Holiday Hoax: A Fake Marriage Billionaire Romance (The Cartwright Family Book 1)
Holiday Hoax: Chapter 16

There were so many people in the house that I worked most of the day in my father’s office. Well, that was the plan.

I kept staring out the window into the garden, imagining what Georgia will look like in her dress. Then I became obsessed with finding her an outfit she’d love for tonight. I scoured the online sites of the boutiques in town, debating about what to get her. I finally narrowed it down, called my order in, went and picked everything up, then returned to the office.

I still can’t concentrate on the merger I need to close in the next few weeks. Every time I look at something I need to review or figure out, Georgia’s smile pops up in my mind.

I glance at my watch. It’s four thirty, so I give up. I go to the house and into our bedroom, expecting to find Georgia, but she isn’t there. Disappointment fills me, but I jump in the shower to get ready for our date.

When I’m ready, I text her.

Me: Where are you, Sunshine?

Georgia: I’m in the library playing board games with the girls.

The warm feeling in my stomach grows. It happens whenever I’m around Georgia, and I can’t seem to shake it.

I knew she’d fit in well with my family. Everybody adores her differently than I anticipated. It’s not that my family didn’t get along with my other fiancées, but something is different with Georgia. I can’t put my finger on it, but there’s no denying it.

Yet it isn’t just my family who loves her. She genuinely seems to care about my family too.

My family will kill me once they find out I’m no longer with her.

My stomach flips for the hundredth time today. A voice in my head says I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing, but I don’t know how to get out of this.

It’s not like Georgia doesn’t know what’s going on.

She agreed to it.

She negotiated like a rock star.

Pride mixes with distrust whenever I think about how she got me to agree to a million dollars.

She’s going to hate me when this is over.

I should stop this before it goes any further.

I stare at myself in the mirror, telling myself to push all these feelings away. I’ve made my own bed. Now I have to sleep in it.

I make my way through the house and get to the library. My heart stammers when I see Georgia. She’s wearing all the new items I got her, and she looks more gorgeous in them than I could have ever imagined. I give myself a high five for finally getting something right. And it’s another thing that my exes wouldn’t have gone for—it’s just too country-ish.

Except for Molly.

She would’ve worn some of it if I added something with bling to it, like a diamond-studded buckle or piece of new jewelry. But I’m learning that’s not Georgia. She doesn’t like flashy. But I already know she’ll still be the one everybody stares at in the room. Not only because she’s new in town and with me, but because it’s her. She lights up every room she steps into. No one can outshine her.

‘No!’ she declares as her smile grows.

‘I win!’ Emma cries out.

‘Ugh!’ Isabella groans.

My stomach flips faster and faster, and I question again why I feel so nervous. It’s not like I’ve not been on dates before.

This isn’t a real date.

It’s just to fool my family.

Is it?

Yes. Stay the course.

It’ll be good for us to get off this ranch for a night.

She really is beautiful.

It doesn’t matter. Stop confusing things, I reprimand myself.

I interrupt, ‘Are you ready to go?’

She glances at me, and my heart misses a beat. Then she holds out her two fingers. ‘Two seconds. Let me help the girls clean up.’

I blurt out, ‘Where’s your ring?’ My pulse creeps higher.

She freezes, then checks out her finger. Her cheeks grow red. She winces. ‘Sorry. I forgot it. Let me go get it.’ She rises.

My chest tightens again.

How did I get it so wrong?

She hates the ring. She won’t come right out and say it, but I know she does.

Georgia tells the girls, ‘You gals clean up while I get my ring. Okay?’

‘All right,’ Emma says.

‘On it,’ Isabella exclaims.

Georgia passes by me, and her sugary-rose perfume fills the air. She states, ‘Be right back.’

‘No rush,’ I tell her, then go over and help the girls clean up. I give each of my nieces a kiss on the head, inquiring, ‘Did you have a good day with Georgia?’

Emma nods. ‘She’s so much fun.’

‘We love her,’ Isabella claims.

I love her too.

Shit. What am I thinking?

Georgia bounces back into the room, chirping, ‘Got it,’ she holds her hand out.

The diamond glares on her finger. I stare at it, annoyed that it’s so blatantly obvious how incorrect it is for her.

‘What’s wrong?’ she questions.

‘Nothing. Ready?’

‘Yep.’

‘See you girls, later.’ I give them a wink, grab Georgia’s hand, and lead her out of the house.

