights strung round it, so I don’t know what the big deal is, but you usually participate.’
Ursula, Evie’s studio assistant, rested her head in her hands, elbows on the workbench, watching her at the pottery wheel.
‘Under duress, and it’s the only time I usually visit. This is different. It’s not just putting on a happy face and gritting my teeth in front of Courtney and Bailey. This is to celebrate their engagement. How am I supposed to get through that without bawling, or finally telling them that they’re two-faced back-stabbing traitors who don’t deserve to have me in their lives?’
The anger she’d been suppressing for too long seemed to work its way through her body and out of her fingertips, until she was strangling the clay vase she’d been lovingly and delicately shaping until then. The clay wobbled and collapsed, leaving her no option but to take her foot off the pedal to stop the wheel and scrap her work. She tossed it into the bucket with the other remnants for recycling later, and it landed with a satisfying wet slap. What she wouldn’t do to toss her stepsister and ex-boyfriend in there along with it.
‘I vote for the second option. It’s been a long time coming. Honestly, I don’t know how you’ve stayed in contact at all. I would’ve flipped my lid by now.’
Ursula lifted a ball of new clay and plonked it in the centre of the wheel for her, though Evie knew it was pointless trying to work now. It would be impossible to concentrate on lovingly creating something beautiful to sell at the potters’ Christmas market coming up when she was so full of pent-up rage.
She wiped her hands on her apron and turned off the wheel. ‘It wouldn’t achieve anything. I’d be accused of being overdramatic and selfish. I’ll just seethe in private.’
If it had been anyone else, she would’ve severed all ties and got on with her own life. To some extent she’d probably done just that, setting up her own studio in the heart of Belfast and focusing on her work. However, Courtney, her stepsister, was the only family she had left, other than her stepmother. With no one else in her life apart from Ursula, and her other, hairier, studio assistant, Dave the golden retriever, abandoning her family didn’t seem like a viable option.
Besides, she’d promised her father on his deathbed to keep their family together, to be tolerant of her stepsister, who, even fifteen years ago, had been a princess, someone incapable of taking anyone’s feelings into account other than her own. Evie’s father had obviously witnessed some of her stepmother’s favouritism towards her own daughter, over the one she’d inherited with her husband. Perhaps he’d hoped it would lessen over the years, that they would grow closer, never imagining that his child would be treated as a lodger, a burden, in the wake of his death.
When she looked at it like that, Evie wondered why she did bother keeping in touch at all. Deep down, she knew it was only because they were the last connection she had to her father, and she had a promise to keep.
None of which would make it any easier to stomach a return to ‘celebrate’ this painful engagement, and reminder of betrayal.
Ursula screwed up her face. ‘It’s not healthy bottling everything up. What you need is closure. Wave them off on their life together, and walk away.’
‘Which is all well and good in theory, but I don’t want to end up a teary, snivelling mess in front of the smug twosome.’
Even thinking about it was making her stomach churn. Her stepmother fawning over the pair, Evie feigning happiness for them, and feeling outnumbered. On her own. As usual.
‘Hmm. If you want, I’ll come with you and give them a piece of my mind.’
The thought of firecracker Ursula letting rip and telling Courtney and Bailey how vile they were for treating her friend so appallingly did cheer Evie up. However, she knew it wasn’t the solution. It would just be seen as spiteful on her part for putting a stranger up to it.
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. Besides, I’m sure you have other, more exciting plans for a December weekend than watching fairy lights on a plastic tree being switched on.’
Her friend was the extrovert Evie wished she could be, who lived to the beat of her own drum and didn’t give a hoot what anyone else thought.
‘Well... I do have a hot date...’
‘Naturally.’
There were very few Saturday nights when Ursula didn’t have plans with a handsome man or, at the very least, a glamorous girls’ weekend away somewhere expensive and indulgent. She was lucky she had Mummy and Daddy to fund that lifestyle, and a bulging little black book full of phone numbers from adoring men who couldn’t seem to get enough of her.
All things elusive to Evie, who’d had to work hard for everything she did have. Although she wasn’t in the market for any kind of relationship after Bailey had broken her heart. These days, the only man in her life was Dave. He wouldn’t leave her for another woman. At least for as long as she kept cooking him sausages.
