Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“Dad, about me and Colin …”
He gives a slight smile, and there’s a definite note of sadness. “You’re not going to live happily ever after?”
“Okay, I have to ask,” I say slowly. “Did you and Mom really think we would?”
“Does she think it’s a real marriage? No, not really. I’d like to think we’re both too smart for that. Hope, though. That’s different. I’ll confess that she’s let herself hope that it could be real. So have I, for that matter.”
Ugh. That’s both extremely sweet and a little bit sad, thinking that they’ve been secretly longing for Colin to become their son-in-law for real.
“But it’s been ten years,” I say slowly. “Surely you sort of figured that—”
“That Colin really likes living in the US?” my dad says slyly.
“Yeah,” I say, relieved that it’s out there without having to be spelled out.
“I know. Your mother does too. But I guess I’ll have to admit to having some of the same old-fashioned sensibilities as your grandmother when she put a marriage stipulation on your trust fund. And that old-fashioned part of me wants my only daughter to find a nice man.”
“And you think that’s Colin?” I say, not bothering to keep the skepticism out of my voice.
“What’s not to like? He’s polite. Successful. Respectful. Considerate.”
“Uptight? Boring? Absolutely impossible to get along with?”
“He’s a tough nut to crack,” my father says. “I remember those early years when Justin brought him around, I wasn’t sure the boy had more than ten words inside of him. Came to realize he just chooses his words with care, as well as choosing who he uses those words with.”
“I don’t seem to be on the very exclusive list.”
“May I ask … given that the marriage was of the, ah, convenient variety, what compelled you to not only move back to New York but to move in with Colin?”
“That,” I say, “is a great question for your stupid son. And sort of a long story.”
One of which I am all too happy to tell.
Chapter 13
Friday, September 4
“Greenwich and Christopher, please.”
My head snaps up in surprise, and I look across the cab at Colin, who’s just given the taxi driver an intersection that is most definitely not our apartment.
“What’s in Greenwich?” I ask.
“Dinner.” He leans his head on the headrest and closes his eyes.
“You didn’t eat at the party?”
He opens his eyes and meets my gaze. “Did you?”
“I had …” I think back to the cucumbers topped with crab and cream cheese, the nibble of carrot and hummus, a single bite of some sort of sesame beef in a lettuce cup.
Three hundred calories, maybe.
“No, not really,” I admit. Then I frown. “Wait, is that an invitation?”
“An invitation to what?” Colin’s eyes are closed again. “To dinner? I’m going to get something to eat. You’re welcome to join, or you’re welcome to have the cab make a second stop.”
“Wow. Romantic,” I mutter, looking out the window.
“Why would I be romantic?”
Apparently I really didn’t get enough food, because I’m feeling unusually irritable at his dismissive attitude, and I’d like to blame it on a good old-fashioned hanger.
“Hey,” I say, not bothering to soften the edge of my voice. “You’re the one who suggested we play husband and wife for the entire evening. Which, by the way, would have gone better had you bothered to talk to me even once. Or even stand beside me.”
“I didn’t exactly see you clamoring to stand by my side.”
“Yeah, well, I forgot my sweater,” I snap. “I wasn’t properly dressed to withstand the chill you emit anytime I’m near.”
“Well, next time bring your parka,” he snaps back. “If Immigration Services comes sniffing, we can’t afford to have an entire roomful of people notice we’re barely civil.”
“Look on the bright side, at least we’re doing a fantastic job of selling our impending divorce. And for what it’s worth, we don’t need to worry about convincing my parents. I talked to my dad. He already knows why we’re married. The real reasons.”
His eyes snap open and he turns toward me. “You told him?”
“No. He already knew.”
Colin frowns. “I’ve seen your father nearly every week for the past ten years, and he’s never indicated he knew of our arrangement.”
“Of course he knew,” I scoff. “Anyone who spent any amount of time with us back then knew it was hardly a love match. And I’m pretty sure he noticed that we literally spent zero time together.”
“For all they knew, I could have been sneaking into your bedroom when I came and stayed with your family on holidays. Or that we met every weekend to have conjugal visits.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Gross.”
“Gross?”
I laugh because he sounds genuinely affronted. “Oh, come on. You’re the one who just referred to any physical relationship between us as conjugal visits. What is this, prison? And you know full well we weren’t exactly setting off sparks back then. I could literally see your lip curl in disgust whenever I opened my mouth, and I never really dug the whole man bun, bearded homeless vibe you had going on.”