10. The Stepfather

The tall ornateiron gate with a monogrammed T in gold in front of me held an ominous sight. A little too late for second guessing this arrangement now. I drew in a deep breath sitting in my rented convertible, having traded in the Rolls for a Mercedes-Benz SLC, and watched the gate open.

I drove onto the circular driveway of one of the grandest estates I’d ever seen. It reminded me of those old-timey mansions of Hollywood in the sixties and seventies. Water fountains, sprawling green lawns, palm trees, marble pillars, and the like.

Why did I agree to this? A case of the nerves had hit me overnight, and by now they were completely frayed.

Then Honey came into view, waiting for me on the steps of the front entrance. She waved as I put the car into park, and she bounded up to the passenger side in a red halter dress, her hair bouncing freely around her shoulders.

“Hi, gorgeous,” I called.

She leaned in, giving me a perfect view of her cleavage. “Nice car. I think this one suits you best.”

Her smile widened with eyes crinkling at the corners and an easy chuckle, and somehow this hit me as the most natural I’d seen of her yet, setting me at ease. I jumped out and came around, and, for the hell of it, picked her up at the waist and swung her around. All for show, of course, in case anyone was watching.

“What are you doing?” Her laughter rang out like a soft melody.

I let her body slide down the front of me until our lips were even. Mine pressed to hers and I savored the taste of them. How plump they were, kissing me back. Even if fake, I needed this connection to take the edge off after a night of tossing and turning, dreaming about fucking her so good.

I nuzzled into her neck, buzzing my lips there, and she laughed again. “Come on. It’s time to meet Cal.”

She gave away no sign of nervousness, never wavering. Either she excelled in acting school, or was really in love with me. I held in a chuckle at that.

After a quick tour as we made our way through the house, she paused at a wall of French glass doors that led out to a wide veranda and the pool beyond. “Ready?”

The doors swung open as if this was my entry into the world of the movie business. In the distance, at the pool, an older man came into view. I stopped and pulled her to me at the top of the stairs, dipping her.

“Make it real. Let’s keep up appearances,” I whispered, and captured her lips again with a kiss so smooth and debonair, as if I’d practiced this move on her fifty times before.

“Too much,” she hissed when I brought her upright.

“Nah. We can never have enough kisses. Now, try not to fall in love with me.” I joked, and took her hand to steady her as we descended the stairs, each one bringing us closer to Cal.

“Here we are,” she said as we arrived at a pool area that rivaled any movie set with a swanky pool scene. But he was on the phone and ignored us.

Mr. Tomms sat on a chair at a table under an umbrella, a somewhat rotund man, with shiny white hair. A fierce aura surrounded him, judging by the fact he started yelling at whoever was on the other end. Something about music rights in a film they were getting set to release. I didn’t envy the recipient of his scowl.

We stood there until he ended the call after a minute. In that time, I composed myself, enduring the heat of his eyes on me, judging.

“Dad, this is Buddy Rodgers, my fiancé.” Honey beamed at me.

“Mr. Tomms, how are you? Thanks for having me here today.” I held my hand out to shake.

“You can call him Cal,” she corrected me.

“He can call me Mr. Tomms,” he corrected her. He regarded me with some measure of a skeptic, then shook my hand firmly, remaining seated.

“Buddy. Interesting name.”

“My real name, Baird, was hard for me to pronounce as a child, so it always came out Bud. Later it became Buddy.” I shared the friendly story while pulling out a chair for Honey and sat next to her.

“So, you two are getting married?” he asked, no beating around the bush.

“Yes, sir.”

His attention shifted to Honey, and he arched his brow.

“I was keeping it under wraps; I needed to be sure. But when Buddy stepped off the plane, I knew this felt so right,” she added with a soft smile, holding up her hand with the rock on it. She certainly played her part with perfection.

“Hm. I see you’re wearing your mother’s ring. Can’t he afford to buy you your own?”

That got my back up, and I shifted uneasily in my seat. “He can, but frankly, I was waiting until we had time to shop together for the ring she wanted,” I clarified. The heat of the situation and this midday sun suddenly had me sweating.

