A Fake Girlfriend for Chinese New Year Page 2

  This time, he shot her an enigmatic smile before exiting the grocery store. He had many different smiles, all for slightly different purposes.

  Zach drove the short distance to Jo’s house in his old Ford Focus and knocked on her door. Strangely, his heart was thumping a little quickly, like he was nervous.

  But he was just spending the evening with a friend.

  No, he definitely wasn’t nervous. There was no reason to be.

  The door opened, revealing Jo. She was wearing dark jeans and a brown sweater that hugged her curves. He’d likely seen her in this sweater before, but it looked really good on her. Her light brown hair fell in waves, and she wore silver earrings of some sort.

  “You look nice,” he said, swallowing.

  She fidgeted with her hair. “Nobody’s around now. You don’t have to pretend.” Her eyes lit up. “You brought me carnations. They’re my favorite—how did you know?”

  To be honest, Zach hadn’t even known they were carnations. He’d just seen the pink flowers and figured she’d like them.

  He shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

  “Matt never got me flowers, even though I told him exactly what I liked.”

  Matt was, frankly, a douche canoe. Not that Zach had ever met the man, but from the bits and pieces Jo had shared about her ex-fiancé over the years, it had become apparent that the guy had never deserved Jo.

  Which was why she’d ended the engagement. Because she’d realized she deserved better.

  After Jo put the flowers in the vase, Zach drove the two of them to Cardinal’s, the nice-ish restaurant on the outskirts of town. The server, Jacob, a former student of Zach’s who was maybe nineteen now, seated them at a table by the window and kept tripping up over the list of specials.

  “We have a pizza today with fresh rainbow trout. Or sardines. I mean, anchovies. We also have ravioli stuffed with...peppers? It started with a ‘p.’ No, it wasn’t peppers...pumpkin, maybe? Shit, I’ll go check. It’s my second day on the job” His face paled. “Sorry for saying ‘shit.’ Dammit, I did it again!”

  Jo smiled at him kindly. “Don’t worry. I’m going to order the mussels, no matter what the specials are.”

  “Oh, uh, there’s a mussel special, too. Our regular mussel entrée has white wine, but I think the special one is cooked in ale?”

  “Probably. They used to have that as a special every two weeks when I worked here.”

  “You used to work at Cardinal’s, Dr. MacGregor?” the kid asked.

  “Yeah, in my last year of high school. The first day, I spilled seafood marinara all over a lady from out of town who was wearing a white silk blouse.”

  The kid chuckled.

  Zach smiled at his date trying to make their server feel more at ease. Jo wasn’t as outgoing as he was, but she was good at this sort of thing.

  “What would you like today, Mr. Wong?” Jacob asked.

  “You can call me Zach, now that you’ve graduated.”

  Jacob looked at him as though this was a horrifying suggestion, even weirder than rainbow trout on pizza. Which surely someone had tried before, but Zach didn’t like seafood on pizza.

  “I couldn’t call you that,” Jacob sputtered. “You’re Mr. Wong.”

  “Okay. Mr. Wong, if you prefer.”

  After they placed their orders, Jacob left and silence descended on the table. It was strange to be at a nice restaurant with Jo. When he saw her, it was usually at the bar.

  “I find it weird being called Mr. Wong outside of school,” he said.

  “Yeah, I understand. I find it weird being called Dr. MacGregor outside the office. Dr. MacGregor is my father.”

  “For me, I think it’s partly because I don’t look like I should have a Chinese last name. I like my name, and people from Mosquito Bay know my family and don’t question it. But students who are bussed in from other towns, other teachers...sometimes they ask, and it’s awkward. Nick and Greg look more Chinese than I do. I look a bit like a white version of my dad. Does that sound strange?”

  Jo considered this for a second. “I don’t know what it’s like, of course, but I understand what you’re saying.”

  Occasionally, people could tell Zach wasn’t entirely white from his appearance. It was awkward when people played guessing games about his background and thought it was fun.

