When Alia stepped from the car onto the lawn of Jane Vincent's house, she was certain about at least one thing: that house was the dream house of every person in the world. The lawn was large, bright and green, creating a beautiful path to the prettiest house Alia had ever seen. Birds were singing in small stone fountains, flowers were blooming in well-shaped flower beds, swaying with the fresh breeze, and there wasn't a single cloud in the sky.
It was like a little sample of Heaven.
Of course Jane Vincent would have a mansion in the Hamptons. There, movie stars, rock stars and top models hid in extended holidays with their families, recovered from drug or alcohol addiction and threw wild parties. Suddenly, Alia felt a little burning in her stomach.
What the fuck was she thinking when she'd accepted to compete with a damn Formula 1 driver and a famous top model, considered three times the sexiest woman alive by People, Esquire and Playboy?
She closed the SUV's door, her eyes still locked on the house, admiring the white windows, the red bricks without a single stain and the amazing grey roof shining against the afternoon sun. Mr. Henderson placed her small suitcase between them and sighed, tucking his hands inside the pockets, looking at the house with a nostalgic expression.
"Well, here we are."
"When you've said house, I thought you've meant house, and not mansion, you know?"
Mr. Henderson laughed, and she saw dimples on his face. "I don't understand a lot of architecture. To me, a house is a house."
"At least the neighbourhood seems... calm."
"Oh, yes. The neighbours here are fantastic," Mr. Henderson agreed and pointed his finger. "There's Tom Cruise's house. A few houses down is Beyoncé's. And if I'm not mistaken, Meryl Streep's house is... there."
Worst of all: he was serious. Alia opened her mouth, and Mr. Henderson smiled, but his relaxed grin vanished like smoke when her voice came to them.
"Look who's here!"
Jane Vincent, unfair with every other mortal woman, was prettier in person than in all fashion photographs or talk show interviews. Alia saw her beautiful dark brown hair forming a messy bun, her tall, slender and pale body wearing a worn-out grey sweater and the legs, those legs that were worth thousands of dollars, walking around with ripped jeans. Even dressed casually the woman looked like a goddess.
Natalie, Alia's best friend, used to say that when Jane smiled on pictures, her ears were too pointy and her nose looked like a boy's penis. You know, she can't be that pretty in real life, honey. And if she is, I bet she has bad breath, or something like it, her friend always said while watching Jane on TV and grabbing another slice of pizza. Alia could barely wait to say Nat was completely wrong.
Jane smiled to Mr. Henderson, and they shared that long and uncomfortable look of two people who used to be in a relationship. Alia looked away, feeling like the ultimate third wheel, when Jane bit her beautiful lips and hugged Mr. Henderson.
Before he could hug her back, Jane backed away, looking down. Jane's gray eyes rested on Alia, that smiled quickly. The model offered her pale hand, grinning, and Alia readily accepted.
"You must be Alia. It's a pleasure."
"You have an amazing house," Alia complimented, without knowing what to say to her fake boyfriend's ex. Jane smile sadly in return and raised her eyes to Mr. Henderson.
"Thanks. I'm happy you two could... come."
A very awkward silence fell upon them.
"Mom and dad have just arrived," Jane said, breaking the silence. "Let's get inside. I'll show you your... room."
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Inside, the house was even better. The wooden furniture and the curtain's sober color and cushions made the wide spaces smaller, cozier than the outside. The oak floors shined against their feet while the group went to the kitchen where, according to Jane, everyone was at.
But it wasn't the great decoration of the living room or the smell of roses in every corner that caught Alia's attention. Since Jane showed up, Mr. Henderson didn't speak a single word.
He held her hand, carrying their luggages with his free hand. Alia could feel the sweat of Mr. Henderson's fingers mixing with hers, and her heart started to beat faster. She hadn't the slightest idea of what to say while Jane led them, talking about the new wallpaper here, the new curtains there and every modification the house went through the last six months to shake away the odd silence.
When they entered the well-equipped kitchen, Alia saw a silver-haired man sitting on a stool, reading the newspaper and shaking his head as if the headlines weren't good enough. By his side, a woman was fixing a flower arrangement on the table, puckering her lips to the crooked petals. Squeezed against a counter, a couple was kissing, and by their attitude, Alia thought they should be in the beginning of the relationship. When all you wanna do is kiss and make people uncomfortable.
"Colin, darling! You've finally arrived," Jane's mother, the woman working on the flower arrangements, raised her gray eyes and hugged Mr. Henderson, who smiled briefly. "How are things, dear?"
"Great Colin! We thought you wouldn't come, boy," the silver-haired man closed the newspaper, grinning and shaking Mr. Henderson's hand. "Dylan, May! Let go of each other's face for a minute to say 'hello' to Colin. As you can see, not much have changed around here."
"Rupert, let the young ones have fun," Jane's mother patted her husband's shoulder and laugh to Alia. Jane had the same eyes and the exactly restrained smile. "What about you, dear?"
It was when Alia felt all eyes upon herself. Uncomfortable, blood throbbed in her ears when she realized that even Dylan and May, the inseparable couple, gave up kissing to watch her.
