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Breaker - A Fake Boyfriend Romance (Criminal Passions Book 3) Page 3
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“Is that right?” asked Dad. “Who is this guy?”
“Well, you’ve already met him. Gimme a sec, okay?”
My heart racing, I got up and made my way back over to the bar, hoping against hope that Caleb was still there.
To my total relief, he was. His eyes lifted as he watched me approach, an expression of curiosity on his handsome face.
“Hey,” he said as I stopped in front of him. “What’s up?”
“Listen,” I said. “I’ve got a huge, huge favor to ask. And you can’t say no.”
He grinned. “I’m all ears.”
Chapter 4
Caleb
When Sierra strolled up to me, that expression of concern and determination all over her face, I knew whatever she had to say would be a real treat.
“What’s up?” I asked before taking a sip of my cocktail.
She sighed, as if trying to figure out where to begin. I couldn’t wait to hear it. The grift I’d imagined running on her had never gotten beyond the vague, planning stage, but with her coming right over to me and asking for my help, I knew I’d have to be an idiot not to plan something.
“Okay, my parents.”
“They seem nice. A little blue-blood, maybe. But what about them?”
She nodded toward the seat next to mine, as if asking permission to sit.
“Of course,” I said.
She sat down. “So…here’s the deal. I just dropped out of med school. And my parents really, really want me to be in med school.”
So there it was—rich girl wasn’t playing by her parents’ rules.
“Sure,” I said. “And let me guess, you just told them and they’re not taking it well.”
“More or less. And to make it all go down smoother, I kinda-sorta threw in a lie on top of it.”
“And that lie would be?”
“I told them I was dating some successful businessman.” She shook her head in disbelief. “What the hell was I thinking?”
“You were thinking they wouldn’t be as fearful for your future if you at least had a safety net underneath you. It might’ve been a lie, but it was a good one. But you don’t have a successful boyfriend, right?”
I knew the answer. But I needed her to come out with all the details, as quickly as possible.
“I don’t, of course. And I told them you were him.”
It took all the restraint I had not to bust out laughing right then and there. It was perfect, so perfect.
But the moment I caught the real worry on her face, my amusement at the situation faded. She was a real person, having a real problem. I might’ve been planning on her being my next mark, but I could still feel for the girl.
“That was a risky move,” I said. “What if I’d have been gone when you came over?”
“I know, it was so silly. I’m not really cut out for lying, if you can’t already tell.”
“There are worse traits to have. So, you told them I was your boyfriend, and that I was some successful businessman. What’s the next part to all of this?”
“The next part is that…well, I want you to come meet them and play pretend for me.”
“And you think I’d be up to something like that?”
Sure, lying for me came as naturally as a dolphin doing a backflip. So I had no problem doing it for her. But I wanted Sierra to really feel like I was doing a huge, huge favor for her. Part of running a successful con is getting the other person to feel like they’re in debt to you.
See, people are hardwired to be reciprocal. It’s the whole reason why a store at the mall will offer samples out front. They give you some food, and you feel like you owe something, which makes you more likely to come in and spend your money to even things out.
This is the way you think in my business. And it had worked out pretty damn well so far.
“I mean, if it’s not asking too much of you.” She glanced away and shook her head. “God, this is all so insane. How the hell did I get wrapped up in something like this?”
Now was the time for a little reassurance. I put my hand on hers.
“You’re right—it’s kind of insane. But you want your parents to still be on good terms with you, right? Not like you’re doing this to get money out of them or something.”
That was my job, after all.
“Right,” she said. “I just want them not to worry about me. I’m going to figure out a good life for myself, but in the meantime…”
“In the meantime, you need some handsome, charming man to pretend to be your boyfriend.” I grinned, letting her know I was messing around.
She glanced down at my hand, not taking hers away—a good sign.
“Yeah. You don’t have to do it, obviously. But it would be a huge help.”
I let the silence hang in the air, giving her the impression I was really thinking it over. In reality, I’d had my mind made up from the moment she’d started talking.
“I’ll do it,” I said.
Her blue eyes lit up. Man, she was beautiful.
“Are you serious? You will?”
“I will.”
She threw her arms around me, pressing her body against mine. “Thank you so, so, so much! I don’t know how I’ll make it up to you, but I will, I promise.”
“Don’t even worry about that,” I said. “We can figure out the details later.”
Her eyes flashed again. “The details! Okay, we need to get our story straight.” She fixed her face into an expression of tight concentration. How about…we met in college, and—”
I raised my palm, cutting her off.
“A two-person lie like this…it’s like a dance. One person needs to lead, and the other needs to follow. So what we’re going to do is let me take the lead.”
“Are you serious?”
“Totally serious. We try to get the details hammered out and we’ll do nothing but get them mixed up when it’s showtime. Trust me. So, I’ll come up with the information, and you follow along. I dance, you lead, right?”
She didn’t seem convinced, but I knew what I was talking about.
