Fake Fiancé

All New Wardrobe

"No."

Isabella bit her lip as she pulled out another dress. "What about this one?"

"No."

"This one?"

"No."

"How about this one?"

"No."

"Okay," Isabella sighed, her frustration building. She tossed the dress she was holding onto her bed and turned toward Joe with her arms wrapped around herself. "We have gone through my entire wardrobe and nothing is good enough for you. I don't know what else to say."

"Let's go," he said, standing up.

"Go where?"

"The store," he said simply.

"Why would we be going to a store?" She asked as she stood up and grabbed her purse.

"You can leave that here."

"Why?"

"Because my fiancé can't buy her own clothes."

He meant that as a joke, but Isabella didn't take it that way.

"I am more than capable of buying my own clothes, Joe. I've been working for you for five years and have saved up every dollar I earned since I was in my early teens. I mean, look around. I live in a house outside of Manhattan. I'm good with my money. If I wanted to buy expensive clothes, I could. Whatever extravagant stores you plan on taking me to, I can afford it."

She was about to storm out of her room when Joe gently caught her arm. "I'm sorry," he whispered, not letting go of her. "I didn't mean it that way, Isabella. I meant that my father buys everything for my mother."

"And he'd expect you to do the same for your fiancé," she finished for him.

Joe looked down at his hand still holding Isabella's arm and finally let her go.

"Should we go?"

Isabella nodded and put her purse on her bed. She started to follow him out of her house, neither one of them speaking. He opened the car door for her, to which she nodded appreciatively.

The entire drive to the store, neither one of them said anything. Joe kept glancing at Isabella, wanting to say something to break this awkward tension but couldn't think of anything. They needed to get through this awkwardness or else his father would never believe that Joe was going to marry this girl.

"I want you to get any and all clothes that you like," Joe said, breaking the silence. "Anything that you feel comfortable in. Anything you feel confident in."

"I thought I only needed an outfit for dinner."

"You do," Joe shrugged. "But. . ."

"We might spend more time with your parents," she finished again.

"Isabella," Joe started.

"How many outfits do you want me to find?" She asked.

"As many as you want."

* * * * *

Joe and Isabella walked out of the third fancy store. The entire time Isabella shopped, Joe followed her. Every time he looked at her, he hated the tension. He wanted her to be more comfortable around him.

At the next store, Joe only thought about changing their relationship from boss and coworker to at least friends. As they walked around, he thought of ways to change that relationship. He got an idea when he saw something.

"What do you think?" He asked, getting her to look at him. He felt victorious when she laughed at him spinning a top hat and putting it on.

"It's a bit extreme," she chuckled. "But oddly enough, you pull it off."

"Why thank you, ma'am." Joe made her laugh again when he tipped his hat.

"It's very. . . 50's wedding."

The two froze at the mention of a wedding. Isabella cleared her throat before looking away.

"Pretty sure my father would disinherit me if I showed up at my wedding wearing a hat my great-grandfather probably wore to his wedding."

His comment made it clear to Isabella that it was okay to joke about everything that's going on.

"Well," she sighed, "I don't know about you, but I don't want a 50's themed wedding."

"What kind of wedding would you want?" His eyes widened when he realized what he said. Before he could try and correct what he said,  Isabella smiled.

"You mean if it wasn't fake?" She chuckled.

"Yeah," he said trying to laugh it off. "That."

"I don't know," she shrugged as she sat down. "I always thought I'd get married outside. You know. Walking out of a building, down the aisle to my future husband under a beautiful arch. Surrounded by the smell of fresh trees and flowers."

She cleared her throat and looked away from him.

"That sounds beautiful," Joe said gently. "Would you want the reception outside too?"

"No," she smiled. "I always imagined it inside a large ballroom. Fancy tables. Waiters. Guests in black-tie. Roses everywhere."

"What month?"

"Anytime in the spring," Isabella answered instantly. "That way it's warm outside without being too hot."

"Colors?"

"Aquamarine, mint, peach, lilac," she listed off.

"Gorgeous," Joe responded

"You know those colors?" Isabella teased.

"Not a clue," Joe chuckled. "How many bridesmaids?"

"None."

"None?" He laughed. "Not even a best friend maid-of-honor?"

"No bridesmaids equals no drama."

"I guess that's true," he smiled. He looked up at her and smiled when he saw the blush on her face.

"Sounds like it will be the perfect wedding," he said, making him look at her.

"All I have to do is find the right guy," she said, sending him a teasing look.

"Or you could pay someone."

"Ha-ha," she said, playfully rolling her eyes. Her glare instantly turned into a smile.

After that, Joe noticed that Isabella started to relax. She actually started to have fun. She started trying on crazy dresses, doing a little fashion show for him.

"What do you think about this one?"

Joe's breath got stuck in his throat when he turned around and saw Isabella in a cocktail dress.

"Wow," he whispered. He cleared his throat but that just made everything worse.

"It must be good because you looked like you just saw a ghost," she chuckled.

"Not a ghost," Joe said, shaking his head. "A beautiful woman."

"Oh," Isabella gasped, taken back by Joe's compliment. "Thank you."

By the end of the day, Isabella had a whole new wardrobe and had even convinced Joe to get a few things. The drive back to Isabella's house was different than the drive there. It was full of music, conversation, and laughter.

When they got to her place, he put the car in park but neither one of them got out. Isabella looked over at Joe and for once, didn't see him as her boss.

"Thank you," she said, breaking the silence.

"Of course," he shrugged.

"What do you think I should wear to dinner with your parents?" Isabella asked, her anxiety building. "I don't want to look too dressed up, but I don't want to look underdressed."

"You look great in everything we bought today," Joe blurted out. He cleared his throat before adding, "Whatever you feel comfortable in will be just fine."