"Alia," Mr. Henderson started with a robotic voice, squeezing her hand tightly. "Is my... girlfriend."
"Oh," Alia saw mother and daughter exchanging a glance. Jane nodded, as if giving her approval to her mother's silent question. The woman smiled, tilting her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you, dear. I'm Carol."
"Likewise, Mrs. Vincent," oh, call me Carol, dear. Alia smiled. "And I say the same to you, Mr. Vincent, Dylan and May."
The couple nodded at the same time, still hugging and greeting her with an identical grin. Then everyone became quiet. Alia felt Mr. Henderson's sweaty fingers squeezing hers. He seemed about to explode. If you go on like this, this will never work, she thought when realized no one would break the ice.
Suddenly, the well-equipped kitchen became suffocating.
"If you don't mind," Alia began, uncomfortable with that awful silence and Mr. Henderson's lack of attitude "the trip was a little exhausting, and we..."
"Yes, of course," Jane said almost immediately, gazing at Mr. Henderson with those beautiful gray eyes. She grabbed an apple and smiled at him. "I'll take you to your room. Even though you... you know the way."
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Mr. Henderson was on the bed, admiring the expensive Persian rug on the floor with sadness. Alia sighed, placing both hands on her waist, and walking between the couch and the bed, trying to see it clear.
"Look, we can't go on this way," she said, shaking her head. He didn't raise his face, and Alia crossed her arms. Stop fidgeting. "If we want people to believe we're in love, we need to act like we are. That's why we signed the contract."
"I know," he admitted with a guilty expression. "It's just... I don't know what to do. Her parents are great, Dylan and May are kissing and... everything looks the same. It's like in the past, and I don't—"
"OK, listen to me," Alia sighed, smelling the lavender scent of the bed sheets fill the room. "You need to relax. When we met her parents, you looked like a robot. Relax. Yes, it's a strange situation for everyone, but try to act like Jane. She seems pretty... OK with being friends."
To be fair, Jane didn't seem OK. She seemed more... surprised by Mr. Henderson showing up to the wedding with a real girlfriend than anything else, but he didn't need to know that. Mr. Henderson ears were red, and he scratched his head.
"Friends. Yes. You're right. I can do that."
He sounded hesitant, and she nodded.
"I mean, talk to her, be nice, but you don't need to be her friend if you don't want to," Alia said, shrugging an opening her suitcase. Mr. Henderson smiled when she faced him, holding a towel and toothbrush. "You have a girlfriend now, and we'll show her how... funny and adventurous you are. Relax. Everything will be all right."
Alia smiled, but as soon as she entered the bathroom, her grin vanished.
What on Earth were you thinking? Everyone noticed how nervous he was in the kitchen, squeezing her hand and pronouncing the word girlfriend like his mouth was full of sand. She brushed her teeth, trying to shake away the bad feeling.
When Alia came back to the room, Mr. Henderson was on his feet, pacing the floor nervously. His eyes met hers, and he stopped.
"Help me to relax."
"What?"
Alia raised an eyebrow. That came out really wrong. He looked at his hands.
"I'm sorry, but I... it's hard for me, do you understand? To relax. Help me, Alia," he asked, coming closer. Mr. Henderson's brown hair was ruffled and his cheeks were pink, making him look like a lost little boy. "Tell me what to do. I trust you."
"Right," she said before he could dig a hole in the rug and disappear. Alia took a deep breath. Jesus, this is harder than I've thought. "Just think we're... taking a vacation," she added, glancing to an old travel magazine on the couch.
"Taking a vacation."
"Yes. Imagine we're a happy couple taking a vacation in the Hampton's. And... that we've signed up for this very good hotel," Alia said when her eyes caught a yellow headline on a magazine cover on the couch, announcing the best hotels of China. "But we've found your ex and her family, and now we... just move on with our lives, because we're in love and nothing matters. What are we, Mr. Henderson?"
He seemed bemused for a while.
"A happy couple taking vacation."
"Right. And now that we've met Jane and her family, what are we going to be?"
"A happy couple taking a vacation," Mr. Henderson repeated, a relaxed grin spreading across his well-shaved face. "You're good."
Alia placed both hands on Mr. Henderson's shoulders. He stiffened a bit, but she smiled.
"Whenever you feel like you're gonna explode of anxiety, think about that. Happy couple. It's a great strategy."
He nodded, and she let her hands fall. Mr. Henderson smiled, looking calmer than before. A nice breeze came from the open doors of the small balcony, making the lavender scent of the sheets fill the room once more. Alia smiled again and Mr. Henderson nodded. Everything was at peace.
Until someone knocked on the door.
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[ AN ] → Another chapter of TLC is up! Opinions about Jane and her family? Also, I live for anxious!Mr. Henderson. You guys have no idea of who knocked on the door lol — Oh, and this chapter is dedicated to the amazing natwriter! She's going for The Wattys, and you guys should totally read her story, "Her Eyes", a sweet short about love and loss! Go check it out!! ♥ — If you liked this chapter of TLC, comment, vote and share with your friends. I'd love to receive your feedback! See you next week, guys! ♥