Fake Fiancée

Chapter 2: LA Bound

 “I’ll miss you, honey!”

I rolled my eyes at the annoying sound of my mother’s voice claiming she would miss me. She would only miss me because I was the one who did the chores and the cooking.

“Yeah, see you.”

With that, I ignored my mother’s pout, grabbed my luggage and walked over to security. I know it’s rude but whatever. My mother didn’t care about anything other than herself. If she cared for me as well, she would have gotten a better job than the hot secretary, Miss Campbell, at my high school and stopped flirting with my classmates. 

That was why I had to do this, to help myself achieve my goal – getting into Harvard. Harvard was my dream college because not only was it an Ivy League, but because my father went there. I hardly remember him, but I know he was intelligent and caring – nothing like my mother. But he had died when I was six and since then I had started my lonely life.

After collecting my duffel bag and putting my shoes back on, I walked away from security. To kill time, I sat on a bench and took out a book I packed - The Shining by Stephen King. It was an hour before I could clamber onto the plane – to me it felt like forever, though. Steve had booked me a first class seat, but it was a shame I was planning on sleeping the whole plane ride so I couldn’t admire all facilities I was able to use. Once I took my seat in the comfortable leather seat, I leaned my head against the palm of my hand, closed my eyes and let myself escape reality.

 *      *      *

When I had finally woken up, the plane was landing at LAX. I looked out of the window of the plane to see sunshine and smiled. I couldn’t wait to see Los Angeles. I barely ever travelled, since my mother didn’t care about what I wanted. Once we landed and I finally was able to hop out from the stupid plane, I searched for Steve. I hadn’t seen him in three years, since he had become so busy with being a manager for celebrities.

The crowd was thick so I did the thing I see all the times in movies – I stepped onto a nearby seat and stood up, so I could see over the crowd better. People stared at me and I ignored them.

“Lainie!”

Turning around at the sound of my name being called, I found my uncle. He still looked the same. It’s probably the ‘Campbell never-aging and always looking beautiful gene.’

“Hey Steve.”

"Great to see you, Lainie!"

He opened his arms wide for a bear hug and I laughed. After we let go, Steve smiled and grabbed my luggage, so I was only left holding my duffel bag.

Ok then.

“You’re getting taller,” he observed.

I frowned. I was one of the shortest people in my grade since I was quite petite. “I know I’m short, you don’t need to lie.”

Steve laughed. “Well, you are short, but before you were no higher than my shoulder.”

We continued to catch up as we walked out of LAX. The sun burned brightly and the heat was suffocating. When we arrived at his car, I raised an eyebrow - a sleek, black, Mercedes Benz C-Class Sedan.

“Nice car,” I say, tilting my head and assessing it.

“Thanks.” Steve grinned and slid in. I got in too, feeling very uncomfortable. I didn’t want to ruin anything. It was just so … clean.

I was used to the old aqua Corolla my mother and I shared. He turned up the radio and we sang along to 80’s music. Yes, that was one thing we had in common – loving 80’s music.

The car ride was cheery and fun and he took me along a little tour of Beverly Hills, down Rodeo Drive. We passed celebrities homes including Jennifer Aniston, George Clooney, Janet Jackson and one of my favourite comedians, Eddie Murphy. I admired the structures of their mansions and even wrote down some ideas for my designs in my notebook (to which Steve laughed at).

After the tour, I sensed we were near Henry Parker's home.

“Lainie,” Steve said, pointing up ahead. “There’s the house you’ll be staying from now on.”

I looked up, out of the window and the sun was setting. Streams of light shone onto the large white mansion where I was staying at.

The driveway was huge and it was paved around a large fountain, where water poured out of a frog’s mouth. The front door had a stained glass panel and two pot plants sat next to the large marble columns on the front porch.

As Steve opened the imposing gates to the mansion, I gawked. I couldn’t believe I was staying in a mansion.

After parking the car in front of the porch, we hopped out and dragged my luggage to the door. Steve fished out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door. He flicked on the lights to reveal the inside – shiny tiled floors, high ceilings with golden chandeliers, and pearl-coloured walls. The windows down the hallway were large, clear and white-paned. It showed a great view of the backyard, where a curved shaped pool sat, sparkling. There were trees and pot plants too, with dark brown resting chairs and white large umbrellas for shade.

The house was so beautiful. If the house was this beautifully decorated, the owner must be a good person. I felt slightly better at the thought.

“Henry!” Steve yelled. “Get your butt down here!”

I flinched as I realised I was going to meet the guy I would have to pretend to be engaged to for the next few months.

Steve told me to leave my bags by the door and led me to the lounge room to my right. The lounge was spacious and quite modern, with the sleek LCD hanging on the wall and the U shaped leather sofa. God, the room was bigger than the kitchen and lounge room back put together back at home!

I took a seat with Steve and as he started talking about the fake engagement, I heard a voice behind me say, “So you’re my fake fiancée.”