  He didn’t talk about this stuff much, but there were other things he’d talked about with Jo that he didn’t normally share. Although Zach had continued to act like his fun, relaxed self most of the time after his broken engagement, he’d talked to her about it a little. About his heartbreak, how he was hurt that the life he wanted was too boring and unfulfilling for Marianne, even though she’d initially been happy to move to Mosquito Bay.

  Still, it was Marianne’s right to feel that way, and he was glad she’d ended it before they’d started planning the wedding.

  Facebook—the rare times he used it—told him that she now lived in Toronto, and she appeared to be enjoying herself there. Like Nick, she seemed to belong in the big city.

  He was happy for her, but it had hurt. He’d—

  “You know who you look like?” Jo asked suddenly, bringing him out of his thoughts.

  “Who?”

  “Keanu Reeves.”

  “You think I look like Keanu Reeves?”

  “Yeah, a little. Did you see Always Be My Maybe? He was hilarious in that.”

  Zach shook his head.

  “But you look more like Matrix-era Keanu Reeves. You don’t think so?”

  “That’s a big compliment. I’m not sure I can accept it. Are you saying you think I’m sexy?” He waggled his eyebrows.

  Jo’s mouth fell open, and she paled.

  Shit.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s not—”

  “Here’s your bread and wine!” Jacob said.

  Zach’s red wine nearly sloshed onto the white tablecloth, but Jacob managed to catch it just in time before he scurried to another table.

  Jo reached for her wine and had a gulp, then grabbed a piece of bread.

  “Again, I’m sorry,” Zach said. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “No worries.” She plastered on a smile. “It’s fine.”

  He could tell it wasn’t, but also that she didn’t want to talk about it.

  She took a sip of her wine—a sip, not a gulp this time—and fixed her hair.

  She really did look lovely tonight, but she wasn’t for him. This was pretend, and she was his friend. He wasn’t sure if she was willing to give a relationship another go—she hadn’t talked about that recently—but he wasn’t.

  His life was fine the way it was.

  * * *

  You think I’m sexy?

  Dear God, it was a miracle Jo hadn’t done more than open her mouth wide in horror.

  She did think Zach was very sexy, and he looked gorgeous in the black dress shirt he was wearing tonight. He looked a bit like Keanu Reeves, it was true, but why had she felt the need to tell him that?

  Zach had been playing around when he made that comment about being sexy, but could he tell the truth from how she’d reacted?

  She didn’t think so. Still, it had made her jittery, made her feel like maybe he could read her mind, and oh, wasn’t that a horrifying thought?

  But now everything was back on track. She was eating her mussels and slathering her bread with butter and dipping it in the juices, and it was all delicious. This had been her favorite meal when she’d worked here over a dozen years ago, and Cardinal’s hadn’t changed much over the years. They served good food, but they’d never been on the cutting edge of trends, and the dining room hadn’t been updated since she was a teenager.

  Across from her, Zach was cutting off a piece of his medium-rare steak, which, in her opinion, was the perfect way to cook a steak, and oh God, why did she keep finding more things to like about him?

  Though she usually prided herself on being upfront and honest, her secret crus
h on Zach was the exception. Only Tiffany knew. Jo was determined that no one else would ever find out.

  After they’d finished their meals, Jacob came over to clear their plates and recite the day’s desserts. Jo really hoped today was Fudge Brownie Day.

  “We have two desserts,” Jacob said. “Tiramisu and fudge brownie sundae.”

  “Did you say fudge brownie sundae?” Jo asked. After all, Jacob had messed up the anchovy pizza special earlier.

  “Yeah.”

  “Not just fudge brownies with whipped cream?”

  “No, fudge brownie sundae. It’s new. Fudge brownies with vanilla ice cream, peanut butter ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sauce. Or fudge sauce? I don’t know.”

  Jo wasn’t quite sure what the difference between chocolate sauce and fudge sauce was, but that was a minor detail.

  It sounded amazing.

  Sure, it would be quite sweet and terrible for her teeth, but a woman had to have a few indulgences in life.