‘I know! Why don’t you join a dating site? You could take a man with you and stick two fingers up at Bailey and Courtney.’ Ursula began scrolling through her phone. No doubt she was signed up to every dating app going. That was probably why she was never stuck for a date.
Evie, on the other hand, was averse to most modern technologies. She loathed social media in general but was forced to engage, posting content and selling online so her business could survive. Therefore, the idea of soulless dating apps based entirely on a person’s appearance was her idea of hell. If she couldn’t trust someone she’d known for years, basing a relationship on her attractiveness to a person didn’t seem like a positive step forward.
‘I don’t think so. It’ll be awkward enough without taking someone on a first date to witness my humiliation.’ And she didn’t know why she was beginning to talk as though she was actually going to acknowledge this engagement in person...
Undeterred, Ursula thrust her phone in front of Evie’s face, forcing her to look at the list of dating sites and apps available. She was about to bat it away when something caught her eye.
‘Fake date register... What’s that?’ she asked the expert.
Ursula frowned, tapping away at the screen. ‘Exactly what it says. Apparently, you can “engage in a mutually beneficial arrangement with no strings or expectations”. How boring.’
However, Evie’s interest was piqued. ‘So I could get someone to pretend to be my date, and all I’d have to do is be their “show girlfriend” in return? It might be a possibility.’
At least she wouldn’t have to degrade herself by paying someone to do it. If she decided she was desperate enough to go down that route. It would certainly wipe the grins off some faces if she turned up at this engagement with a Bailey replacement, as though what had occurred was of no consequence to her whatsoever, and hadn’t completely turned her world upside down.
She heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter as Ursula snapped a photograph.
‘What are you doing?’ a self-conscious Evie asked, aware that she wasn’t wearing make-up, her hair had been tied up in a very messy bun and she was likely covered in clay as usual.
Ignoring her, Ursula continued tapping on her phone, the odd ping of notifications breaking her silence. Eventually she smiled and held up the screen for Evie to peer at.
‘I’ve set up an account for you.’
‘You’ve done what?’ Evie grabbed the phone off her, staring in horror at the profile picture, every bit as hideous as she’d imagined. ‘I look awful. Who the hell is going to want to date that mess? Besides which, I never agreed to anything. I was simply investigating the possibilities.’
Ursula pouted. ‘I’m only trying to help. And you look adorable. There are several men who seem to agree.’
Before she could wrestle the phone back off Evie she saw for herself that there were some potential ‘fake dates’ in the mix. Perhaps this wasn’t a completely off-the-wall idea after all.
‘What do you mean, I’m unapproachable?’ Jake barked at his sister, Donna, who also doubled up as his business partner. They ran Hanley Film Studios in Belfast’s Titanic Quarter, which had become a thriving area for the television and film industry over the last fourteen years or so.
Although born in England, he’d completed his business degree in Belfast and, after a brief enterprise in London working in television, he’d made the move back to Northern Ireland to capitalise on the opportunities here. Donna had moved over to join him a year later, after her relationship ended and she needed a fresh start.
The petite blonde didn’t look anything like him, and had a completely different disposition—one that had made her the friendly face of the company, rather than him. He didn’t tend to make friends easily, and he didn’t want to. Growing up as an army brat, he’d learned not to lean on anyone because they’d be out of his life soon enough.
Something he’d unfortunately carried over into his love life too. To the point he’d left the love of his life to focus on work. Now he was being told he should be ‘nicer’ to the people he paid.
‘This,’ she said, waving a hand in his general direction. ‘You’re spiky. And, if you haven’t noticed, we have a high turnover of staff in the office. You’re great at your job, but you’re single-minded and it doesn’t make for a great atmosphere. I’m telling you this for your own sake, to make life easier for you, and for everyone else here. Poor Patty is going to have a nervous breakdown if she has to come into your office to ask you for another training budget. Be kind.’
His mouth twitched into an almost smile. Timid Patty in Accounts was definitely not someone he wanted to lose, but it was true, she didn’t stand up to him the way Donna did. He’d admit he wasn’t always in the mood to discuss another ex-employee, or the fact that they needed to interview more potentials.
