Marrying My Fake Boyfriend

“Unfortunately. Part of the reason I don’t take boyfriends home anymore. Not that I haven’t had any in the last couple of years,” she added gloomily.

Brad mulled it over for a moment. “Sounds like a tough job.”

“Think you can handle it?”

“Sure.” Brad flashed a smile that made Cherrelle’s stomach into mush. “I’ve dealt with tougher customers.”

“I doubt it.”

Brad glanced at her. Then he laid a hand over hers as it lay in her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Trust me. It’ll be fine.”

Cherrelle hoped the trust wasn’t misplaced.

*****

Cherrelle’s parents lived in Oak Lawn, a sprawling one-story condo with vast grounds and a steel gate with a guard. The guard nodded at Cherrelle and let them in, Brad driving up the sweeping driveway to the front of the house.

Brad turned off the engine and turned to Cherrelle. She was sitting with her hands in her lap, staring ahead. As they had got nearer to their destination, she had withdrawn into herself, silent and huddling into the seat. Brad wanted to reach across and hold her, tell her things were going to be okay, but he stopped himself. Cherrelle needed this moment to gather her thoughts; she wouldn’t want a moment of pity.

“You okay?”

“No.” Cherrelle took a deep breath and opened the door. “But let’s do this.”

Brad climbed out and went around to Cherrelle’s side, helping her out and closing the door behind her. He slipped her arm through his and squeezed her hand.

“Hold onto me,” he whispered. “I won’t let you fall.”

Cherrelle was still looking pale, but the color was starting to come back. She looked up at him and Brad felt something pass between them. He wasn’t completely sure, but it zapped right through his body. Cherrelle gave him a grateful smile and pressed her head to his shoulder for a moment. Brad let her have that moment before they went up the path to the front door.

Cherrelle rang the bell and the door was opened a moment later by a plump, African American woman with graying hair and a pleasant countenance. Cherrelle smiled warmly when she saw the woman, the smile going all the way down to Brad’s groin.

“Hello, Madge.”

“Miss Cherrelle, hello.” Madge turned her pleasant smile onto Brad. “And who’s this handsome lad?”

Cherrelle grinned and led Brad into the huge foyer, Madge shutting the door behind them.

“Brad, this is Madge, our housekeeper and one of the best cooks in Oak Lawn. This is my fiancé, Brad Jarrett.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Madge.”

Brad stepped forward, took Madge’s hand, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. Madge laughed and slapped his shoulder playfully.

“A real charmer, isn’t he? Has he got a handsome dad? This one’s a little too younger for me.”

Brad laughed. “Unfortunately my father is married. Sorry.”

“Cherrelle.”

Brad turned. A huge bald man, his head shining in the light coming through the windows, stalked into the foyer. And he was huge, as tall as Brad’s six-five and just as broad. His muscle tone just looked thick rather than defined, pushing against his gray suit so it made him look like he was close to wearing a sausage skin. His face was twisted in a disapproving frown that he directed at his daughter.

“Stop conversing in the hallway with the staff.”

Cherrelle looked like she was about to say something, but she kept her mouth shut, merely nodding at Madge who walked away after giving the newcomer a slight bow. Cherrelle sighed and turned to the huge man. “Hello, Pa.”

So this was Logan Mason. Brad could see why anyone would be scared of him, considering how big he was. He probably used his size to intimidate more than anything. And with the scowl that darkened his expression when it swung around on him, Brad knew that he was not going to get along with Logan in any shape or form.

“Is this your man?”

Cherrelle slipped her arm through Brad’s. “Brad Jarrett, this is my father Logan Mason.”

“How do you do, Mr Mason?” Brad held out a hand but Logan simply looked at the hand as if it was contagious. He gave him an incredulous look.

“Which street did she pick you up from, then?”

“How about Princeton University?” Brad didn’t blink and bit back a smile as Logan showed surprised. “I knew Cherrelle when we were studying at the same place. We bumped into each other about a year ago and simply reconnected.”

That sounded plausible enough and judging from Cherrelle’s smile she agreed. But Logan still looked disbelieving.

“And I’m supposed to believe this because…?”

“We were both in Rockefeller College. I made friends with her through my roommate, Jim Reese.”

Brad knew that Jim had met her parents and hoped that his name would give him credence. Logan slanted an eyebrow at Cherrelle.

“Another boyfriend we didn’t know about?” he asked snidely.

Cherrelle rolled her eyes. “Pa, Jim has had a girlfriend since he was nineteen. Off-limits.”

“Right.”

He still looked skeptic. But Brad had dealt with tougher characters when selling his cars. He had been taught not to back down and think the buyers were in charge.

Cherrelle sighed and tugged Brad through the foyer. “Can we take this into the lounge, please, Pa? I’m sure Ma would like to meet him.”

Logan grunted and led the way through the house. As they walked, Brad glanced at Cherrelle and noticed that she wasn’t the woman he had seen before. This woman seemed confined in emotions, almost timid. He wasn’t sure he liked it.

There was no fire in this woman. And that worried him.

There was a woman sitting primly on the edge of an armchair cushion when they entered the lounge at the back of the house. One of the walls was floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating her in light. Refined in a silk blouse and suit, her hair twisted into a knot at the base of her neck, she looked every bit the lady of the manor. Brad knew behind the serene, empty expression on her face beat the heart of a cold-calculating woman.

He couldn’t believe these people were Cherrelle’s parents. They seemed to have completely different personalities.

Logan led the way in and flopped onto the couch.