Pretenders Like Us, page 1
Pretenders Like Us
Mary Campisi
Mary Campisi Books, LLC
Description
Ethan Nance lives his life guided by analyses and spreadsheets and avoids anything resembling an emotion. He made that mistake once and suffered the disastrous consequences of opening his heart. Ethan’s a firm believer that data collection, objectivity, and deductive reasoning are the keys to eliminating surprises and reducing disappointment.
And then he meets Vanessa Rodelle, a woman who challenges, confuses, and disturbs him in a way no woman ever has.
Vanessa Rodelle once believed in happily-ever-after, but reality taught her the hard lesson of following her heart. It’s much safer to let data and facts guide her.
And then she meets Ethan Nance, a man she can’t analyze, understand, or ignore.
Ethan and Vanessa might not believe in destiny, but one hot steamy night together changes everything, and no spreadsheets or logic can explain or erase it. Can they learn to trust and open their hearts once again for a chance at real love? It's going to get very interesting and the residents of the small town of Reunion Gap will offer their stories, guidance, and support to help this meant-to-be couple find their happily-ever-after. The only question left is will Ethan and Vanessa take the risk and listen to their hearts?
Reunion Gap series:
Book One: Strangers Like Us
Book Two: Liars Like Us
Book Three: Lovers Like Us
Book Four: Couples Like Us
Book Five: Guilty Like Us
Book Six: Pretenders Like Us
Copyright © 2021 by Mary Campisi
Pretenders Like Us is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and situations are all products of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to real persons, locales, or events are purely coincidental. This book is copyright protected. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Other Books by Mary Campisi
I would like to dedicate this book in memory of my reader friend, Betty Weiner. Betty wrote me a letter years ago when she read one of my books. She sent the letter to my publisher who rerouted it to me. This was at a time before the digital and social media world exploded so the ease of correspondence between readers and writers was a bit of a challenge. Betty and I began exchanging Christmas cards, well wishes, and updates on our lives and I truly looked forward to hearing from her. I lost track of her a few years ago and was saddened when her daughter reached out to inform me of her passing. I think Betty would have enjoyed Pretenders Like Us, and I would like to honor her with this dedication.
1
Ethan Nance avoided small towns, emotion, and women he might actually be interested in. He had his reasons but he’d buried them years ago, and that’s exactly where they stayed...until his best friend announced he was tying the knot in the place where he grew up. Reunion Gap was a small town in the foothills of the Allegheny mountains that boasted family, community, and good-old fashioned hospitality. Just what Ethan didn’t need—more busybodies asking too many questions that were none of their concern. He’d heard it all before, and this town was no different.
You sure are handsome and look at that suit!
Do you have a girlfriend?
No?
Oh. And then Why not?
I’ll bet we could introduce you to a few ‘potentials’.
A side eye, a smile. But you don’t seem like the type to need help with that sort of thing.
No indeed.
No, he did not need help because he wasn’t looking for a date, a girlfriend, and certainly not a wife. Why did people think a plus-one was mandatory to attend a wedding? Or to navigate life? Or to suck in a full breath? The whole idea of a “significant other” sounded painful and unnecessary. And for the sake of objectivity, say he invited someone to this event, what then? Would she understand it was a one-time only offer and not an invitation to share anything else—not his life, his bed, or his name?
Probably not because this was a wedding, an out-of-town one that involved Ethan as the best man. A “date” would make assumptions and it wouldn’t matter how many times or with how much conviction he insisted otherwise, she would believe her presence meant something to him...meant something about them...except there was no them. Never would be. Why couldn’t they understand that he wasn’t the type to sugarcoat or spin a tale where a woman was concerned? None of that because what was the point? He was a straight-up, tell-it-like-it-is kind of guy who didn’t have the energy or the time for tears, misunderstandings, or broken furniture.
If Daniel weren’t his best friend and Ethan hadn’t agreed to the best man gig, he wouldn’t be on the verge of breaking the vow he made twelve years ago. I’ll never attend another wedding. No thanks. Never again.
But he was going to break that vow because Daniel and Meredith deserved it. Still, it didn’t mean he planned to change his stance on weddings or his belief that they were overdone confections smothered in promises and forevers with low percentages of making it past the five-year mark. Daniel and Meredith might be the exception. It was obvious the two loved each other, and if a nonbeliever like Ethan could see it, then didn’t he owe it to them to show up and smile as though he believed in happily-ever-after?
Yes, he did and he would not disappoint.
