Chapter 5
1675 Words
***Mild Trigger Warning: There is a short mention of s****l assault in this chapter.***
Claire’s Point of View.
The tall, sexy mystery man sits on the curb next to me. With the softness of a mother, he takes off his tie and wraps it around my hand, stemming the bleeding.
“There, that should stop the bleeding, at least for now.”
His voice is sultry and deep with the slightest rasp. It sends chills down my spine.
“Thank you.” I say, hiding my head in the shadows. His touch has made my cheeks rosy.
From outside the restaurant a screech echos down the street. It sounds like if a cat could scratch its voice across a chalkboard.
A woman wearing clothes that are far too young for her age heads towards us. A man in his fifties trails her. He looks uncomfortable.
The strange man leans in close to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“Play along?” His voice is low and smooth as his breath tickles the inside of my ear.
I nod in agreement.
Life is too short not to live on the edge. Plus, what could this strange and wealthy man need from someone like me?
The older man reaches us first.
“Tyler, why are you sitting on the ground with this…peasant?” The word peasant spits from his lips.
The mystery man’s name is Tyler. I make a mental note of this as he pulls me closer to his body. A fake smile dons his face. I stifle a chuckle, who uses the word ‘peasant’ in this generation.
“Well, father, the woman you just called a peasant is my fiancee.”
My heart jumps in my chest. I did not expect those words to flood from his mouth. It takes a moment for me to gather my thoughts. At first I want to reject his advances, but then I realize we are playing a game, and I like games.
“Pleasure to meet you, Tyler’s father. I would shake your hand, but I am covered in blood.”
His mother, or the woman I assume is his mother, turns her lips up in disgust.
I watch his father scoff with disgust.
“Nice try. She isn’t wearing a ring.”
Tyler squirms for a moment. I must admit, he looks cute when he doesn’t know how to respond.
Saving him from himself, I respond, “That is because engagement rings come from an archaic era where men would use the ring as a token to purchase a woman. Instead of removing the practice, over the generations we have adapted it into a ceremony of celebration and joy, when it is still about ownership. Tyler is my partner, not my owner.”
Tyler’s shoulder’s relax as his eyes glare a thank-you to me. He had nothing to say.
His mother rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her fake boobs. “Oh god, she’s poor and a feminist.”
The security guard arrives back, his casual saunter acts as if nothing has happened.
“Charlie, I am sure you have met this woman. Can you tell me who she is?” Tyler’s mother says.
“Elaine. I have told you a thousand times, I don’t work for you and I don’t answer you.”Charlie says. His response is stoic.
The tension between the two groups is palpable. I feel clueless about the whole situation. I mean, I do not know who Tyler actually is or why on earth he would lie about wanting to marry me. Not to mention what his parent’s issue with me is. I’m not that poor.
Charlie turns to Tyler. “I dealt with the troublesome man and phoned an ambulance for her.”
Tyler nods. An uncomfortable silence fills the space, almost forcing his parents to leave.
As soon as they are out of earshot, the space changes from a tightness to crackling energy.
Tyler reaches his hand up to help me up. “Thank you for that.”
Still a little woozy from the blood loss, I take his hand. Our fingers stay intertwined for a moment before we both realize and let go.
The ambulance pulls up and I head over to them, leaving Tyler and Charlie to catch up.
The paramedic takes off the tie and looks at my hand. “That is quite a stab wound. How did it happen?”
“I stopped a man from raping a young woman and he stabbed me.”
The paramedic bandages my hand as we converse. “And where is this man now?”
My heart jumps for a minute. What did Charlie do with him? Do I even want to know?
“He ran off when those two men came over.” I hope my lie is strong enough.
“You are going to need stitches, but I don’t think there is any permanent damage. We have to attend a bar fight down the road. Can you get yourself to the hospital?” He hands me the tie.
I nod. I have a hand wrapped in what feels like a foot of gauze. There is no way I can move my hand like this. I sigh, a defeated feeling rushing over me.
As the ambulance pulls out, sirens going, I fiddle for my phone in my pocket. Tyler walks over with Charlie behind him.
“What did they say?” Tyler asks.
“That I need stitches.” I hand Tyler his tie. “Thanks for the loan. I’ll pay for dry cleaning to get the blood out.”
“No need. How are you getting to the hospital?”
I fidget with my phone, still struggling to get it out of my pocket.
“I’ll call a cab as soon as I get this stupid thing out of my pocket.” I grunt with frustration.
Tyler takes my free hand, stopping me. “No need. You are my fake fiancee. The least I can do is escort you to the hospital.”
Charlie leaves to go get their vehicle. It almost seems as if Charlie can read his mind.
“Really Tyler, you don’t have to do that. I am fine. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be tonight. I am sure someone like you has better things to do than wait in an emergency room with me.”
“Someone like me?” he questions.
“Your SUV costs more than my apartment and your watch is at least ten thousand dollars. That tie that I ruined is pure, handwoven silk. You must be someone important.”
A small smile creeps up the side of his lip, “and how do you know all of this?”
I shrug, not too concerned about him. “My ex-husband drove an expensive car and had a Rolex. I bought many silk ties for birthdays and Christmas.”
“Oh yuck, I remind you of your ex.” His teasing tone surprises me.
“Don’t worry, you are nothing like him.”
Charlie pulls up with the car. We both hop in. Tyler tries to help me with my door, but a glare from me causes him to stop. I spent so much of my life relying on James that all I want now is some independence.
I clamber into the massive vehicle and use most of my body weight to swing the door close. As I buckle in, I feel Tyler’s eyes boring into me.
“What?” I say, curious about him.
“You are independent. I like that. I never asked your name.”
Charlie scoffs from the front seat. “Seriously, Tyler, that is the first question you ask.”
He rolls his eyes at Charlie.
“It’s Claire. And my independence is none of your business. I am your fake fiancee, remember.”
Another scoff comes from Charlie. This time it is one of amusement.
Tyler’s phone rings. The car bluetooth picks it up.
It is his mother, with that whiny scratchy voice.
“Hi Tyler. I assume Charlie and that, well, that woman are with you. Your father and I are going to meet you at St. Vincent’s hospital. We have a few questions to ask about this so-called fiancee of yours.”
He hangs up the call.
“f**k. God, she is a bitch.” Tyler says, not hiding his disdain for his own mother.
“Claire, will you keep pretending to be my fiancee? I will pay you anything. Just name your price and you will have it.”
I think for a minute, as much as money would be helpful, my finances at the moment are under control.
“Anything?” I say.
“Yes, anything you want.”
I let the silence fill the car.
“I will pretend to be your fiancee if you promise to come to my best friend’s wedding as my date. It’s in six weeks. My stupid bastard, cheating ex husband will be there with his young mistress. I want to see his pathetic little face when I walk in with you on my arm.”
“You want me to attend the wedding of your friend as a plus one?”
“Yes.” I say.
“As revenge on your ex-husband. How does that work?”
I smile, the wheels in my head turning as I work out my plan.
“He thinks I will attend alone. I left him and he will point out how alone I am to every person. Unless I am not alone.”
Tyler smirks, the edge of his lip turning ever so slightly.
“Sounds like fun. Are you certain you don’t need any financial compensation?”
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “No amount of money can replace the joy of getting back at my ex.”
Charlie pulls the car up to the emergency room. I take a deep breath. It’s time to pretend again.
- Writer
