The Fake Fiancée

Chapter 5

The shrill, persistent ringtone of my phone pierces the silence, disrupting my slumber. In a groggy, half-asleep state, I fumble for my phone, the weight of sleep still clinging to my limbs as I swipe to answer the call. “H-hello?” I mumble, my voice thick with sleep.

The voice on the other end is smooth, warm, yet commanding. “Good morning, ma’am. I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he says, his voice unwavering. “It’s alright,” I manage to say, my brain still sluggish from sleep.

“I am calling to inform you of your appointment with Mr Edward Prince at noon this afternoon at the Notlih restaurant by Rivers Street.”

I sit up in bed, the shift in posture doing little to calm my racing thoughts. “Ma’am, can you hear me?" For a moment, I’m frozen. Then, with a start, I remember the phone, the conversation, the voice waiting on the other end. “Yes, I can hear you. Sorry about that. Noon. I'll be there." I manage to say, as I struggle to maintain a steady, neutral tone.

The numbers on the clock stare back at me, cold and unyielding, a visual representation of the passing minutes. It’s 10:13, and I have to get ready. I cannot be late for my meeting with Edward. Yet, even as I make my way to the bathroom, my heart heavy with uncertainty, my thoughts cannot help but echo the question, "Is this a good idea?”

My footfalls echo in the empty hallway. I cannot lose my mother, I cannot lose her. This need to keep her alive drives me. The uncertainty begins to fade, replaced by a growing resolve.

Edward’s offer may be unconventional, even suspect, but the potential benefits for my mother outweigh my unease. And since he’s good-looking, well, that’s just a bonus. I shake my head, the thought absurd yet tantalizing.

“This is just a temporary thing. I’ll pretend to be his fiancée, play the part, and get paid. No strings attached. Easy," I tell myself, trying to sound confident, to push aside the doubts that niggle at the edges of my mind. The heat of the shower washes over me, and with it comes clarity and a sense of purpose. This will just be another job. I’ll impress him with my ability to play the part and come away with enough money to help my mother. It’s that simple.

The steam that billows out of the bathroom does little to mask the warmth of Casey’s gaze, her eyes like spotlights on my back as I step out, damp and towel-clad. I turn to face her, my smile

faltering slightly as I notice the crossed arms and the furrowed brow. “What’s up?” I ask, my voice faltering with feigned nonchalance.

“I’m surprised to hear about this appointment from someone else and not you,” she says, her tone full of accusation. “Oh, that." I let out a sigh of relief. “Yes, that. So what is it about?"

“Mm, let’s say I got myself a new job, a better one." I spill. “A new job, eh? A better one, you say?” Casey’s voice is a mix of surprise and intrigue, her eyes widening in curiosity. “Slowdown, slow down. I met a cute guy and he wants me to be his fiancee.” She holds up a hand,

her fingers splayed in a gesture of mock surrender.

“You lost your job? Did you meet a cute guy?

Fiancée? What the hell is going on, Estel?”

The rapid-fire questions almost overwhelm me, and I laugh, my voice light and airy, attempting to diffuse the situation. “Okay, okay.” I raise my hands in mock surrender, still holding the towel.

“Let me explain.”

I tell her about last night’s events, about the gala hall disaster, the cute guy. My words spill out, quick and breathless, like water from a tap, and I feel the weight of the secret lift from my shoulders. “And so, he wants me to be his fake fiancée.”

I pause, watching Casey’s face for her reaction, my breath held. She blinks, her eyes wide with surprise, then bursts into a fit of giggles. “A fake fiancée?!” she manages to say between guffaws. “That’s insane! But…I have to admit, it sounds like an easy gig if you can get it.” She looks at me, her face serious for a moment. “Are you sure he’s not a serial killer or something?”

I scoff, rolling my eyes at Casey’s suggestion. “Serial killer? Please. Edward is too handsome to be a serial killer.” I pause for a moment, considering. “Although, he does seem a bit mysterious.”

Casey raises an eyebrow. “Well, I guess you’ll find out more at the appointment. Are you nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.” I shake my head, trying to convince myself as much as her. “No, seriously, Estel, be careful.” Casey’s voice takes on a note of concern, her eyes pleading with me. “This whole thing seems too good to be true.”

I wave away her concerns with a dismissive hand. “He’s just a rich guy with a weird request. It’s fine. Wait how did you even get to know about the appointment?”

“Well, someone called to say that the appointment has been postponed to 2:00 pm." Her words hit me like a bucket of cold water, my mind racing as I try to process what she’s saying. “He’s postponed it? But he didn’t even give me a chance to confirm.” I feel a prickle of annoyance, a seed of doubt taking root in my mind. Casey shrugs. “It’s alright, Estel. That gives you more time to get some rest.”

I lie on the bed to rest for a while. “Oh my God,” I mutter as I glance at the time on my phone.

“2:29 pm?” The numbers flash on the screen, an accusation of my tardiness. I wake Casey, who is asleep beside me, and we both rush out of the house to board a taxi.