MY POOR FAKE HUSBAND

CHAPTER 2:THE COFFEE

*CHAPTER 2: THE COFFEE*

The bell above Joe’s Auto Repair jingled at 7:42am.

I didn’t look up. I was wrist-deep in a Toyota engine, trying to remember which bolt went where. Tony had laughed at me for 10 minutes straight yesterday.

"Damon! Customer!" Joe yelled from the office.

I wiped my hands on my jumpsuit and walked to the front.

And froze.

Elena Carter was standing there.

She was wearing the same yellow dress from yesterday, but today she had her hair in a messy bun and she was holding two paper coffee cups. One had lipstick on the rim.

My heart did something stupid.

"Morning," she said. Her voice was softer than yesterday. Less angry. "I... I said I’d come back with coffee."

Right. The $20 I gave back to her.

I cleared my throat. "You didn’t have to."

"I know." She held out one cup to me. "But you looked like you needed it. You have that... tired CEO look."

I almost choked. CEO. She had no idea.

"Thanks," I said, taking the cup. It was hot. Black. Exactly how I liked it. How did she know? "You get the interview?"

Her face lit up. "I did! Night shift at Mercy Hospital. Reception. It pays $18 an hour."

That was good. That meant $8,000 for her brother’s surgery was possible now.

"That’s great, Elena."

She smiled and for a second the garage didn’t smell like oil anymore. It smelled like coffee and something clean.

"So," she said, shifting on her feet. "I owe you a conversation too. You gave me $20 back yesterday."

"I was feeling generous."

"Bullshit."

The word came out sharp and I laughed. First real laugh in weeks.

"You’re Damon the mechanic who’s too nice and has soft hands," she said, looking at my hands. "Where’d you learn to fix cars?"

Lie. Lie. Lie.

"My... dad," I said. "He owned a shop. Before he died."

Her face softened immediately. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. It was a long time ago." Also a lie. My dad died when I was 8. But not in a garage.

She nodded like she believed me. "My mom died when I was 16. That’s why it’s just me and my brother now."

The air between us got heavy.

Two people with dead parents and too much responsibility.

"You want to sit?" I asked, gesturing to the old bench by the tire pile. "Break’s in 5."

She hesitated, then sat. I sat next to her, leaving exactly 6 inches between us.

For 10 minutes we didn’t talk about money or hospitals or wills.

We talked about stupid things. Worst customers. Best coffee. The fact that Joe’s dog slept in the office.

She was funny. Dry. Smart.

She noticed things. Like the way I flinched when a car horn went off.

Like the way I didn’t know what brand of chips to buy from the vending machine.

"You’re not from around here, are you?" she asked suddenly.

"What makes you say that?"

"You say 'thank you' too much. And you stand like someone’s always watching you."

I went cold. Was she guessing?

"Paranoid ex," I said quickly. "She made me jumpy."

Elena nodded, accepting it. "I get that."

Joe yelled my name. "Damon! Back to work!"

I stood up. Elena stood too.

"Hey," she said before I could walk away. "Can I... can I have your number? In case my car dies again."

She was lying. Her car was fine.

She just wanted my number.

Damon Cole would say yes.

Roman James should say no. Too dangerous. Vincent could find me.

I gave her my number.

"Text me," I said. "I mean... for the car stuff."

She smiled. "For the car stuff. Got it."

She walked out. Yellow dress in the morning sun.

Tony nudged me. "Dude. She’s hot. And she brought you coffee. You moving in?"

"Shut up," I said, but I was smiling at my phone.

It buzzed 2 minutes later.

Unknown Number: _Hey. It’s Elena. From the coffee. Thanks again Damon._

I stared at it for way too long before typing back.

Me: _Anytime. Don’t let your car die again._

Me: _Unless you want more free coffee._

I deleted that last line and just sent the first one.

---

That night was different.

I went home to my $900 apartment and it didn’t feel empty.

I had someone to text.

My phone buzzed again at 11pm.

Elena: _My brother saw the hospital bill today. He cried. He’s 14. He shouldn’t have to._

My chest hurt.

Roman James could wire $50,000 right now and solve it.

Damon Cole had $40.

Me: _He’s lucky to have you fighting for him._

Elena: _Thanks. You’re... different Damon._

Me: _Different how?_

Elena: _You look at me like I’m not broken._

I put the phone down and stared at the ceiling.

Grandpa. What did you do to me?

30 days. 26 left.

If I told Elena who I was, she’d think I was lying.

If I didn’t tell her, I’d be lying by omission.

My phone buzzed again.

Vincent: _Heard you got a job. Cute. 25 days left, cousin._

I didn’t answer.

Instead I opened my laptop. Not the James Tower laptop. The cheap one I bought for $200.

I started a spreadsheet.

"How to help Elena without her knowing."

Row 1: Anonymous donation to hospital? Too traceable.

Row 2: Win the lottery and give her the ticket? Stupid.

Row 3: Marry her in 25 days and pay it all?

I closed the laptop.

---

Day 4.

Elena showed up again. This time with lunch. Two sandwiches.

"You’re stalking me," I said, but I took the sandwich.

"You’re welcome," she said. "You looked hungry yesterday."

We ate in my car. A beat-up Honda I bought for $2,000 cash. Roman James would have gagged. Damon Cole loved it.

"Can I ask you something personal?" she said between bites.

"Sure."

"Why are you really here? Mechanics with your... vibe don’t usually work at Joe’s."

My vibe. What did that mean?

"I’m running from something," I said. The truth, kind of. "I needed to start over."

She nodded. "Me too."

"From what?"

"From being broke. From watching my brother get sicker and not being able to help." Her voice cracked. "From feeling useless."