Jake relaxed his frown, took a deep breath and attempted a calm voice. ‘What would you suggest?’
‘It’s coming up to Christmas. I know you don’t like parties, but I do think you should attend something with your staff to get to know them better. So they can see that, behind the expensive tailored suits and perma-scowl, you are actually human. That those rumours you were created in a lab under a full moon aren’t actually true.’ Donna batted her impossibly long eyelashes and smiled a sickly-sweet smile.
Jake raised an eyebrow. She was dancing on thin ice here. Especially when she was sitting on his desk, on top of his paperwork, not showing an ounce of respect for anything. It was just as well she was important to him here as a liaison between him and the outside world or he might take exception to his little sister telling him what to do.
‘Again, I ask: what would you suggest I do to make friends around here?’
There was a heavy dose of sarcasm in the request. He didn’t need to make friends, but he could do with fewer interruptions in his working day. If it got Donna off his back, and his workforce could toil independently of his input, it might be worth a try.
‘Well... I’ve heard about this place that does something called a pizza, prosecco and pottery night.’
‘Sounds like my idea of hell,’ he grumbled, imagining a room full of drunk women chucking clay around. He had no idea how that was going to improve working relations, and he wasn’t about to reenact any romantic cinematic pottery scenes with his employees in order to gain some fans.
Donna slapped him not so playfully on the arm. ‘It’ll be fun. And I don’t mean you pay for the evening and disappear. You’d have to stay and participate.’ She whipped out a business card from her pocket and handed it to him. ‘Here’s the address.’
Clearly, she already had this planned out, and if he wanted rid of her so he could get on with his working day, he would have to at least make it seem as if there was a possibility of arranging this.
‘Okay, okay, I’ll think about it. Now, shoo. I have work to do.’ He took the card and waved her out of his office.
Donna took her time getting up from his desk, brushed off her black and red body-con dress and narrowed her eyes at him. ‘See? You need to be nicer to me. I’m not some household pest; I am an asset to you, Mr Grouchy-Pants. Without me, you’d just be some recluse all the local kids are scared of. I am the only thing standing between you and a midnight procession of villagers with torches at your door.’
With a swish of her hair, Donna left his office.
How could he argue with any of that?
It was late, as usual, when Jake finally left work. The place was dark and empty. Sometimes he preferred it that way. Just like the city streets at this time of night. At least when he went home at this time he missed the rush-hour traffic, and the ensuing madness of everyone trying to get home at the same time. All he had to worry about here was driving on a dark, rainy December night.
As he waited at the traffic lights for the imaginary pedestrian who apparently needed to cross the road ahead of him, he happened to glance up at the building on the side of the road, an old converted mill now housing all manner of business units. He wondered why the street name seemed familiar, then he realised it was the address of the pottery place Donna had been so insistent about. On a whim, he clicked on his indicator and as soon as the green light flashed, he swerved onto the side road and into the car park in the grounds of the old mill buildings.
A quick glance around showed that many of the units were still open—a gym, a dance studio and oh, the pottery studio. A small sign attached to a heavy metal door proclaimed ‘Evie Kerrigan’s Ceramics Studio’ was upstairs. He could see that the lights were still on and, after some hesitation, Jake decided to unbuckle his seatbelt and investigate the place for himself.
Upon hauling the heavy door open he was faced with a stone spiral staircase surrounded by whitewashed walls, a cold, unwelcoming entrance that spoke of the original building, but eventually gave way to a brightly lit corridor and more modern-looking facilities. He noted the business names on the doors until he came to the one he was looking for. With the door already open, he knocked and walked on in.
It took him a moment to see past the wooden workbenches and shelves laden with an assortment of wares, but eventually he focused his gaze on the figure at the right-hand side of the room. Head down, humming away to the songs on the radio, she clearly hadn’t heard him enter the room. Jake took in the sight of her in her muddied apron and glasses while he waited.
Some snuffling at his feet alerted him to what seemed like a huge shaggy carpet laid before him. Then the creature raised its head and presented a half chewed, sodden teddy bear. Tail wagging with obvious excitement at sharing his prize with the stranger, he wasn’t much of a guard dog.