  And sure, she could probably eat it all by herself, but she was on a “date” with Zach Wong, and sharing a fudge brownie sundae would be a very datish thing to do.

  “What do you think, sweetie?” she said, the endearment popping out of her mouth before she could think about it. “Should we share it?”

  “Sounds good.” He turned to Jacob. “One fudge brownie sundae.”

  “Coming right up,” Jacob said.

  Once he’d left, Zach said, “If you call me ‘sweetie,’ what should I call you?”

  “Darling.” She’d dreamed of him calling her that.

  “Darling it is.”

  They talked quietly for a few minutes, until a high voice shouted, “Dr. MacGregor!”

  A little girl scampered toward their table. It was Savannah, wearing a purple party dress.

  “I named my puppy Alfred,” Savannah said.

  Jo smiled at her. “That’s a good name for a dog.”

  “But Alfred wants a friend. Can you make me another balloon dog now? Please?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t have any balloons with me.”

  “Oh.” Savannah twisted her mouth, then started back toward her family’s table.

  She’d only taken two steps before she collided with Jacob.

  Who was, of course, carrying a fudge brownie sundae, cherry on top.

  Jo saw it happen in slow motion.

  “Zach!” she cried.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t enough time for Zach to move out of the way before the fudge brownie sundae toppled off the tray. Chocolate sauce and ice cream spilled all over his hair and shirt, though he managed to catch the glass dish before it landed on his crotch.

  Oh, dear.

  Zach, however, quickly recovered his composure. He held out his arms, looked at his ruined shirt, and said, “Want some ice cream, darling?”

  * * *

  Jo sat in the passenger’s seat of Zach’s car as he left the parking lot. Cardinal’s had quickly brought them a new sundae and comped their dessert and wine, and now their so-called date was over.

  They didn’t say anything for a minute or two, and then Zach started to laugh. It was a contagious sort of laughter, because soon Jo was laughing, too.

  “People will definitely...be talking about our date,” Zach wheezed.

  “Which is exactly what you wanted.”

  “I didn’t ask to have an ice cream sundae decorate my shirt.”

  “You could start a hot new trend.”

  “Cold trend, you mean.” He glanced over at her, and her heart skipped a beat when he smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Whereas if Jo had been on the receiving end of the spilled ice cream, she wouldn’t have been a happy camper. After all, she was wearing a nice sweater for her first date with the man she’d had a crush on for two years.

  Now, one of Jo’s domestic skills—along with growing great tomatoes and making really good French toast—was her ability to remove any stain. But still. Although she wouldn’t have gotten angry about the spilled sundae, she might not be able to laugh about it yet.

  “At least my shirt is black,” Zach said. “Hey, you want to come over and watch the end of the game?”

  Watching Hockey Night in Canada was something they’d occasionally do together on Saturday nights. It was part of their friendship, along with Friday nights at Finn’s.

  Dinner at Cardinal’s, on the other hand, was something different, and Jo had enjoyed it very much, despite the unfortunate ending. Zach picking her up and handing her a bouquet of carnations—that was the stuff of her dreams.

  And now they were back to Jo and Zach, friends in heartbreak.

  “Sure,” she said, trying to hide her disappointment.

  “Better go to my place so I can get changed. I’ll walk you home later.”

  The Leafs were winning three to two against the Bruins when Zach flipped on the television at the start of the third period. Jo curled up on the couch as he went upstairs. She tried to focus on the hockey game, rather than picturing him without a shirt, but it was a lost cause.

  If only she could drizzle chocolate sauce on his bare chest, maybe garnished with cherries and whipped cream for good measure, and lick it off...

  Stop it, brain! It’s not going to happen.

  Zach was a good friend, and he’d never shown any interest in her. There was no reason that should change now, just because they were faking a relationship.

  After the game—the Leafs won—Jo still didn’t want to leave.

  “Let’s watch Always Be My Maybe,” she said to Zach. “Since you’ve never seen it and that’s a travesty.”

  They started the movie, and though Jo very much wanted to watch it, she soon found herself getting sleepy. Maybe she was crashing after all the sugar in that sundae. She curled up against the arm of the couch...

