Boyfriend Maintenance Read online

  Which brings me back to why we are here. “So, tell me more about you. What do I need to know?”

  Nodding her head, she launches into basic information about her family and some people we will meet at the engagement party in a couple days.

  Hours later when I start my shift at Madison, I realize just how much fun I had today with Emmy. Maybe after all this is said and done, we can be friends. A friend I wouldn’t mind kissing, but a friend nonetheless.

  Chapter 9

  Emmy

  “Emmy, Jake’s going to be here in like twenty minutes, and you have yet to come out here. I need to check you out, darling.” Becca knocks on my door and has been pestering me all evening since I started getting ready. She’s seen my dress, but she wasn’t with me when I bought it months ago.

  “I’m almost done. Hold your horses.” I finish applying my nude lip gloss. I like to keep my makeup simple. I opted for a smoky brown on my eyelids to make my deep brown eyes pop. In addition to my gloss, my makeup isn’t noticeable, and I prefer it that way. Opening my bedroom door, I’m face-to-face with Becca.

  She whistles. “Holy shiitake mushrooms, Em. You look fucking sexy as hell.”

  I turn around so she can get a look at the back, which is my favorite part of the dress.

  “Oh my god. I’m dead,” she exclaims. I laugh.

  I’m wearing a Kelly green dress that hangs just past my knees. The green beading that winds randomly over the front of the bodice, continues through the lace back that cuts into a deep v, which dips down to the waist of the dress where the skirt starts. Wearing a bra with this dress is pretty much impossible, so I've got my breasts taped into the bodice. Thankfully, the dress isn't cut low in the front. I won't have to live in fear of one of the girls popping out.

  The dress is simple elegance, it really has a vintage look to it. I got it for a steal for less than two hundred. It's more than what I normally like paying for an outfit, but when I saw it in the store, I knew it was one of a kind. And bonus, it was in my size. It was fate that this dress and I became one. I wear my hair up in a fancy chignon, to show off the epic backing. The green lace with beading really is to die for.

  “I know, I about died when I saw it in the store,” I tell her, and then walk over to the couch to start shoving my essentials into a small clutch.

  “Jake will be fighting a woody all night for sure.”

  I turn around and glare at her. “This isn’t for Jake, and I doubt it.”

  “Right.” She draws out the word as she walks over and sits down on the couch.

  “Don’t give me that. If I’m going to face my family, I want to look as confident as I feel. This dress does it for me.”

  “So, you’re not nervous for tonight?” She bites her lip, studying me.

  “Hell yes, I’m nervous. One can be confident and nervous at the same time, for sure.”

  “What are you most worried about? Your family, dealing with Cringey Craig, or that everyone will see through your relationship”—she air-quotes that last word—“with Jake?”

  I want to tell her all of it plus the tiny bit about being with Jake again. I haven’t seen him since our shopping trip and lunch. I have not mentioned what almost happened between us in the dressing room to Becca. She’d have too much of a field day with that.

  I’m not necessarily worried about being with him, more like I’m worried this new tension between us in the Bloomingdale’s will grow, and while I’m not completely against it, I haven’t completely been truthful with him regarding my situation. Not to mention his rule of not sleeping with residents. I’m not moving anytime soon, and he loves his job here.

  I settle on, “All the above.”

  “Well, Craig will take one look at you and Jake and back off. Jake’s got at least fifty pounds on that scrawny ass. As for your parents, just keep your interactions with them to a minimum. That way they can’t start questioning you about your relationship.”

  She makes valid points.

  “I guess I’m worried about them being rude to him. I know I told him he didn’t have to pretend to be anyone else, but I don’t want to give them ammunition to make him feel bad about himself.”

  “Do you care that he’s a maintenance man?”

  “Of course not!” I’m a little offended by her question. “I couldn't care less about what he does. He could be a trash man for all I care.” Granted, if he were a high-powered businessman, we probably would have not been in the same place at the same time and this little arrangement wouldn’t be happening.

  She gives me this knowing smirk and raises her hands in submission. “Fair enough, just asking.”