He drove to Reunion Gap late one afternoon, prepared to suffer through a few days of too many questions, too much emotion, and way too many carbs. What he’d found surprised him. Yes, there were a few casual inquiries and tsunamis of emotion and no doubt carbs ruled. But the people didn’t poke around for answers or make assumptions about him. Meredith’s brother, Tate, was a standup guy with a solid business sense and an eye for style that made conversations with him almost worth the extra emotion and the carbs.
Then there was Vanessa Rodelle, Meredith’s business partner, the woman he could be interested in if life and circumstances were different. Beautiful, classy, intelligent. He’d been curious about her since the first time he’d typed her name in an online search as part of an information-gathering project Daniel had given him. The “project” was Meredith Alexander. Yeah, that had been a real mess but at least Daniel and Meredith had gotten past that, hence the upcoming nuptials.
And Vanessa Rodelle? The data he’d found proved intriguing; the degrees, the accomplishments, the honors and awards. She’d been on the board of five different committees in the past two years! Did the woman ever rest? What did she do for fun? Did she have fun or was she a working machine? No idea, but he’d been determined to find out.
Maybe he should have asked himself why he cared, but he didn’t. Nope, he just catalogued Vanessa Rodelle as a puzzle he wanted to solve. They’d talked on the phone a few times about their roles as coordinators and keepers of schedules for Daniel and Meredith’s upcoming wedding. Who would have thought he’d turn into a quasi-wedding planner? It wasn’t horrible, as long as he could focus on dates, time, and numbers, all of which he compiled into a formula-driven spreadsheet. Vanessa loved the spreadsheets, added a few formulas of her own. Very impressive. Of course, there were considerations in regard to color, fabric, and floral choices, and who better than Tate Alexander to take over that task? The business of wedding planning wasn’t so bad when you could delegate to qualified individuals.
The other benefit of “assisting” with wedding activities was Ethan’s phone time with Vanessa. He’d been curious enough about the woman to suggest they meet for a drink to brainstorm wedding details, but she’d declined. Too busy, but thanks for the offer. Hmm. A comment like that could mean anything. Maybe she was too busy or maybe she just wasn’t interested—in the brainstorming or him. He’d been half tempted to tell her the offer was for a discussion and a drink, not a long-term relationship. But he’d remained quiet because his gut said this woman was a complicated puzzle and until he figured her out, he should hold back and collect data.
The data collection was key. The other critical skill set was analyzing and remaining objective. If a person kept those traits in mind, he could dissect anything: a situation, a spreadsheet, or an individual. Ethan had become quite adept at the latter and that’s why he had no doubt he would solve the curious yet challenging dynamics involving Vanessa Rodelle.
How difficult could it be?
The
She stood at the far side of the room: stunning, untouchable, mesmerizing. Like the orchids he tended that detested being fussed over, preferring instead to be left alone.
Ethan assessed and catalogued the woman’s looks and style. Tall, fair-skinned, blonde hair parted on the side accented with a rectangular barrette. He took in the elegant sleekness of the mid-neck-length cut. Did she employ the aid of products and a straightener to achieve the look? And what of the random streaks woven into the blonde? Were they natural or salon acquired? The answer mattered because it revealed a lot about her personality. Wash-and-go with minimal work and no salon color said she could care less what others thought of her looks or her style. However, products, a hair straightener, and an upscale stylist indicated it mattered what others saw and what they thought.
Ethan should know. He’d spent years perfecting a look that would convey confidence, style, money, and class. It had been a process, one that became part of him, gave him the ability to detect the small details in others that were at odds with their persona. When he noticed the inconsistencies, he dug deeper, poked around for answers, like the truth.
He zeroed in on Vanessa’s face: the cleft chin, the straight nose, the high cheekbones...inched to the eyes. They’d appeared hazel in the online photos, but he wanted a closer look to determine if the online images proved accurate or missed tiny details, like gold or gray flecks. The photos hadn’t done justice to her mouth...full red lips...
Curiosity forced Ethan closer to the woman who’d created too many hours of speculation. He would like to say she was just another distraction, like all the others—a way to fill time for a few hours. Or maybe his interest had been an attempt to avoid getting matched up with one of the women who’d been eying him as though he were a party favor. Engaging in conversation with Vanessa would spare him from more offers like the two he’d received a few minutes ago for an after-party “party” and a hot tub visit, no clothing required.
“Vanessa Rodelle, we finally meet.”