We step outside, and she asks, ‘Where are you taking me tonight?’

I answer, ‘Simmers.’

‘What’s Simmers?’ she inquires.

I boast, ‘Only the best barbecue in town, but we’re going there for something else.’

She arches her eyebrows. ‘What would that be?’

I grin. ‘They also have award-winning pecan pie.’

Her face lights up brighter than I’ve seen it before. I pat myself on the back for getting one more thing right. She freezes and tilts her head. ‘Are you teasing me?’

‘Nope!’

‘Really? Are you going to have some?’

I cave, knowing it’ll make her happy. ‘I’ll have a couple of bites of yours.’

Satisfaction fills her expression. ‘Okay. That sounds good.’

I open the truck’s passenger door, and she gets in. I shut it and slip into the driver’s seat. I turn on the engine, then pull down the driveway and through the gate. I glance at her, quizzing, ‘How was your day with my sisters and mom?’

‘It was good,’ she answers.

‘Overwhelming?’

A tiny laugh escapes her. It’s another thing I can’t get enough of—the sound…the way her face glows…the joy I feel just from experiencing it. She admits, ‘There were some moments.’

‘But you got what you wanted?’ I prod, wanting her to have everything she wants for this wedding, even though she told me it will never be what she imagined.

I don’t know why that stings so badly, but it does. And I wish I could get yesterday’s conversation out of my mind, yet it only plays on repeat.

She answers, ‘I did. But your mom paid for everything, which I feel bad about.’

I grunt. ‘Don’t feel bad about it. What did you think? That you’d pay for your own dress? If my mom didn’t pay for it, I would have. But my mom loves that kind of stuff, so you made her happy.’

Georgia stays quiet a minute, then softly adds, ‘Well, it was extremely generous of her.’

More silence fills the cab. Why can’t I think of anything to say? I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans, then finally state, ‘Thanks for playing with Isabella and Emma.’

Georgia beams. ‘They’re adorable. I really love them.’

‘Yeah. They love you too,’ I answer, then turn on the street the restaurant’s on. I find a parking spot and turn off the engine. ‘Ready for the world’s best barbecue?’

She smiles. ‘Bring it!’

I exit the truck, go around, and open her door. Then I take her hand and lead her into the restaurant. It’s one of those restaurants where you seat yourself, so I grab the booth toward the back in a quieter location.

One of the longtime servers, Nancy, approaches us within a few seconds. She booms, ‘Well, Sebastian Cartwright, I heard you were in town.’

I groan inside. Of course she heard. The whole town’s probably talking about the fact I’m here. There’s no doubt they know about Georgia as well. I force myself to be nice. ‘Hey, Nancy, how are you?’

‘I’m as perfect as a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day,’ she replies.

I nod, then point to Georgia, announcing, ‘This is my soon-to-be wife, Georgia.’

Why am I so proud to say that?

I need to get my head straight. This isn’t real.

Nancy turns toward Georgia, claiming, ‘It’s so nice to meet you, darling. I heard you were in town from Sally. She said you were different from Sebastian’s other girls.’ Nancy wiggles her eyebrows.

Seriously? Heat creeps into my face.

Georgia gapes at her, speechless.

I snap out of it and firmly state, ‘Nancy, we’ll need some time to look at the menu. Could you give us a few minutes?’

She looks at me, disappointed she’s not getting any gossip, replying, ‘Okay, sure.’ She walks away.

I shake my head, declaring, ‘I’m sorry about that.’

Georgia shrugs. ‘It’s okay. I guess I understand why you have some issues coming back home.’

‘You have no idea,’ I mutter.

She gives me a look of pity, and I hate it.

Get back on track.

‘But you had a good time today, right? You had fun with my family?’

She assures me, ‘Of course I did. Also, Melanie texted me and said that she and her family will arrive Friday morning. That’s still okay, right?’

I grab her hand, caressing the top with my thumb. ‘Of course it is,’ I say. ‘Are there any other friends that you want to invite?’

She glances at our hands but doesn’t remove hers. Then she locks eyes with me. ‘No, I don’t have any friends left in Texas. They’ve all gone off to other states where their hometowns are or moved for jobs.’

I don’t hesitate. ‘I can fly them in for you if you want.’

She bites on her lip a few moments, then shakes her head. ‘No, that’s not necessary.’

