Faking Ms. Right: A Hot Romantic Comedy (Dirty Martini Running Club Book 1)
Faking Ms. Right: Chapter 26

In order to keep the engagement party from getting terribly out of control, I’d convinced my dad to hold it here, at my condo. I had plenty of space for a small, intimate gathering—and not enough space for a huge guest list. After some gentle prodding from Everly—oh, Richard, wouldn’t it be adorable to have it here?—he’d agreed.

Which meant the morning of the party, I came home from the gym to chaos.

People were everywhere. Moving furniture, hanging up decorations, stringing lights. There was a caterer in the kitchen, a woman standing on a stepladder in the living room, apparently changing light bulbs, and what looked like a small construction crew assembling a portable stage where my dining table used to be.

And in the middle of it all was my father.

He looked good, I had to admit that. His cancer treatments had left him pale and fatigued, but today he seemed healthier than I’d seen him in weeks. Color in his face, straight back, energy in his movements. He had a clipboard tucked under one arm and was talking to someone on his phone.

I waited, hands in my shorts pockets, while people bustled around me, transforming my home into… well, it was hard to say at this point what it was turning into. At the moment, it looked like a party store had exploded in the penthouse.

Dad hung up and pocketed his phone. “Oh good, Shep, you’re home. What do you think so far?”

I glanced around. “I’m sure it’ll be great when it’s ready.”

“I think so too.” He smiled, and damn if there wasn’t that gleam in his eyes that Everly had mentioned. She was right, it was hard to resist. “By tonight, you won’t recognize the place. It’ll be completely transformed.”

Two men walked by, carrying a tall piece of plywood.

“What’s that?”

Dad watched them take it out to the balcony. “Oh, that must be for the photo booth.”

“Photo booth?”

“Of course. But you should go or I’m going to spoil all the best surprises.”

I tried not to groan. Surprises? “Um, Dad, what surprises? I thought we were keeping this low-key.”

He patted me on the back. “Don’t worry. You and Everly are going to love it.”

“You didn’t plan a fireworks show, did you?”

“No, nothing like that.” He flipped through the pages on his clipboard. “I couldn’t get the permits on such short notice.”

“Wait, what? You mean you tried to plan a fireworks show?”

“You should really make yourself scarce, Shep. You can come back when it’s party time.”

“I live here. Where am I supposed to go?”

He shrugged. “Go shower and just stay in your room. Or your office. We aren’t using it.”

I looked around at the mess of decorations, boxes, and packing material. It was probably best if I stayed out of the way.

“All right, Dad. I’ll see you later tonight.”

He was already distracted, wandering off to direct someone setting up a table.

I went back to my bedroom and checked my messages. Everly was with her girlfriends for the day. Something about getting ready together. I didn’t know why they needed seven hours to get dressed for a party, but I knew better than to question it.

After a shower, I got dressed and went to my office. I shut the door to dampen the noise from the party crew, and got to work.

Shortly before the party was set to begin, I emerged from my office. I’d barely been out all day. Dad had brought me takeout for lunch to keep me from coming out and seeing the decorations. Now, there was a thick black curtain hanging in the entrance to the hallway that led to my office, guest room, and master suite. It was there to keep guests from coming into the more private spaces of my home—a gesture I appreciated—but it also kept me from seeing what my dad had done.

I went back to my room to change, unsure as to how I felt about this whole thing. I’d been pushing the reality of the lie I was living to the back of my mind—forcefully. Justified the charade by telling myself this party was a harmless distraction for my father.

But guilt jabbed at me, poking holes in my logic. He’d gone to a lot of trouble to celebrate an engagement that wasn’t real. Not only that, he’d put in the effort because he was genuinely excited about my supposed upcoming marriage.

Coming clean to him was not going to be easy. And this party was making it worse. I hadn’t counted on that when I’d agreed to it. Which really just meant I’d ignored the truth.

Plus, I’d never been a fan of parties. Especially when I was at the center of them. It was the sort of attention I preferred to avoid. Standing at the head of the boardroom or in front of investors was one thing. I was no stranger to being a leader. But I’d never particularly enjoyed social attention, and as one of the guests of honor at tonight’s party, I was about to be subjected to a great deal of it.