Those full lips pulled into a slow smile as she extended a hand. “Ethan Nance, the man behind Daniel’s success.”
“I’m not sure that’s true.” He took her hand, surprised by the firm grip that could match most men’s. “You’ll never catch me in a woodshop.” A laugh and a shake of his head followed by “Sawdust and a dark suit don’t go well together.”
“I see.” She eased her hand from his, tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear. “You might not turn bowls or spend time in a woodshop, but it’s quite obvious you’re the reason behind Daniel’s success.”
“It is?” Obvious? Ethan didn’t like assumptions and he certainly didn’t like his name associated with words like obvious when there was nothing obvious about him. But the woman’s next words told him her analyzation skills were excellent, possibly as finely honed as his. Not a welcome thought, certainly not a happy one.
“You’re more than just the numbers and PR person. You have the ability to spin any situation, and you’re a fixer.”
“That does not sound like a compliment.” In fact, it bordered on an insult.
A shrug, a hint of a smile. “Consider it an observation.” Before he could dispute her words, she tossed out more observations. “You studied all of the available information on Meredith and then you devised a plan for Daniel to gain her interest, complete with step-by-step instructions. You even gave him a backstory. Untrue, of course, but believable, especially to a kind heart like Meredith, who wants to save the world. My guess is you figured that out two minutes after you read her file.” Pause, a sharp “Yes, I heard about the file.”
“I’m sure you did.” If she planned to accuse him of manipulating a situation, then she should know the why behind it. “Daniel’s my best friend and he needed my help. I’d do it again if he asked me, so if that makes me a manipulator in your eyes, then I guess I am. As for being a fixer? Didn’t you help Meredith with her business plan? Convince her to concentrate on one area instead of hopscotching from one idea to another?”
Vanessa cleared her throat, frowned. “I helped her focus. I don’t manipulate people or situations.”
“Of course, you do, you just call it something else.” Oh, she didn’t like that and the tiny nostril flare coupled with the way she clenched her wine glass was a giveaway. Too bad. He didn’t appreciate words like fixer and manipulator attached to his name either. Ethan’s right temple pinged. Breathe. Stay calm. Breathe. Why was he letting her get to him? Nobody could make another person feel a certain way without their permission, right? Control your thoughts, control your life. He’d listened to hours of audiobooks, bought scores of hardbacks, and still, he occasionally forgot the message. But he could rework this conversation and where it was headed if he just relaxed and pretended this was a presentation to a client and not an attack on his reputation. A slow breath, a smile, a gentle tone. “Let’s call a truce, okay? I’ve really enjoyed our phone conversations these past several weeks, and I’m sorry I got prickly.” A shrug, another smile, and the truth. “People don’t usually question me or my motives. Doing the right thing is very important to me, especially where Daniel’s concerned.”
“I guess I have to acknowledge that while I don’t like the fact that you were plotting against Meredith, your motives to help your best friend were honest and decent. I would do the same and if we’re being candid, I had my suspicions about Daniel being someone other than who he said he was from the beginning. Meredith tends to rescue strays and people in need and dumps her heart into the cause long before she’s vetted it. I don’t work that way.” More wineglass clenching and a firm “It’s dangerous.”
“Exactly, right? It’s hard to do our job, which is run a business, be a friend, and protect the individual from getting hurt when they won’t listen. The second I realized Daniel cared about Meredith, I told him to wait until the mess with Harrison Alexander was over before getting involved. But people who believe in destiny and ever-after aren’t exactly good listeners.”
She laughed, shook her head. “They’re the worst with all of that nonsense about love surpassing all. They don’t want to hear you tell them the dangers of trusting too soon, too much, too often. They don’t want to hear any of it, and the more you try to reason with them, the less they share until they aren’t sharing anything. Then boom, they’re in love, it’s a disaster, and you’re trying to exercise damage control. What a mess.”
By disaster, she meant the stories Daniel told Meredith about being a penniless remodeler trying to forge a living with woodworking instead of the truth; he was the man behind the famous bowl-turning company, Langston Turnings. “It’s a migraine in the making, no doubt about it.”
Her hazel eyes turned bright, the gray flecks in them shifting to silver. “I think they would have eventually gotten past their hurts and reconnected, though it might have taken a while, and there would have been a lot of pain involved. You sidestepped all of that when you sent the video of Daniel unveiling his new work and his identity.” Her voice dipped, filled with admiration. “Thank you. I’d like to say I’d have done the same, but I’m not sure that’s true. What you did says a lot about your character.”