  Just then, there is a knock on the door. Which means it must be Jake.

  I move to the door and open it. While I saw all the outfits, we bought the other day, seeing him now, ready for our pseudo-date takes my breath away. Standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets, he's swoon worthy. He’s wearing a deep navy-blue suit jacket with matching trousers. He decided against the tie, making the white button-up even more pronounced. His walnut leather belt ended up matching the pair of brown Oxfords perfectly.

  “Wow, Emmy, you look fantastic.” He clears his throat.

  “Not so bad yourself, Jake. This outfit is simply … you.” I smile, and it’s the truth. While I like the normally rugged look of Jake Harper, this dressed-up version is just as spectacular.

  “Thank you. I had an excellent stylist.” His smile is warm, and it seems like we could actually pass as friends, so making people believe we are more should be easy.

  “Well, don’t you two just look stunning together. Cringey Craig isn’t going to know what hit him. Em, you never looked this good on his arm. Mostly because he looked like a twat ninety-five percent of the time.”

  I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. She always hated Craig. Isn’t it obvious judging by her nickname for him?

  When I look back at Jake, he’s glaring at her.

  “Are you ready?” he grumbles.

  “Yes! See ya, Bex.” I wave to her as I close the door behind me.

  Jake is still glaring and all bristly when we get to the elevator. He pushes the lobby button then turns to me. “Who’s Craig?”

  “Oh, just my ex. Nothing to worry about.” I wave him off.

  “You didn’t say anything about making an ex jealous. That was not part of the deal. I’m not going to be part of a lovers’ quarrel.” His body is angled toward me and he looks mad with a mix of disappointed.

  My shoulders sag at his words and I let out a sigh. “Craig and I broke up years ago. I broke up with him. My heart wasn’t in it. His parents are old family friends of mine. They set us up years ago. When I found out that he had been invited to all these wedding parties, I realized that he and my parents would be relentless in their attempts at getting us back together. That’s what created my need for having a plus one. I’m not interested at all in Craig, he actually drives me nuts. Bex’s nickname for him is legit. He’s cringeworthy. Some of the shit that comes out of his mouth is just …” I shake my head. “I just can’t deal with him.”

  Thankfully, I can tell Jake believes me because his anger melts away from his body during my explanation, but he still sports a hefty scowl.

  “So, do you think you can replace that scowl with a smile? You look so much hotter with the smile.” I give him my own smile and tilt my head to the side, trying to get any kind of reaction.

  His eyebrow twitches and he shifts his lips to the side. Then the tiniest little smile breaks through.

  “You think I’m hot?”

  “Duh, I wouldn’t have asked you to be my fake boyfriend if I didn’t. It was the number one requirement.”

  “Ah, well clearly I made the grade.” He plays along, and for that I’m grateful. The last thing I need is to take a grouchy boyfriend, fake or not, into the lion’s den with me.

  By the time we get to the NoMad Hotel Rooftop, Jake’s back to his normal, easygoing self. The one I
got to know at lunch the other day. He also exudes confidence because he isn’t putting off any kind of vibe that he’s anxious. Unlike him, it’s clear that I’m a nervous Nellie. If he’s uneasy about being at a swanky venue in an upscale part of town, he doesn’t show it at all. If anything, he seems to fit in perfectly. Which, I guess is what we were going for with the clothes makeover.

  Standing in the elevator taking us up to The Rooftop, the grill and bar my parents rented out for the engagement party tonight, I shift my weight from one hip to the other and I can’t seem to keep still.

  His hand covers mine, preventing me from twisting them together. “Stop fidgeting. You’re fine. We are going to rock this.”

  “I know, it's just that I get some anxiety when it comes to being around my parents.” At lunch, I told him that I didn’t have a great relationship with my father and stepmother, instead of the truth, which is that it’s much more of a nonexistent relationship. I told him that they are just very narrow-minded and hard to please. There’s always a possibility that they bring up my self-proclaimed exile, if they do, I’ll deal with it. But truthfully, I don’t owe him an explanation. This thing between us isn’t a real relationship. If it were, then absolutely, honesty is key.