‘Dave! Come away! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.’
‘Dave?’ Jake peered at the retriever type canine with amusement, ruffling his fur and setting the tail wagging at full speed again.
The bespectacled brunette wiped her hands on an already dirty rag before getting to her feet to face him. ‘Yes. He’s my studio companion. It can get quite scary in here at night, and the place is rumoured to be haunted by a lady in white who apparently threw herself to her death from the top of the building. Mind you, I’m not sure Dave would do much to save me if I ever found myself in danger.’
‘No, I don’t think he’d be capable of scaring anyone away.’
Even Jake, who wasn’t usually a fan of any four-legged friend, was becoming increasingly enamoured of the lumbering furry cutie who was now lying on his back expecting tummy rubs. More startling than that was the fact that Jake was kneeling on the dusty floor in his suit, obliging.
A pair of crusty old trainers began to move towards him.
‘I thought you’d changed your mind about coming here tonight. If I’d known, I would’ve made myself more presentable. Although I know this isn’t a date date.’
‘Pardon me?’ Jake stood up again in time to see the pretty potter shaking her long hair free from its elastic confines and wiping the clay from her glasses.
‘I suppose you were a bit nervous, like me. It’s not the norm for either of us, I guess. Although, I have to say, you don’t look gay. I mean, I know that’s the wrong thing to say...not very PC, but I’m sure you could’ve found someone you know to do this for you.’ The woman was rambling. He was frowning, and wondering why on earth she would’ve assumed he was gay.
‘I’m sorry? It was my sister, Donna, who suggested this.’
‘Oh. So you were talked into this too? I have a friend like that. What is it with the hideous profile pictures they insist on setting up? Yours doesn’t look anything like you. You’re more handsome than I thought. Although your fur baby was covering most of your face so it was hard to tell.’ She rattled on nervously, making no sense whatsoever to Jake. His head was spinning, trying to make sense of what she was saying.
‘I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Thank you for the compliment, but the rest of that was lost on me. What’s a fur baby? And where is it you think you’ve seen me before?’
Jake watched her cheeks pink. ‘Your dog, Princess. She was in your profile picture. That’s what drew me to you on the Fake Date site.’
‘Fake Date?’
Now her cheeks were scarlet as it began to dawn on her that he probably wasn’t who she thought he was.
‘The app. For matching people who need a pretend girlfriend/boyfriend for the night. You’re not Olly Leadbetter, are you?’
‘No, I’m Jake Hanley. Not on any dating sites that I know of. I don’t have a dog called Princess, and I’m definitely not gay.’
But he was amused by the whole situation. There was something adorable about this woman, and it wasn’t just the streaks of clay on her face and in her hair.
It was the fact that he was so at ease in the midst of her chaos.
Usually, he needed everything neat and orderly around him to feel comfortable, no doubt a throwback to his father’s army-style parenting methods. It wasn’t as though he wasn’t used to highly strung women either. Patty from Accounts had her nails bitten down to the quick on a regular basis, and Donna only ever sat still if it was on top of his desk in the midst of his working day. But this was different. He was enjoying being in this woman’s world, which seemed such a long way from his, and he was curious about what the hell was going on with her.
‘Evie Kerrigan,’ she said, then buried her face in her hands. ‘I’m so sorry. I just assumed you were the guy I was supposed to meet tonight. Then he cancelled, and you showed up, and I just put two and two together.’
‘And came up with a closeted gay dog owner?’ He supposed it was an improvement on the village monster, and something which would make Donna cackle at the very thought.
‘Ugh. Sorry. Again. Can we just forget about that? What can I do for you, Mr Hanley?’
‘Jake. I actually came to see about arranging one of those pizza and pottery nights for my employees, but please, tell me more about this fake date thing, Evie.’ He pulled over a high stool and sat down, waiting for her to spill the details.
Her laugh, a mixture of embarrassment and hilarity at her own faux pas, made him chuckle too, something he didn’t do a lot of these days. Hell, he didn’t even realise it was in his repertoire to do so.
‘I can’t. It’s so unprofessional. And, may I say, uncharacteristic for me.’ She bent down to cuddle the dog, buried her head in his fur, and eventually ended up lying on the floor with him.