“Okay.” She nodded. “As long as you know what you’re doing.”
“I most definitely know what I’m doing.” I stood up and threw back the rest of my drink. “Now, let’s go meet your parents.”
She took in a slow breath, steeling herself. “Okay, let’s do this.”
I reached down and took her hand into mine. Sure, we were just pretending but man, did it feel nice. I needed to get my head in the game, to realize that this was one of the first steps in what might end up being one of my best cons yet.
“Wait,” she said, stopping. “Isn’t there some stuff you need to know about me?”
“I told you,” I said. “I’ve got it all taken care of.”
“Right. But what if they ask you my birthday? My favorite color? Where I grew up? That’s all stuff you need to know, right? You can’t just make it up.”
She had a good point. I’d gotten so wrapped up in the con that I was skipping over some very basic steps.
We sat back down.
“They’re going to be wondering why you were gone so long,” I reminded her.
“I know, I know. But this’ll make me feel better. The only thing worse than lying is getting caught in a lie, right?”
I knew that better than anyone.
“So let’s hear it,” I said. “Tell me what you think I need to know.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, as if accessing the deepest reaches of her mind.
“I was born on August twenty-first. I’m twenty-four. And my favorite color is magenta—don’t ask why. I grew up here in Baltimore, and I hate Italian food.”
“How can anyone hate Italian food? It’s pretty much the best.”
“I have my reasons,” she said with a small smile. “What else? I go to—went to—Johns Hopkins for pre-med, I like to watch trashy reality TV. What else?”
“I got it,” I said.
She ra
ised an eyebrow. “You got it?”
“I got it.”
“Then say it back to me.
“Your birthday’s August twenty-first. You’re twenty-four, which means that you’re turning twenty-five this year, and I’ve already got big plans for your birthday, even though you don’t like to make a big deal of it. You like magenta and always get annoyed when you tell people and they act like it’s weird. You grew up in Baltimore, but have always wondered what it might be like to live in LA. You hate Italian food, which I don’t get, and we always bump heads because I suggest it for dinner forgetting that you’re not crazy about it. And I like to ask you if you’re fine just eating breadsticks while I get something else, and you always tell me breadsticks aren’t a dinner. How’s that?”
She said nothing, standing there with her eyes wide open.
“That’s…really good. And all correct. I mean, aside from the stuff about me and you that you just made up.”
I flashed her a smile. “See? I told you I can handle this stuff.”
“How are you so good at this? Are you an actor or something?”
That was a whole other thing.
“I’m an entrepreneur. But we can talk about that later.”
“Later?”
“Later. Because after we’re all done with this, we’re going out for drinks.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could get a word out, I had her by the hand and on our way to around the bar to the main dining floor.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “One more thing.”
“What’s that?”
“We’re a couple, so don’t get surprised when I lay a little PDA on you in front of your parents.”
Her cheeks tinged red in a way that was totally adorable.
“Oh, okay,” she said. “I’ll do my best. And my parents’ names are Dan and Mary, by the way.”
“Got it. Just leave this to me. You’re going to find that you picked the most capable man for this particular job.”
“I sure as hell hope so.”
It was going to be a piece of cake. I was already looking forward to the drink with Sierra after it was all over.
We approached the table, Dan and Mary locking eyes onto me as soon as we stepped up to it.
“Mom, Dad,” said Sierra, trying to make herself sound enthusiastic and not out-of-her-mind scared. “I want you to meet Caleb.”
I stuck out my hand, all smiles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
Tonight was going to be very, very interesting.
Chapter 5
Sierra
My heart was beating like a hummingbird’s when I came over to sit down with my parents. Dad looked Caleb up and down with those scanning, skeptical eyes that he reserved for every guy who’d ever shown interest in me.
“This is him?” asked Dad. “This is your boyfriend?”
“The one you were talking to at the bar?” asked Mom.
“The one and the same,” said Caleb, still all charming smiles.
Dad regarded him for another long moment, during which I wondered if he might clock Caleb right then and there.
Finally, Dad stuck out his own hand and shook Caleb’s.
“Dan Finch,” he said. And that was it. No “pleased to meet you” or anything like that. He was icy, and I knew right away that we’d have an upward hill to climb with this dinner.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Finch,” said Caleb. “And a pleasure to meet you too, Mrs. Finch.”
He stepped over to Mom and gave her a warm hug, followed by a polite kiss on the cheek. Mom was all about formality, and the pleased look on her face suggested she was more than fine with this.
I sat down, Caleb and my parents doing the same.
“Okay,” said Dad. “I’m not going to waste any time getting right to the important question—why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?”
“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Caleb responded smoothly. “We thought it’d be more fun this way.”
“And I wanted to tell you about my plans, just the three of us. If you were going to get mad, I didn’t want Caleb here when it happened.”
“So,” said Caleb. “Does this mean you told them?”
The waiter approached the table.
“Go ahead,” said Dad. “Whatever you like, Caleb.”
