I hooked a finger around the straps of my purse and slid it down his arm. He didn’t seem self-conscious about carrying the thing, but for some reason, I was. It seemed like something a husband would do. But maybe that was the point. Maybe he was already getting into character.
The elevator doors opened with a ding. Floor-to-ceiling windows let copious amounts of sunshine into the lobby, and I stepped out blinking against the bright light. “It’s not too late. We haven’t said I do yet.”
His hand returned to my back. “Come on, there’s a bakery on the corner that has the most amazing cupcakes.”
Couldn’t say I hadn’t given him an out. Not my fault he didn’t take it.
He guided me left down the sidewalk, my mind making a mental list of all the information we needed to hash out to make this ruse believable. I mean, the facts I knew about the guy could be ticked off on one hand. What if Ken or his wife asked me a question about Landon that I didn’t know the answer to? Something a wife should know? Like why he smelled like he’d been hugging trees when he’d actually been debugging his mom’s computer. And did he always wear plaid? The gig could be up in five seconds flat, which would be great for me but not so hot for Claire and Noah.
What I needed to do was approach this like a test. I was great in school. All I needed was a stack of flash cards. Study sheets. Essay questions. Multiple choice questions. I’d study my hiney off for the next couple of days, and by the time we sailed over to Whidbey island on the ferry, I’d ace being Landon Novak’s wife.
Out of the corner of my eye, a window display grabbed my attention, and I slammed on the brakes. A rainbow of highlighters lay side by side, beckoning me to pick them up. Post-it Notes, tabs, binders. This! This is what I needed to prepare, not some calorie-ridden cupcake.
Okay, yeah, I needed a cupcake too. The chocolatiest one they had. After I got my study supplies.
“Ashleigh?” Landon paused beside me. “The bakery’s right here.” He indicated the next shop with a dip of his head.
Flash cards or cupcake? Hard choice. My weight shifted back and forth between my feet. With a last, longing glance at the office supply display, I followed Landon into the bakery. I had Harper’s notebook, after all. I could take notes now and make my flash cards and study questions later.
Landon ordered a huckleberry muffin while I went for the chocolate. We found a small table tucked away in the corner where there weren’t too many people.
I pulled down the wrapper around the sides of the cupcake and used a fork to slice off a bite. “First things first, we need to get our stories straight.”
Landon pinched off a piece of his muffin and popped it in his mouth. A few crumbs clung to the hairs of his beard before he brushed them away. “What stories?”
“What we’re going to tell people. About us.”
“I thought we were going to tell them we’re married.”
“Well, yeah, but I mean, if they ask us how we met, what are we going to say?”
His green eyes stared straight into mine, and he spoke slowly. Not like talking to a child, but more like he really wanted me to hear what he was saying. “I’m going to say that we met at my mother’s house during one of her book club meetings.”
“Oh.” Duh. My cheeks heated. I shoved my fork in my mouth. Heavens, that’s delicious. I chewed and swallowed. “What about if they ask for more specifics?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “I’ll tell them that we had a whirlwind romance. That some of our friends and family weren’t so sure that we were making the right decision, but that as soon as I heard your voice, I knew what I needed to do. And that we’ve been blissfully happy together ever since.”
Blissfully might be pushing it. But…how’d he do it? How’d he take the facts and articulate them in a way that made them sound romantic? I even got a little weak in the knees, and I knew the whole thing was a farce.
“Do you think they’ll buy it?” I asked.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “The truth? Well, mostly. Of course they’ll believe it.”
“But what if they ask more questions?”
“Like what? Is this guy secretly an interrogator for the CIA or something?”
A chocolate chunk lodged in my throat. I grabbed at my neck and coughed. Landon scooted his chair next to me, pounded on my back, and handed me his cup of water. “Sorry,” I squeaked out once my wind pipe had been cleared. My cheeks heated.
People joke about the CIA. There are conspiracy theories and coverup theories and off-the-wall theories. Mostly, people make stuff up about something they don’t really know anything about. But when you grow up with both your parents working in the State Department, living in countries that at times could be deemed unsafe, you get glimpses into that world of top secret missions and hushed conversations behind closed doors. Very cloak and dagger.
And not something I joke about.
Ever.
Because, really, you never knew who was a spy…
Landon pushed the curtain of blonde hair that had fallen into my face over my shoulder. “Better?”