  “I get it. But you’ve got me. I’m here for a reason, Emmy, so it’s all good.” He’s smiling at me, making me feel all tingly, and when the elevator pings our arrival, I realize I’m smiling back and there’s definitely something flowing between the two of us.

  I’ve never been to the NoMad Hotel’s Rooftop, but upon seeing it for the first time I can tell why my parents picked it. It’s everything you would expect from a traditional high-society venue for a party like this. There are several high-top tables set up near the bar area. The granite bar top and white cloth-draped tables only allow seating for around forty people. There are more like sixty here though, but since the terrace provides more lounge-like seating and a dance floor, there’s standing room for nearly a hundred. There isn’t a DJ, but music is playing, and some attendees are even dancing.

  Jake lets out a low whistle as we pause and take in the place. I nod in agreement.

  “Swanky much?” I mumble.

  He chuckles.

  I scan the area for the key players. My father, Kitty, Craig, and Levi. Hoping to find my brother first, I catch the eye of Kitty instead.

  I take a deep breath. “Incoming.”

  Jake reaches over and grabs my hand. “Bring it on.”

  Chapter 10

  Jake

  A tall, older woman walks toward us. From far away, she looks almost regal, but as she gets closer, I can tell that this is a woman who puts a lot of effort into her appearance in order to make herself look superior. With Emmy’s warning, I’m guessing this is her stepmother. I squeeze Emmy’s hand to show my support right as the woman stops in front of us.

  I don’t know Emmy well, but I can feel the shift in the air around her. It surprises me a bit that I can sense this change, but even more so that I don’t much like that she’s feeling stressed. There is a part of me—a very small part—that feels the need to protect her.

  “Emerson.” She leans in and air kisses Emmy’s cheeks. “I’m glad you could make it, even if a bit late.” I fight off my desire to make a show of looking at my watch and pointing out that we arrived right on time. There’s also something about the way she says “Emerson” that I don’t like. Emmy told me that she’s always gone by Emmy, so I get the feeling that Kitty’s use of her full name is a dig.

  “Kitty,” is all Emmy says in reply.

  I officially have her attention. Just as expected, she looks down her nose at me. I might have imagined the flare of her nostrils. But it makes me feel as if she can smell the lack of wealth on me.

  “Are you going to introduce me?” She holds out her elegant hand. Not for a shake, but the way rich bitches do when they want you to kiss the back of their hand. Like she’s a fucking queen or something.

  “This is my boyfriend, Jake Harper,” Emmy tells her, and I swallow my pride and lean forward to take her hand.

  “Mrs. King. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “I’m sure you haven’t heard anything good, but I have to admit, I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you.” God, she is snooty.

  “That’s alright. I actually haven’t heard anything about you either,” I tell her.

  Her eyes narrow but she plays it off. I sneak a glance at Emmy, and she doesn’t seem irritated at my jab at all. Good.

  “So, I take it this thing is new?” Kitty brushes her hand dismissively between the two of us.

  “Yes,” is all Emmy replies.

  “Good. Well, Craig is around here somewhere. I know he is very eager to see you, Emerson.” Just like that she’s dismissed me.

  Emmy leans into me a bit. “Ah, well good for Craig. Like I told him last week, the feeling isn’t mutual. Plus, I’m with Jake.”

  I turn my head slightly and press a kiss to her temple. Kitty studies the gesture before looking away, nodding, and waving to someone nearby. No longer making eye contact with Emmy, she delivers a blow.

  “Whatever you say, Emmy. Whatever you think this is between the two of you, won’t last. Craig is the real deal and you know it. Stay out of trouble.” At that, she turns and walks away.

  Emmy lets out a sigh of relief and sags slightly into me. “One down, two more to go.”

  “That woman is vile. Was that interaction better or worse than you were expecting?” I start to drag her toward the bar. If I’m going to make it through the rest of tonight dealing with that kind of shit, I need a drink. A strong one at that.

