The Honeymoon Arrangement. Joss Wood
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always thought that the ‘wife for hire’ premise in romance novels was odd, because she couldn’t conceive of a situation in the twenty-first century when a fake wife would ever be needed.
But gorgeous Finn needed a wife. She was sorry that she couldn’t help him out, but thanks to the eye-watering mortgage she paid each month on this flat, her job—even when she wasn’t crazy about it—always came first. Which was a shame, because she could totally see herself swanning around five-star resorts, drinking cocktails and snuggling up to her husband’s hot bod—fake … real … who cared?
With her hair and make-up done, Callie headed to the kitchen. She pulled open her fridge door with more hope than expectation and twisted her lips at the bare shelves. There was absolutely nothing to eat and she was starving.
But she knew of a house where there would be blueberry muffins and a hot pot of coffee. The downside was that she’d be even later for work than normal, but maybe she’d take the morning off, or even the day. The house was only a couple of minutes away, and a large part of the reason why she’d bought this expensive flat in this gated community.
Awelfor, red-bricked and old, was her childhood home. In it were her favourite people; Seb, her brother, her best friend and almost sister-in-law Rowan, and Yasmeen, their housekeeper.
But she was so much more than a housekeeper, Callie thought ten minutes later, when she stood in the big, bright sunny kitchen at Awelfor, bending over to hug Yasmeen. This tiny, fiery Malay woman was her north star, her homing beacon. Awelfor would not be home without her.
Yasmeen pulled away and lifted her hand to Callie’s face. Her black eyes narrowed. ‘You’re too skinny and you look tired. When are you going to spend more time on land than you do in the air? And when are you going to find a man and have some babies?’
Situation normal, Callie thought. It was fine for Yasmeen to be a spinster, but not her. Do as I say and not as I do was Yas’s position on this subject.
Callie rolled her eyes and snagged a muffin—choc chip, not blueberry, yum!—from the plate in the middle of the wooden table that dominated the kitchen.
‘Don’t nag me—nag them,’ Callie retorted, gesturing to Seb and Rowan who had walked into the kitchen, both of them wearing that just-had-spectacular-wake-up-sex look.
Lucky rats. Callie wrinkled her nose when Finn’s gorgeous face flashed onto her eyeballs. She’d love to wake up to morning sex with him.
Seb crossed the kitchen to where she perched on the corner of the table, munching her muffin. As usual, he kissed her temple and gave her a quick hug. Her brilliant, nice brother. She was so happy that he’d found Ro—that they’d found each other.
It almost, but not quite, made her believe in true love. If it existed then Seb and Ro had the best chance of experiencing it.
Callie was startled out of her musings by Yasmeen’s hand slapping her thigh. She yelped and looked at her accusingly. ‘What?’ she demanded.
‘Have you ever been allowed to sit on the table instead of at it?’ Yasmeen demanded, hands on her hips. ‘That’s what chairs are for.’
Callie pulled a face at Rowan, who was laughing at her, but jumped off the table and pulled a chair out to sit down. ‘Yas …?’ she wheedled, using her best little-girl voice.
‘Yes, I know—you want a stuffed omelette,’ Yasmeen replied, heading to the fridge.
‘You know me so well,’ Callie purred.
‘I should. You’ve had me wrapped around your little finger since you were a baby,’ Yas retorted, pulling items out of the fridge. ‘Make yourself useful and grate some cheese.’
Seb poured them all some coffee and placed a cup on the table in front of Callie. ‘Aren’t you late for work?’ he asked, glancing at his watch.
Callie shrugged. ‘I let them know. Besides, I have so much holiday time due to me that I can take a morning here and there.’
She unwrapped the cheese and placed it on the cutting board Yasmeen had placed in front of her. Yasmeen passed her a grater and Callie got to work.
‘Hey, Ro?’
‘Mmm?’ Rowan looked up from her job of cutting red bell peppers. In Yas’s kitchen everyone helped. Including Seb, who was dicing mushrooms.
‘I had a call from the sexy Finn last night.’
‘What sexy Finn?’ Seb demanded. ‘Is this another European man you’re dating?’
Callie laughed. ‘No, this is Ro’s client Finn. The one we went to meet last night.’
Callie pinched some cheese and popped it into her mouth. After chewing, she told them about Finn’s crazy be-my-fake-wife offer.
Rowan looked at her, bemused. ‘Are you mad? Take him up on it!’
‘I’m flying to Paris, Ro, I have a job.’
‘You’ve just said that you have so much holiday time owed to you,’ Ro argued.
‘Stop encouraging her to act crazy, darling,’ Seb told Rowan. ‘And running off with a man she doesn’t know would be crazy. Talking about crazy—Cal, we need to talk.’
The mood in the room instantly turned serious as Seb cleared his throat. Rowan frowned and bit her bottom lip. Yasmeen stopped beating the eggs and Seb stared down at his pile of fungi.
Something was up, and whatever it was she knew from their response that she wouldn’t like it. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
Seb sent Rowan a pleading look, but Rowan just shook her head. Seb looked at her, fear and worry and, strangely, a touch of excitement in his deep blue eyes. ‘Cal, I have to tell you something.’
Callie shook her head, knowing instinctively that she didn’t want to hear whatever he was going to say. She held up her hand. ‘I don’t want to know.’
‘Laura is coming home.’
Crap. Dammit. Hell.
Laura. Her mother. Their mother. The woman, as Seb had told her a few months back, he had reconnected with. Oh, she’d always suspected that he’d kept track of her; he was a brilliant ethical hacker and there wasn’t any information he couldn’t find.
‘I want to see her again and she’s returning to Cape Town for a visit.’
Seb had a stubborn look on his face and she knew that his mind was made up.
‘Are you paying for her to come home?’ Callie demanded.
Seb’s lack of an answer was confirmation that he was.
‘If you bring her back to Awelfor I’ll never forgive you,’ Callie whispered, her stomach now in a knot, twisted with tension and long-ago suppressed hurt.
Her mother had walked out when she was seven. As far as Callie was concerned she’d had twenty years to come back home. It was way too late now.
‘I wasn’t planning to—not yet,’ Seb said in a quiet voice. ‘She’s coming home for a three-week visit and we’ve agreed to meet. She wants to see you too.’
Callie shook her head wildly. ‘Hell, no! No to the max. No!’
Seb held up his hands. ‘I know that this is a shock, But …’
Callie pulled in a deep breath and pushed back the hurt, the feeling of abandonment, the constant ache for her mother. Her eyes turned cold and her face tightened.
‘When is she due to land?’ she asked quietly, thinking that this was what Rowan had started to tell her the other night. She had been trying to warn her about Laura’s arrival—trying to get her head wrapped around the idea of Laura returning.
Sorry, Ro, not even marginally interested.