“That went well,” Ben declares, loosening his tie as we walk down the sidewalk. “Really well. They adored you.”
“They’re sweet people.” I adjust my purse strap, the weight of guilt settling heavy on my shoulders. The moment we’re out of earshot of the establishment, I can’t hold it in anymore. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry for what? You were incredible in there.”
We walk in silence for a moment. The sounds of the city surround us. Distant traffic. Muffled music from a bar down the street. The click of my heels on the pavement. I recognize I need to address what happened, but I’m not sure how to start.
“The wedding,” I blurt out, stopping on the sidewalk and turning to face him. “I gave them a date. July. God, Ben, I’m such an idiot.” I pause. “I understand you were probably hoping this would all be over after tonight, but when Marnie got so excited about the ceremony, I panicked.”
His expression is carefully neutral. I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. He stops walking, too, his hands sliding into his pockets.
“It’s okay,” he responds, but there’s a tightness around his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’ll fix it.”
“How?”
For the first time tonight, he appears uncertain. “I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll tell them we need to postpone due to work commitments. Or family issues. Something believable.”
But I can see resignation creeping into his face. He understands as well as I do that postponing a ceremony indefinitely after getting Red and Marnie so excited about it will raise red flags. They’ll see right through any excuse he comes up with.
“Ben,” I state quietly, “you realize they won’t buy that, right?” My voice gets stronger. “Red specifically mentioned he doesn’t trust men who can’t commit. If you postpone the ceremony, especially after how happy they were tonight, they’re going to wonder what’s really going on.”
His jaw tightens. “So what are you suggesting?”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “Maybe we should go through with it.”
He stares at me like I’ve suggested we rob a bank. “Go through with what?”
“The wedding. A real ceremony.” I take a deep breath, surprised by my own audacity. “I got us into this mess by giving them a date. The least I can do is help you see it through.”
“Freya, you can’t be serious about this.”
“Why not?” I start walking again, my heels clicking decisively on the sidewalk. “We’ve already sold them on the engagement. A ceremony is the logical next step. Besides, what’s the alternative? Call them up and mention we’ve had a change of heart? That we’re postponing the wedding indefinitely? They’ll see right through that.”
Ben catches up with me in a few quick strides. “You’re actually suggesting we get married.”
“I’m suggesting we have a wedding ceremony. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
I pause, considering this. “Well, we’ll need to make it legal for appearances’ sake, but we can get divorced quietly afterward.” I shrug. “People do it all the time, right?”
The words sound so casual coming out of my mouth. Like I’m discussing weekend plans instead of proposing to fake-marry my best friend. But underneath the bravado, my heart is racing.
“How quietly?” Ben asks.
“I don’t know. Six months? A year?” I gesture vaguely. Does it really matter? “However long it takes for the business agreement to be solidly established and for people to stop paying attention to your personal life.”
Ben is quiet for a long moment. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. He’s weighing the pros and cons, calculating risks and benefits, doing what he always does when faced with a big decision.
“It would have to be convincing,” he states finally. “If we’re going to do this, we have to go all out. Red and Marnie will expect a real ceremony, with all the trimmings.”
“We can do that. We’ll keep it small but elegant.”
“No.” Ben stops walking again. When I turn to observe him, there’s a determined expression on his face that I recognize. It’s his deal-making face. The one that’s made him a billionaire. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Money is no object.”
“Ben, you don’t need to?—”
“Freya, think about it.” His voice gets more intense. “This isn’t only about fooling Red and Marnie anymore. If we’re having a ceremony, people will expect photos, coverage, and social media posts. My PR team will want to use it to improve my image. Everything has to be perfect, or the whole thing falls apart.”