He liked this crazy Evie woman.
‘I haven’t actually employed your services yet, and I do think you owe me some kind of explanation...’
Evie sighed and stretched flat out on the floor.
‘My friend signed me up to this site so I can take a fake date home. Where my stepsister is getting engaged to my ex-boyfriend. That’s sad, right?’
She rolled over onto her side and leaned on her elbow.
Jake considered the scenario, which seemed harsh for someone who appeared so nice. ‘Practical, I’d say. Though I don’t know why you’d want to be involved in that at all.’
‘It’s complicated. They’re the only family I have, and I made a promise to my dad that I’d try and keep us together.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean for you to stick around to be walked over. These people screwed you over.’ He was assuming she’d made the vow on her father’s deathbed or something when she seemed so tied into the idea.
Evie winced and flopped back over onto her back, with a concerned Dave lying beside her. ‘I know, I know. For the past fifteen years I’ve been treated as though I’m nothing more than a nuisance. Ursula thinks I need closure. They broke my heart, but I picked myself up and started my own business. I shouldn’t be lying here thinking I’m a failure because the people I loved most in the world broke my trust. And why is this beginning to feel like a therapy session?’
‘Should I get my notebook and pen?’
‘I’m sorry. None of this has anything to do with you. You only came in to book a session. Which I’m going to have to heavily discount now if there’s any hope of you coming back. I swear I’m not usually this much of a mess.’ Evie got back onto her feet with another sigh, which seemed to come from the depths of her very soul.
‘So this is about revenge?’
‘More a case of not wanting to humiliate myself further. Although asking a stranger to pretend to be my boyfriend isn’t exactly the dream scenario.’
‘Sounds practical to me.’
Evie cocked her head to one side. ‘You don’t think I’m crazy?’
‘I never said that.’ He grinned. There weren’t many strangers who were willing to even approach him, never mind share such a personal story on a first meet. He supposed it was only because of a case of mistaken identity, but he got the impression from this brief interaction that Evie Kerrigan wore her heart on her sleeve. Something which, in the circumstances, was probably going to set her up for another fall with these horrid people in her life.
At least he’d managed to make her smile.
‘Well, thank you. I think.’
‘Honestly, I think it’s a good idea. I have a...thing to go to. It would be easier if I had someone to accompany me. No strings, no complications or expectations.’ The cogs were beginning to whirr now with the possibilities of this kind of arrangement.
Evie’s eyes were as wide as saucers. ‘Wait. Are you actually considering doing this with me?’
‘Yes, I am. My mother’s getting remarried and I’ll be expected to take a plus one. I don’t want the hassle of asking someone who’ll read more into it.’
Plus, Evie was sweet and amiable. She could probably act as a barrier between him and a legion of people he didn’t really want to talk to. Including his parents.
‘Okay...but I don’t know anything about you. At least with Olly I had an idea of the person I was going to be taking home with me.’
Despite being the answer to her prayers, she was now eyeing him suspiciously, her arms folded defensively across her chest, as though he often spent his nights trawling old buildings in search of women going through an emotional crisis.
Honestly, he was offended.
‘My name is Jake Hanley. I’m thirty-four, an army brat who moved from country to country with his parents, and who now also runs his own business and is too busy for “normal” relationships. I only came here because my sister, Donna, suggested I needed to bond with my workforce. Apparently, I’m too...unapproachable. Something about villagers chasing me with torches and pitchforks if I don’t make an effort.’ He wasn’t sure any of that information would help her to believe he wasn’t a danger, but it was the truth.
It had been a day for uncomfortable truths.
Evie was smirking by the end of his introduction. Arms unfolded. Ice broken.
‘Okay, I believe you, and I can see we both need each other. We will also have to get our stories straight if we’re ever going to convince anyone that we’re a couple. But it’s getting late. Why don’t we meet up to discuss the details some other time?’
‘It’s a date.’ He couldn’t resist getting one last rise out of her before walking away, her side-eye putting a little pep in his step.
Today had been full of surprises, but the biggest one had been meeting someone who took his mind off everything except her.
Donna would be impressed. Exactly why he wasn’t going to tell her anything about Evie Kerrigan.