  “That was actually about on par.”

  “Do you think your dad is going to be worse? And who’s number three? I thought you said Levi is Team Emmy.” She chuckles at that.

  “Levi isn’t number three. His horrid bride-to-be is. We went to school together. I’m pretty sure her one goal in life is to be cast on The Real Housewives of New York City someday. Marrying Levi gets her pretty darn close to that goal because of who he is and how much he’s worth.”

  “So, she’s going to be a breath of fresh air?”

  At that, she laughs, which makes me smile, because I finally get why she didn’t want to do this alone.

  “What about your dad? Is he going to be like Kitty?” I hand her a glass of house wine. I sip my Manhattan and direct her toward an empty table.

  “Hard to say. He will probably be less rude to you, but more judgmental of me. But who knows?”

  We sip our drinks and chat about our surroundings. This place is a lot swankier than my normal haunts. It clearly carters to the upper class, but I find myself relaxed here for the most part. I’m not itching to get out. I doubt I’ll ever find myself wanting to come back, but I’m not turned off by the atmosphere, a feeling I attribute to my being comfortable with Emmy. I try not to read too much into that feeling. I’m not nor will I ever be someone who frequents a place like this.

  She shares little stories about several of the attendees. She points out a woman chatting with her soon-to-be sister-in-law across the room.

  “See that woman over there?” She tips her head to the side.

  “Yeah, what about her?”

  She nods, starting off at the woman. “She used to be one of my closest friends.”

  “What happened?”

  “A couple Christmases ago, I bought her this beautiful vase, she loves getting flowers, has them all over her house. Well, I picked up the vase on sale at this nice vintage boutique, it had her name all over it. You know, one of those gifts you see and just know you have to buy it for that person? Anyway, I kid you not, she took one look at the vase, scrunched her nose, and pushed it to the side.” She takes a drink, but she looks amused more than hurt. I’m surprised that there doesn’t seem to be an upset or spiteful tone in her voice.

  “You mean she wasn’t thankful for the gift?” I lean back in my seat, a little surprised that I’m feeling defensive of
Emmy’s feelings. Not that she’s having any kind of feelings I should be defensive over, but I digress.

  “That’s exactly what I mean. She got mad at me. She was insulted that I gave her trash.” She air quotes the last word. Then her smile disappears, she twists her lips to the side, finally showing disdain. “That was the last time we spoke.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say, other than good riddance.”

  She smiles ruefully, bringing the straw of her drink to her lips but adds, “to bad trash.”

  In that moment my heart thumps inside my chest. Maybe Emmy really isn’t like these people surrounding us.

  She proceeds to fill me in on who certain people are. She seems to know everyone, so I’m surprised that no one comes to talk to us. It isn’t until we are about ready for a second round of drinks when her father finds us. While he doesn’t look as warm and inviting as I would expect a father to look, he doesn’t look as rigid as his wife. He has Emmy’s dark hair, but it has a generous sprinkling of salt through it. He’s tall and seems to be in decent shape. His mustache matches his hair—more salt—and I can tell he keeps it well-groomed. I’m personally not a fan of the ’staches, they can get out of hand and make most men look like tools. That’s my opinion though.

  “Emmy, it’s nice to see you,” her dad greets.

  I let out a breath when he walks right up to her and pulls her into a fatherly hug. She accepts the hug, and I can feel a sense of lingering from both of them, almost like they don’t want it to end—as if the peace between them in this moment is about to be lost. When the hug is over, she smiles at him with affection. It takes him a nanosecond to zone in on me.

  “I’m Joseph King, Emmy’s father. You are?” He holds out his hand and I shake it.

  “I’m Jake Harper, Emmy’s boyfriend.” I’m cool as a cucumber, folks. I wouldn’t normally set out to piss off the father of my girlfriend, but I’m not going to let him push me around. Especially since this isn’t the real deal.

  “Hmm. I see. Well, I don’t think anyone knew you were bringing a date.” He looks around. “I was just talking to Craig, and I—well, we—were under the impression that the two of you were mending things.”