Stand-in Groom Read Online Free PDF Page A

that you and Emilio were only tying the knot to get the money,” Johnny said.
    “No, I didn’t. I just told them I was finally getting married and let them take it from there. And they took it and ran. The reception is going to be huge. My parents have a guest list of nearly six hundred people.”
    Johnny whistled. “Holy God, who’s catering that?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t
care
.” She gazed down at her mug and sighed. “I just wanted it to be over.” She glanced up at him. “Here’s my offer: I’ll give you seventy-five thousand dollars and a trip to the Virgin Islands if you show up at the church on Sundayand pretend to be Emilio. After the reception, you’ll fly out to Vegas with me and we’ll get married for real. We’ll go from there to St. Thomas, spend a few days at the beach, then show up at the lawyer’s office with our marriage certificate in hand. We’ll get the money, and in a few days—a week or two at the most—we’ll quietly get the marriage annulled.”
    He took a long sip of his coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. When he put the mug down, he laughed in disbelief. “This is definitely one of the more bizarre days of my life.”
    “I know it sounds crazy, but, John, I really need your help.”
    “You don’t know me. What if I’m some kind of weirdo?”
    “You work for Meals on Wheels. Little old ladies open their doors for you, remember?”
    “Explain to me the part about Vegas again,” he said. “I’m not sure I follow that. We get married
twice
?”
    Chelsea felt a burst of hope. Was he actually considering doing this? She tried to keep her voice even and matter-of-fact. “Vegas is to make it legal. I’ve already checked into it—there’s no way we canget a Massachusetts marriage license by this coming Sunday.”
    He nodded slowly. “Seventy-five K, huh?”
    “Yes.” She held her breath. She could almost see the wheels turning in Johnny’s head. God, what she would have given to know what he was thinking.
    “And a honeymoon in St. Thomas too? How many days?”
    “Four days, three nights.” She crossed her fingers under the table, making a wish. Please, please,
please
, say yes.
    “I’ve got some time off coming to me,” he said, thinking aloud. “Rudy, my boss, isn’t going to like me springing it on him with hardly any notice, but …”
    “Does this mean …?” she whispered, hardly daring to hope.
    He smiled. “If we’re going to do this, we oughta do it right, don’t you think?” He reached across the table and took her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Chelsea Spencer, will you marry me—for a week or two?”
    Chelsea felt a rush of tears fill her eyes. His hands were big and warm and they seemed toengulf hers completely. It was an odd sensation. “Yes,” she said. She smiled at him across the table, blinking back her tears. “Thank you, John, so very much.”
    This was one crazy idea.
    Of course, Johnny had had some experience with crazy ideas in the past. He’d pulled some particularly insane stunts before—like hopping aboard the red-eye to Paris with a friend from the Culinary Institute simply to settle an argument over whether it was lovage or cilantro that master chef Donatien Solange of the Hotel Cartier used in his world-famous lemon-lime chicken.
    It was lovage.
    Johnny had been right. He’d won the argument, but the round-trip ticket had cost him all of his second-semester spending money.
    He squeezed his VW Bug into a half of a parking spot on Boylston Street, wondering what this latest crazy idea was going to cost him.
    He was marrying Chelsea Spencer on Sunday. The thought still made him laugh out loud. It wasone hell of a first date, and one amazingly crazy idea.
    Supposedly it was going to cost him nothing. Supposedly he was going to get seventy-five bills gigundo for the pleasure of giving the lovely Ms. Spencer his name—albeit only temporarily. But if there was one thing he’d learned so far in life