Everly texted to say she was on her way over. An inexplicable jolt of excitement ran through me. What was she wearing? I’d let her talk me into a vintage-style suit with a double-breasted vest and a dark gray fedora. It fit my dad’s theme without looking like a cheap costume. Hell, I made this look good.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. I adjusted my hat, then answered the door to replace my dad—or a nineteen-twenties mobster version of my dad. He wore a pinstripe suit with a white tie, a vintage timepiece in his breast pocket. He had a black fedora, a fat cigar pinched between his teeth, and a cane that he tapped against the floor a few times.

“What do you think?” he asked, grinning at me around his unlit cigar.

“You look great, Dad.”

He smoothed down the front of his jacket. “Thanks, son. You look fantastic. Ready to go down to the lobby?”

“The lobby?”

“You’re meeting Everly downstairs. And don’t look when you come out. I want you to get the full effect when you come back.”

“All right. I won’t look.”

He led me down the hall and through the curtain. I kept my eyes down as I made my way quickly to the front door, only catching glimpses of black and gold.

“The first guests will be here any minute, but take your time,” he said, ushering me out the door. “The couple of honor should make an entrance.”

“Right. We’ll be up in a little bit, then.”

I went downstairs to wait for Everly, wishing my building had a bar in the lobby. Sitting on a leather couch, I crossed one ankle over my knee and swiped through my emails. People came through the lobby—other residents as well as party guests—but I didn’t pay attention to them. There was only one person I really cared about seeing tonight.

The doors opened again and three women walked in, all dressed for the party. Everly’s friend Nora was on the left, in a deep red fringe dress and a sequined headband in her long dark hair. Hazel was on the right, wearing a similar dress in black, with long black gloves and a pair of glasses perched on her nose.

Between them, dressed in a stunning silver fringe dress, was Everly.

Her blond hair was curled in a vintage wave and her sequined headband had white feathers on one side. Thin straps showed her graceful shoulders and her lips were painted deep red.

I stood, awestruck. She looked incredible. It reminded me of the surprise I’d felt the night of the gala. She’d stunned me in that red dress, and here she was, doing it again.

She was so fucking beautiful.

Her smile was radiant, those red lips begging to be kissed. She stopped, her eyes landing on me, and her smile grew.

“There you are,” she said, breaking away from her friends. She touched the lapels of my jacket. “Don’t you look handsome.”

“You’re stunning,” I said, my eyes sweeping over her. Glancing over at her friends, I nodded. “Ladies.”

“Hi, Shepherd,” Nora said with a little wave.

Everly looked over her shoulder. “You can go on up. We’ll be there in a few.”

“Great. See you up there.”

Her friends headed for the elevator, arm in arm. I turned my attention back to Everly.

“Do you like it?” She twisted her hips a little, making all the silver fringes swirl around her.

“You’re both insanely sexy and adorable as hell in that thing.”

“Thank you. I love this suit on you. It’s very debonair.”

“I actually don’t hate it.”

She patted my chest. “You’re a good sport. Let’s go have some fun.”

Fun might be a stretch, but I didn’t object to spending the evening with this gorgeous woman at my side.

We rode the elevator up to the top floor. I traced my thumb along the back of her neck, feeling her soft skin.

She tilted her face up. “How’s my lipstick?”

Looking at those bright red lips made me want to kiss the lipstick right off them. “Perfect.”

With my hand on the small of her back, I led her into what had once been my condo. Now it looked like a glamorous nineteen-twenties speakeasy. Black tablecloths with gold accents. Vases with plumes of black feathers. Shimmering lights draped across the ceiling. A jazz trio played on the stage in the dining room and a guy in costume tended the bar that now stood in my living room.

My dad seemed to appear out of nowhere. He was still in his suit and hat, but had left his cane and cigar somewhere. “Everly, look at you. I knew this theme would be perfect. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Richard. This is incredible. I love your suit.”

He draped a white feather boa around her shoulders. “There. Perfect. I have one for all the ladies.”

A waiter approached with a tray of champagne. Dad handed us each a glass, then took one for himself. I was going to need something stronger, but for now, I held my glass while Dad beamed at us.

“A toast,” he said, raising his glass. “To my son and his beautiful bride.”