My gut sinks. It’s another reminder she’s not marrying me for any other reason besides the fact that I needed a fake wife and she wanted a million dollars.

She slowly pulls her hand away, stabbing me in the gut. She reads the menu and questions, ‘What are you going to order?’

I don’t need to look at the menu. It’s my favorite place in town for barbeque, and it’s never changed since I was a kid. I answer, ‘They have a family platter with everything on it. I thought we could split it so you can try everything?’

‘Sure. That sounds great.’

I motion for Nancy and place the order.

She asks, ‘What do you two lovebirds want to drink?’

‘I’ll have a draft beer,’ I state, then look at Georgia, realizing I don’t even know what she likes to drink.

Is it champagne?

Rare wine?

I begin to freak out. This isn’t the type of place that offers anything expensive. It’s beer and very bad, cheap wine. The food’s amazing, and the beer is great, but the wine sucks. It’ll give you a headache for days.

Why did I bring her here?

I should have taken her to the country club.

Georgia surprises me and says, ‘I’ll have the same as Sebastian.’

‘You drink beer?’ I blurt out.

She jerks her head back. ‘Is there something wrong with that?’

‘No, not at all,’ I happily answer. I’ve never had a girlfriend who drank beer. They all thought it was disgusting and beneath them. In fact, two of them tried to get me to drink scotch, which I’m not a fan of and refused to do.

Nancy furrows her eyebrows, and her voice drops to the one she uses when she’s gagging for gossip. ‘How is it you’re getting married and don’t know that your fiancée drinks beer?’

I wince inside and retort, ‘Well, you can’t know everything about a person, can you? There’s always some mystery left, right?’

Georgia chimes in, ‘Yes. Sebastian’s right. Plus, I usually drink wine, especially at all the restaurants he takes me to.’

That’s my girl.

‘No offense, Nancy, because you know this is my favorite place, but my schedule doesn’t allow me to deviate away from the five-star restaurants in Dallas. The wine is the finest in the world and hard to avoid. You know what I’m saying?’ I add.

Nancy thinks for a minute, then agrees. ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right.’

I continue, ‘I’m really thirsty, Nancy. Do you mind bringing some water with the beer?’

‘Got it,’ she declares and leaves.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Nancy’s one of the biggest town gossips. The less I can speak with her, the better.

Georgia asks, ‘So what did you work on all day?’

I think about all the times I thought about her, wondering what she was doing or how I spent hours fretting over what to order her.

Don’t tell her that.

I tell a half-truth. ‘I worked on the merger.’

‘How’s it going?’

‘It’s coming along,’ I lie. I’m far from close to closing it. But it’ll eventually get done.

Georgia stares at me.

‘What?’ I uncomfortably ask.

‘Do you like what you do?’ she questions.

I don’t have to think about it. ‘I love it.’

‘That’s good. But don’t you miss your family, with you living in Dallas?’ she quizzes.

I open my mouth to say no, but then I shut it. Being home these last few days makes me realize how much I miss them. I should come back more to see them, especially my nieces and nephews. They’ve gotten so big, and I’m missing out on their lives. So I decide to be truthful, replying, ‘Yeah, I do miss them.’

‘So why don’t you come home more?’

I glance at Nancy, mumbling, ‘Pretty obvious, isn’t it?’

‘You shouldn’t let what other people say stop you from seeing your family. One day they might not be here. Trust me, I know,’ she points out.

Guilt and sadness wash over me. I haven’t thought too much about what it must be like for Georgia to have zero family left, but her statement hits me like a ton of bricks. Grief fills her face, and I’d do anything at this moment to take it away from her. Plus, I’d be devastated if anything happened to anyone in my family, including Evelyn. I finally agree, ‘You’re right.’

‘Yes. I am,’ she firmly asserts.

More shame hits me.

An awkward silence fills the air until she asks, ‘Sebastian, what do you want out of life?’

It’s another question that surprises me and leaves me speechless. How is it that she’s so much younger than me but seems to have her life together more than I do?

Before I met Georgia, I thought I was doing everything right. I was continuing to build my family empire, and everyone in Texas knew about me. I was happy.

That’s a lie.

I’ve not been happy in a long time.

She makes me feel happy.

‘Sebastian?’ she pushes.

I don’t know how to answer her question, so I flip it on her and tease, ‘I don’t know. What do you want? A husband, a dozen kids? Your cupcake store, and you’ll live happily ever after?’