“You know, back in my day, a man asked for the parent’s blessing before proposing.” He delivered the line with all the seriousness of a mafia don, looking to shrink me down five inches.

“Dad!”

I cleared my throat. “While I appreciate the sentiment, to be honest, when I heard another man was interested in her, well, I had to move quickly to capture this rare beauty for myself. You can’t blame me for rushing things. I couldn’t imagine anyone else in my life.”

I ended with my eyes on hers, bringing her hand to my lips. She covered her heart with her other hand, making an Aww sound, and that told me I was winning at being a fake fiancé.

“That said,” I returned attention to Cal. “It would be an honor to receive your blessing, sir.” Kissing up to him wouldn’t hurt.

Her stepdad nodded, and a slow grin spread across his face. A slight improvement to his gruff demeanor.

“Good. Very good,” he said in a crisp voice. “I see you had a reason to reject my choice in suitors for you after all, Honey.”

She squeezed my hand. “Trust me. Edward is no match for Buddy.”

His eyes were on me again, this time deeply inquiring. “But what do you know about the film industry?” Fuck, it was like one step forward, two back with him.

He caught me there. “Only what Honey has taught me. But business is business, and I have plenty of experience in that. I can be the supportive husband she needs, by her side always. I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with her.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Forever can sometimes be a muddled concept.”

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” I assured.

“With a woman like Honey, I think that’s a good plan. She’ll keep you on your toes, and that’s a fact.” He paused to light a cigar, despite Honey’s disapproving look.

After a few puffs, he spoke again. “I met your father, Buddy. A few years ago, I attended the Hollywood Charity Horse Show Gala, and he was the keynote speaker. He’s an avid supporter of anything benefitting children’s and veteran’s charities, but you probably knew that.”

“Yes, sir.” Since Dad’s assistant sent me monthly updates about the family fund, I knew. When reading those, I kept in touch with whatever Dad invested in or where he spent his time, much more than our irregular phone calls.

“I came away with a rather excellent impression of him from our first meeting. And if you’re anything like him, then I know Honey will be in good hands,” he continued.

Next to me, I could feel relief sweep through her. Me, too. It certainly helped to know we had managed to gain his approval for our fake marriage.

“Of course, there’s one more person you need to impress,” he announced. Honey’s shoulders fell. “You must take to him to meet Margarita or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“You can’t be serious. She and I hardly speak these days.” Honey lashed back.

“And don’t I know it? She calls all the time asking about you.”

“Uh, who’s Margarita?” I asked, hoping simply for the drink at a bar.

“Cal’s second wife; my stepmom. She lives outside of Boston now with her new husband.”

“There was a time you were close. I don’t know what happened, but the private jet will be ready for you two at the hangar next week. You’ll go see Margarita and when you get back, I’ll throw you an engagement party here at the house. In three months’ time, you’ll have the wedding at my home in Malibu on the cliffs above the ocean. I’ll have a wedding planner contact you to begin making all the arrangements.”

Honey tensed all over again. “You don’t have to go to all that trouble, Dad. A simple civil ceremony will do. ”

“Nonsense. I insist we do this my way. Or not at all,” he cut in with a warning. “You’ve got a fine young man here. The least I can do is to send off my stepdaughter in style.”

It’d irritate the crap out of me, that he’d dictate our wedding plans if they were real. I thought Honey’s fear of men ruling Hollywood was a little irrational, but now I began to see her point. Although only in her life temporarily, as a fake husband, this wouldn’t work for me. I’d need to stand up for us as a couple or suffer getting railroaded by him.

Before I could offer a rebuttal, though, another call came in on his phone. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed us. Honey stood, and I followed her, leaving Cal with a final respectful nod of my head.

At my car, she launched herself into the passenger seat. “I don’t know how we’re going to pull this off with him dictating wedding details.”

“Relax. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I drove us away, unsure where we were headed. “For the most part, I think I held my own against Cal. Our visit went well. ”

“It felt quite real enough,” she agreed. But the underlying current of worry I detected in her put me back on edge. Was it just this fake marriage or were all marriages this complicated?