Everly’s eyes met mine, mirroring the hint of guilt I felt. We clinked our glasses with Dad’s, then drank.

“You two go have fun,” he said. “I’ll stay here and greet the guests. I have more boas to hand out.”

Everly slipped her hand in mine, then downed the rest of her champagne. I liked where she was going with that and finished mine too.

“Bar?” she asked.

“Yes.”

Guests mingled amid the sparkling décor, drinking champagne—there was a champagne fountain next to the bar—or prohibition era cocktails. Ethan and Grant were already here, dressed in matching pinstripe suits. They stood talking to Everly’s girlfriends. Some old friends of my dad had come—people I’d known since I was a kid. He’d also invited some of our neighbors here in the building—people either he or Everly had made friends with. They were so much more sociable than I was. Before they’d moved in, I hadn’t known any of my neighbors.

I handed Everly her sidecar and took a sip of my old fashioned. The bartender was good. Everly glanced toward the door and smiled. “My sisters are here.”

Dad was draping feather boas—a red one and a blue; apparently he had multiple colors—around the necks of two women. One had long wavy hair and wore a bright red dress. The other had to be Everly’s sister. There was a strong family resemblance, although this woman’s hair was darker and cut shorter.

Everly waved them over, then hugged them both. “I’m so glad you came. Shepherd, this is my sister, Annie, and her wife Miranda.”

“Nice to meet you.” I shook hands with both of them, then slipped my hand around Everly’s waist to draw her closer.

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Annie said. Her eyes flicked back and forth between me and Everly a few times.

Ethan approached with a smile. I could see Grant from the corner of my eye, still chatting—laughing, to be specific—with Everly’s friends.

“Nice party, Shep.” He patted my shoulder.

“Dad outdid himself.”

“He always does.”

I introduced Ethan to Annie and Miranda. After some small talk, Ethan realized he and Grant lived just a few streets away from Everly’s sister, on Queen Anne. When Annie and Miranda mentioned they’d remodeled their house, the three of them launched into an animated conversation about home renovations.

Everly and I wandered around for a while, sipping our drinks and chatting with guests. Dad had either run out of boas, or had decided all the guests were here, because I saw him dancing with Svetlana in front of the stage.

I wondered why she was still pretending to date my father. It had been over two months. Whether or not she believed Everly and I were a real couple, she had to have realized by now that I wasn’t remotely interested in her. If revenge was her motive, she was certainly taking it to an extreme. And if it was money she was after, my dad hadn’t been treating her to the finer things. He couldn’t. They spent more of their time together here than going out, and as far as I knew, he wasn’t buying her gifts. She wasn’t flaunting new jewelry or designer handbags. No fancy getaways.

Was it possible I’d been wrong about her? Maybe she’d been interested in my dad for who he was from the start. Or perhaps it had started as a way to get to me—or get back at me—but she’d developed real feelings for him along the way?

The idea was both disturbing and oddly comforting. I hated the idea that she’d been using my father this whole time. If she hadn’t been, if the two of them had actually found something together, it would save him from getting hurt.

Everly dragged me into the photo booth. I thought my hat was enough of a prop, but she shoved a giant mustache on a stick at me and insisted I hold it up. She grabbed a gold and black fan and a cardboard cutout champagne bottle.

We looked ridiculous. But by the third photo, we were both laughing.

A strange thing happened as the party wore on. I realized I was having fun. We tried cocktails we’d never had, posed for more silly photos, joked and laughed with our siblings, and danced together to the admittedly very good jazz trio. As I spun Everly around on the dance floor, her silver dress twirling, I felt a freedom I’d only ever experienced on stage.

Playing with my band, I hid behind anonymity. I let the other guys work the crowd. I was just there to let go. To lose myself in the music. But here I was, in my own home, surrounded by people who knew me as Shepherd Calloway, billionaire CEO. And I felt that same sense of freedom. I laughed and smiled and danced.

The band started a new song and I pulled Everly close. I lifted her chin and leaned down, kissing her. Not because we were supposed to. Not to sell everyone in the room on the veracity of our relationship. I kissed her because, in that moment, there was nowhere else I’d rather be, nothing else I’d rather be doing. And no one else I’d rather be doing it with.