Disgust mixed with anger fills her expression. She seethes, ‘What if I do? What’s wrong with that?’

My gut dives like I’m at the top of a hill and the ground just broke underneath me. I hold my hands in the air. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you.’

‘No?’

‘No. I swear I didn’t,’ I claim.

She challenges, ‘So you don’t want a wife who loves you? You don’t want any kids? You want to be by yourself forever and only make more money?’

My mouth turns dry. Is that how she sees me?

It’s what I’ve portrayed.

Is that what I want?

Yes.

No.

I could see that life with Georgia.

Christ. What’s happening to me?

She’s going to divorce me on January 2nd.

Annulment…not divorce…like it never happened.

This isn’t real.

Her blue eyes swirl with something I haven’t seen before. My heart thumps hard against my chest as I realize what’s growing more intense the longer she drills her gaze into mine.

She thinks I’m pathetic.

Am I?

I finally confess, ‘I used to, but then I learned it just wasn’t in the cards for me.’

‘Why isn’t it in the cards? You can have anything you want. You’re Sebastian Cartwright,’ she claims.

Nancy arrives with the beers and water. For once, I want to hug her for saving me. But my gratitude is short-lived when she lowers her voice and asks, ‘Did you hear about Matteo?’

My chest tightens. I almost tell her that I don’t care and to not talk to me the rest of the time we’re here. But curiosity kills the cat, and I’m apparently the cat. I can’t resist and fall into her trap, responding, ‘No.’

Nancy glances to both sides of her, then leans down even farther. ‘They lost the ranch. She couldn’t stop racking up debt.’ She cocks her eyebrows, waiting for my reaction.

A mixture of emotions fills me. On the one hand, I feel bad for Matteo. I warned him. Yet the bad person in me feels some satisfaction knowing that she did to him exactly what I told him she would.

‘Nancy, order up,’ the cook calls out.

‘Back soon,’ she states, pats me on the shoulder, and leaves.

Georgia tilts her head, her eyes turning to slits, questioning, ‘Who’s Matteo?’

I take a big gulp of my beer, swallow, and finally inform her, ‘My ex-best friend.’

Her eyes widen. ‘Why is he your ex-best friend? Why isn’t he still your best friend?’

I shift in my seat, tapping my pint glass.

‘Sebastian?’ she softly inquires.

‘It’s hard to stay friends with someone when they marry your ex-fiancée, who was also your high school sweetheart that only wanted you for your money.’

Georgia gapes, then recovers, and a look of pity crosses her expression. I hate it. She quietly asks, ‘He married Molly?’

‘Yep.’ I down half my beer.

Georgia puts her hand on mine. ‘That must have hurt.’

‘I don’t need your pity,’ I tell her.

‘Sympathy for others isn’t the same as pity, Sebastian.’

I think about her statement. Is that true? I tell myself to google the difference between sympathy and pity because I don’t know if it is. So I stare at her hand on mine.

My silence must be a dead giveaway for my thoughts because Georgia adds, ‘Sympathy implies a deeper, more personal level of concern…because you care about the person. Pity is just an expression of sorrow. So what’s wrong with sympathy?’

Once again, my little peach has me stumped. I decide she’s way smarter than me and ask, ‘Can we change the subject?’ Then I hold my beer out and say, ‘Cheers.’

She sighs, then clinks my glass and takes a sip. She swallows and informs me, ‘Hey, Isabella has a surprise for you tonight.’

The previous night I had makeup all over my face. By the time Isabella had to go to bed, I looked like a drag queen. I groan. ‘Do I want to know?’

Georgia cringes, then answers, ‘You get to be the first guest in her nail salon.’

I groan, then chuckle. ‘I guess it’s good I’m keeping you out past her bedtime.’

‘You are?’

‘Yep.’

‘We’re going to be here all night?’ she asks, glancing around.

I chuckle again. ‘Nope.’

She tilts her head, and I wish I were sitting beside her instead of across from her. She asks, ‘Well, where are you taking me?’

‘On the best date ever.’

She bites her lip.

I take another sip of beer.

She says, ‘You aren’t going to tell me where?’

I lean closer. ‘If you slide over here and give me a kiss, I’ll tell you.’

She pretends to pout.

I shrug but wish she’d sit her pert little everything next to me. I offer, ‘Okay. Have it your way.’

‘Tell me,’ she begs.

I shake my head. ‘You’ll see later, Sunshine.’