“Your beautiful fake bride, you mean.”
There's a moment's pause on the line before he speaks again. “Of course,” he says, clearing his throat. “But, we have to sell it, right?”
“Right,” I say slowly. “We have to sell it, I suppose.”
I wonder about that pause in his voice though – wonder if it means something or if I'm just reading too much into it. And then I think about what Valerie said – about Brady liking me a lot – and what he'd said at the restaurant when he first pitched this crazy idea to me, about me being beautiful.
All of those thoughts swirl around in my head and I have to wonder if maybe, Brady actually does like me. But, that's crazy, isn't it? He's a playboy. He likes pretty, supermodel kind of women – not women like me. And this – this is just a business arrangement. I tell myself that everything, the clothes, the furniture, and the car are all just business expenses to him.
I clear my throat. “So,” I say, trying to push all those thoughts out of my head. “What is our grand adventure today?”
“Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?”
I laugh. “I think I've had enough surprises the last few days.”
“Nonsense, darl – sorry – Amanda,” he says. “The surprises are just beginning. Now, think you can be here by eleven?”
“Ummm – I'm not sure where here is,” I say and start fumbling with the GPS unit.
I've never been all that great with technology, and the GPS unit is doing nothing more than making me feel even more inadequate. Brady, apparently hearing my struggle through the phone, laughs softly.
“Press the button on the side,” he says. “The one marked number one.”
I look at the unit and then press the button. A map to what I assume is Brady's house appears with the route already highlighted.
“Just listen to the little woman inside the box,” Brady says. “And you'll be just fine.”
“Umm – okay,” I say. “I guess I'll see you soon then.”
“Lookin' forward to it.”
He clicks off the line, leaving me staring at the GPS unit like an absolute idiot.
“Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I say.
I put the car in gear and pull away from the curb – and let the little woman in the box guide my way.
Chapter Seventeen
Brady
“Hey, you made it,” I say.
She smiles and I feel my breath catch in my throat. “The little woman in the box is actually pretty helpful.”
“Glad to hear it,” I say. “Wow, you look – amazing.”
Color rushes to her face and she smiles. “Thank you,” she says. “The dress – all the dresses – are beautiful. I don't even know how to thank you.”
“You don't need to,” he says. “But, you're welcome all the same, darli – sorry – Amanda.”
I smile, knowing it's going to take a massive shift in my brain to stop using all the words and phrases that are a part of my normal vocabulary.
She really does look amazing in that dress though. The color seems to complement her perfectly and she is absolutely stunning in it. Amanda doesn't have a lot of makeup on and has a natural sexiness about her that is incredibly appealing.
Amanda looks around at the house with eyes that are wide with wonder.
“This house,” she says. “It's – gorgeous.”
I give her a smile. “Thank you,” I say. “It's where we hang our hats.”
My parents, being who they were, didn't buy one of those ostentatious places you see some of the rich and famous buy. I'm not going to lie, it's a nice home, but it's definitely not one of those gaudy mansions.
It's a two-story, red brick gothic style home. It's got seven bedrooms, though most of them are unused. With her children grown and gone, I finally talked Miss Delia into moving into the guest house that sits on the several acres of land behind the house. There didn't seem to be any sense in her paying rent on a place when she's here most of the time anyway.
I lead her into the house where her eyes grow even wider. Everything, from the floor to the moulding is done in dark wood and has a very elegant, yet simple feel about it. My mother was fantastic at decorating a home. Although large, it still manages to feel – homey. A curved staircase leads from the entryway to the upper floors where the bedrooms are, and to the left is a formal sitting room.
Family pictures and artwork line the walls, as well as an assortment of plants and flowers. Miss Delia believes that plants put off good, healthy energy, so I let her do her thing. I've actually come to like her assortment of vegetation. Sort of adds to that homey feel, I think.
“This place,” she says, “everything about it is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I say. “We like it. And I hope that at some point, you will too. Our home is now your home.”
“Thank you, Brady.”
I give her a warm, genuine smile. There is something about Amanda that compels me. I know that this is a business arrangement, but there is something about her that draws me to her. Earlier, on the phone though, when she said, “fake wife,” I felt a small stab of pain in my heart. It's insane. I know it's insane. We barely even know each other. But there's something deep inside of me that wants to get to know more about her. Everything about her, actually. There's something inside of me that wants to see if maybe, there's something more there.
She's unlike anybody I've ever met before and I find her absolutely intoxicating. I'm incredibly intrigued by her and the more time I spend with her, the more time I want to spend with her. I know it's crazy. I know it's insane. But – it’s there, all the same.
But just seeing the way she looks at me, I can tell she doesn't feel the same. I can tell for her, this is a business arrangement and nothing more. Which means I need to rein in the thoughts and feelings that are rampaging through my head.
“So,” she says. “Is it time to unveil your big surprise?”
“Almost,” I say. “There's somebody I want you to meet first.”
She looks at me curiously and then I see comprehension dawning on her face. Quickly following comprehension is a flash of nervousness. But she reels it in quickly.
“Miss Delia,” I call. “Can you bring Nicholas in now?”
Miss Delia is holding Nicholas' hand when they come in from the kitchen. He looks from me to Amanda and gives her a nervous little smile – not unlike the nervous little smile that had flashed across Amanda's face a moment ago. Nicholas clings to my leg, hiding his face. Miss Delia gives me a questioning look. I've never brought the women I date around to meet Nicholas before and she seems a little uncertain.
“Amanda,” Miss Delia says, recovering her Southern charm quickly. “It's very nice to meet you.”
“It's wonderful to meet you too,” Amanda replies.
I squat down and look my son in the eye. “Nicholas, this is Amanda,” I say. “This is Daddy's friend. The one I told you about. Can you say hi?”
Nicholas looks over to Amanda and takes a tentative step toward her. Amanda bends at the waist to put her eyes at his level and holds out her hand.
“Hi, Nicholas,” she says. “Your dad's told me a lot about you. It's really nice to meet you.”
Nicholas gives her a toothy grin and steps forward, a little bolder, and takes her hand in his, giving her a proper handshake. That's my boy, he's got great Southern manners and charm – mostly thanks to Miss Delia's tutelage, I'm ashamed to admit.
“So, who's ready for a little adventure,” I say.
Nicholas squeals and jumps up and down. “Me, me, me!” he cries.
Amanda is looking at him, smiling. I can tell she's at least, charmed by him. She looks at me and I can see the curiosity and excitement in her eyes as well – though, she controls it a little better than my son. Nicholas is wearing jeans, a white button-down shirt, and a pair of cowboy boots that were a gift from Kendrick. I put his own little black Stetson on his head and look at him.
“He's like a little mini-me, isn't he?” I ask.
“Not sure the world can handle another one of you running amok,” Miss Delia laughs.