I reached out without thinking and took her hand. Her fingers were cold.

"You’re not useless, Elena."

She looked at me. Really looked at me.

"Neither are you," she whispered.

The moment stretched. Too long.

Joe yelled. The moment broke.

But her hand stayed in mine for 3 more seconds before she pulled away.

---

That night I couldn’t sleep.

I kept thinking about her hand. About the way she said "useless".

At 2am I did something stupid.

I called Marco.

"Boss, it’s 2am."

"I know."

"Are you okay?"

"No. There’s a girl."

Silence. Then: "Oh."

"She thinks I’m poor, Marco."

"I figured."

"What if I fall in love with her and then I have to tell her I lied?"

Marco sighed. "Then you tell her the truth and hope she loves Damon too."

"And if she doesn’t?"

"Then you lose her and you lose the company."

"Thanks for that."

"Anytime boss."

I hung up and looked at my phone.

Elena had texted at midnight.

Elena: _Can’t sleep. Thinking about what you said. That I’m not useless. Thank you._

I typed back.

Me: _You’re not. You’re the strongest person I know._

She replied instantly.

Elena: _You barely know me._

Me: _I know enough._

Three dots. Then nothing.

I fell asleep with my phone in my hand.

---

The next morning, Joe called me into the office.

"Damon. A word."

I followed him in, heart pounding. Did he figure out who I was?

He closed the door. "Look kid. You’re good. But you’re too... nice. This is a business. Don’t go giving discounts to pretty girls."

I nodded. "Won’t happen again."

"Good." He paused. "But if she comes back, fix her car for free. She reminds me of my daughter."

I left the office confused and smiling.

My phone buzzed.

Elena: _Lunch again? My treat this time._

Me: _You’re gonna make me fat._

Elena: _Good. Then you’ll look less like a CEO._

I laughed out loud in the garage. Tony threw a rag at me.

25 days left.

And for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about the company.

I was thinking about coffee.

And yellow dresses.

And a girl who thought Damon Cole was worth knowing.

I got home to my $900 apartment and the silence didn’t feel heavy. It felt... quiet. Like I could actually hear myself think.

I made instant noodles. Roman James would have gagged. Damon Cole ate all of it.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

Elena: _Did you eat?_

I stared at the message. She remembered I skipped lunch.

Me: _Just noodles. You?_

Elena: _Leftover rice. My brother ate first. He’s feeling better today._

Me: _That’s good._

Elena: _It’s because of you. The $20 you gave back. We used it for his meds._

My chest tightened.

$20. To her, it was everything. To me, it was what I spent on coffee in a day at James Tower.

Me: _Don’t thank me. Just get better._

Elena: _You’re weird Damon._

Me: _Weird how?_

Elena: _Most guys would’ve kept the $20. Or asked for something back._

Me: _I don’t want anything back._

Three dots. Then they disappeared. Then came back.

Elena: _Goodnight Damon._

Me: _Goodnight Elena._

I put the phone down and looked around my apartment.

One bed. One chair. One hot plate.

And for the first time in 6 years, I felt rich.

---

Day 5 at Joe’s.

Tony caught me smiling at my phone. Again.

"Bro. You got it bad."

"Shut up," I said, but I was still smiling.

"When are you gonna ask her out? Like, for real? Not 'car trouble' fake?"

I froze. Ask her out?

Roman James dates models in penthouses.

Damon Cole can barely afford gas.

"I can’t," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because..." Because in 24 days I might be CEO again and she’ll hate me. Because if I win the company, I lose her.

"Because I’m nobody," I finished.

Tony frowned. "You’re Damon. That’s somebody."

I didn’t answer.

---

That evening Elena came by after her hospital shift.

She looked exhausted. Scrubs on, hair tied back, dark circles under her eyes.

"You okay?" I asked.

She nodded, then shook her head. "The hospital called. My brother’s surgery got moved up. But it’s $12,000 now. Not $8,000."

The world stopped.

$12,000.

I had $12,000 in my wallet. Well, in a bank account I wasn’t supposed to touch.

"What happened?" I asked, voice rough.

"Insurance. Something about codes." She laughed, but it was hollow. "It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. I always do."

She was lying. I could see it in her eyes.

"Elena—"

"Don’t," she said quickly. "I’m not asking you for money Damon. I just... I needed to tell someone."

And she told me.

Me. Damon the mechanic.

I wanted to tell her. I wanted to say "I can pay it. Right now. Tonight."

But I couldn’t.

If I did, the 30-day deal was over. Grandpa would disown me. Vincent would win.

So I did the only thing Damon Cole could do.

I pulled her into a hug.

She stiffened for one second, then melted.

She smelled like hospital soap and coffee.

"It’s going to be okay," I whispered. "I promise."

A lie. But I needed her to believe it.

She pulled back, eyes wet. "Thanks. For listening."

"Anytime."

She left. Yellow dress under her scrubs jacket.

I watched her go and hated myself.

---

Back in my apartment that night I opened my laptop.

I stared at my James Corp bank account for 20 minutes.

$4.2 Billion.

I could transfer $12,000 and no one would notice.

I could save her brother.

But then what?

I’d be breaking the rules.

I’d be proving Vincent right. That I can’t live without money.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown Number: _Damon, it’s me. I’m sorry for dumping that on you. You don’t have to fix it._

Elena.

Me: _You didn’t dump anything. I’m here._

Elena: _Why are you so kind to me?_

I typed, deleted, typed again.

Me: _Because you deserve someone to be kind to you._

No reply.

I put the phone down and whispered to the empty room:

"24 days left.

And all I want is to spend them with her."

*END OF CHAPTER 2*