  * * *

  Something didn’t feel right.

  Jo opened her eyes and jolted up as she took in her surroundings.

  She was on Zach’s couch, covered in a fleece blanket, and sunlight was filtering through the curtains.

  It was morning.

  She’d spent the night at Zach’s.

  “Hey.” Zach stepped into the living room with two cups of coffee in hand.

  “What time is it?” she asked, her voice raspy.

  “Nine.”

  “Shit, I have to get home. I’m supposed to be at my parents’ house for brunch at ten, and I need to shower.”

  “You can shower here.”

  “But I need a change of clothes.”

  “Of course. Just drink your coffee and you can be on your way.”

  “No sugar?”

  “No sugar. I know how you like it.”

  Frankly, Jo kind of liked sugar in coffee, but it wasn’t necessary and she was trying to limit her sugar intake, especially after all the ice cream she’d consumed last night—that sundae hadn’t exactly been small.

  She took the mug from his outstretched hand and her fingers brushed against his, which was as much touching as they ever did.

  “My neck hurts,” she said.

  “I would have moved you from the couch, but I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  He’d thoughtfully put a blanket over her, and he’d made her coffee the way she wanted it. The only time Matt had made her coffee, it had been weak and overly sweet.

  She needed to stop comparing men to Matt.

  Her ex hadn’t cheated on her or stolen from her or threatened her. Nor had he done any of the other things that women wrote to advice columns—or posted on Reddit—about.

  She used to read those columns to convince herself that Matt was a good guy and she was lucky to have him. But then she’d noticed a pattern. Women would describe all the horrible, jaw-dropping trash their husband or boyfriend did, then end with, “He’s a good guy and maybe I’m being too hard on him.” Basically, “My husband kills unicorns, but he cooks dinner once a month.” Women were taught to be forgiving and lowe
r their expectations.

  Whereas when men wrote in, they’d say something like, “Occasionally she eats food with raw garlic and her breath smells.” Or, “She gained ten pounds and my new twenty-year-old assistant at work is hot and smiled at me once.”

  It was rough in the dating world. Matt wasn’t the worst guy out there, true, but he’d neglected their relationship and never prioritized her, and she’d realized it was better to be single than to have what she did with him.

  Jo shouldn’t swoon over a cup of coffee. It was just coffee. Except she, pathetically, swooned over nearly everything Zach did.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Is your nosy neighbor still out working in his garage every morning?”

  “He is.”

  “So he’ll see me leave your house on a Sunday morning and draw conclusions. It’ll be good for our story.”

  Zach’s mouth curved into a stunningly attractive smile. “It will indeed.”

  * * *

  “I hear you’re dating Zach Wong,” Jo’s mother said over brunch a couple hours later.

  Well, that was fast, though Jo couldn’t say she was surprised.

  “I am,” she said. “Where did you hear that?”

  “Shelly. She said you were at Cardinal’s last night, and the waiter spilled an ice cream sundae all over Zach. How long have you been seeing him?” Mom lifted a forkful of salad to her mouth. She seemed a touch hurt that she’d had to learn about her daughter’s date from Shelly Sanderson.

  “Not long,” Jo said. “That was our first official date.” For once, she allowed herself to sound dopey and in love when talking about Zach. No acting required.

  “I’m glad you’re finally dating again,” Becky, Jo’s sister, said before dropping some quiche on the baby asleep in her arms. “Oops.”

  Becky was two years younger than Jo. She’d been married for more than five years and had three children; the older two were currently squishing bread rolls at the other end of the table.

  “Yes, I’m glad, too,” Mom said.

  Jo’s family had been bugging her about her love life. Not because they thought she was a failure for being single at thirty-three and having a broken engagement. It was more that they were all happily married and couldn’t imagine it any other way. They meant well, but Jo’s situation seemed to baffle them. Her parents had met when they were twenty; Becky and her husband had been twenty-one, in their final year of university. Dating in your thirties—in the age of Tinder and other apps—wasn’t something they knew anything about.