Caleb took a look at Dad, then back at the waiter. “The Wagyu steak, medium rare.”
“A fine choice,” said Dad as the waiter left us.
“Nothing like a good cut of Wagyu beef,” said Caleb. “Pair that with some red wine and it’s about the most perfect meal you can imagine, right?”
Dad nodded slowly, clearly still trying to size up Caleb. Dad was an old-fashioned kind of guy who liked his steak and whiskey and all the rest. Caleb going for the meat and not the salad surely won him some points. Maybe minor, but Caleb was going to need all the advantages he could get.
“And the one here is fantastic,” said Dad. “You’ll enjoy it.”
His expression turned serious once again. “So let me get this straight—you dropped out of Johns Hopkins? Sierra, that’s one of the best med schools in the country. People would kill to even have a chance at getting in there. And I didn’t even have to pull any strings—you got accepted on your own merit. I knew you were capable of it, but it’s still impressive as hell. And you’re throwing that all away?”
“I’m not throwing it away,” I said. “I’m giving the chance to someone who actually has passion for being a doctor.”
“But I thought that was what you wanted,” said Dad. “Ever since you were a little girl.”
“That’s what you thought I wanted,” I said. “It’s always been your dream for me. And I gave it my all. But Dad…it’s not where I want my life to go. I don’t want to be a doctor.”
Dad said nothing, processing my words. He sipped his wine, and I wondered what he might say next.
“Mr. Finch,” said Caleb, “when Sierra and I met, she hadn’t decided to do this yet. And when she finally told me what she wanted, I made sure to talk to her about it, to make sure she knew what she was doing.”
“Is that right?” asked Dad. “You tried to talk her out of it?”
“Of course I did. Back when I was a student at Harvard Business, I hit a wall. A year into the program and I started to feel burnt out, like it wasn’t the path for me.”
“Harvard Business?” asked Mom. “You went there?”
“I did. And like Sierra I didn’t have anyone pulling strings to get me in. I got a full scholarship, focused, and worked hard all the way. Anyway, when I got burnt out, I felt like she did, thinking I might want to drop out.”
“But you worked through it?” asked Dad.
“I did. Took me some serious thinking about what direction I wanted for my life, but I eventually got there.”
“Then maybe that’s where she is,” said Mom. “Just needs some time to think.”
Caleb shook his head. “When I hit that period, I needed that, sure. But in talking to Sierra, having conversation after conversation about what she really wanted, I knew there was something different to her feelings.”
“So,” said Dad. “You tried to convince her to go back to med school?”
“I did. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that Sierra’s as smart as they come—being a doctor seems like a natural fit for someone like her.”
“You’re right about that,” said Dad. “It’d be a damn shame to let a brain like hers go to waste.”
“And that’s not going to happen.”
My hand was on the table, and Caleb took it, giving it a firm squeeze. I couldn’t believe how well he was selling this whole thing. As he spoke there was passion in his eyes, and I almost started to forget that every word out of his mouth was a total lie.
And his hand on mine. It felt…nice. Him being about as hot as they came was at the forefront of my mind, as much as I knew there were other, more important matters to be concerned with
.
“And now she’s living with you?” asked Mom. “How long have you two been dating, anyway?”
Caleb smiled. “Three months, two weeks, and five days. I remember our first date like it was yesterday, the two of us meeting at the harbor. We’d just planned on getting a drink and that was it, but one drink turned into a few, followed by a walk along the water… It was something else.”
How was he doing this? It was amazing to watch—the man was a total bullshit artist.
“You don’t think this is a little soon for moving in together?” asked Dad.
I decided it was time for me to speak up. “Maybe it’s a little soon, but we knew it was the right time.”
“And didn’t you two only date for a few months before getting engaged?” asked Caleb.
Mom smiled. “That’s right. Dan proposed after four months.”
Wait, how the hell did Caleb know that? Did he have some file on my parents that he was looking at underneath the table?
There was something about him, something more than he was letting on. But trying to puzzle the man out could wait for a later time—at that moment he was giving an Oscar-worthy performance.
“And it’s a beautiful story,” said Caleb. “More importantly, it shows that when you meet the right person, you know right away. If you love someone, you love someone. It’s as simple as that.”
He took my hand again and gave it another warm squeeze. I couldn’t believe it—he was almost convincing me that we were a couple.
“So,” said Dad. “Tell me what you both have in mind. You’re planning on living with Caleb while you figure out what you want to do?”
“Actually,” said Caleb, “we’ve already figured out what we want to do.”
“You have?” asked Mom.
Wait, what?
“We have. While we’ve been living together, I noticed that Sierra has a hell of a talent for cooking. And more than that, she’s got a great mind for business—she’s looked over some of my work before and can spot errors and details from a mile away.”
Now he was really getting into risky territory. I was a decent cook, sure. And maybe he was right about me having an eye for detail and… Wait, how did he know all this stuff?