The Commitment Test (The Marin Test Series Book 2) Read online

  THE

  COMMITMENT

  TEST

  AMANDA AKSEL

  Copyright© 2015 Amanda Aksel

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication maybe reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing by the author or publisher (except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages and/or show brief video clips in a review)

  The Commitment Test is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, businesses, establishments, or localities is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9960286-5-3

  Elephantine Publishing, LLC

  www.elephantinepublishing.com

  Cover Design by: Jessica Rose Goldner Bowman

  Edited by Lauran Strait

  http://www.linkedin.com/in/lauranstrait

  For Joe

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A special thank you to my husband, Joe, who was a tremendous help during the creation of this story. I could not have done this without his support and encouragement.

  Producing a novel takes a village and I would like to thank Heather, Julie, Jessica, Danielle, Lauran, Steph, Nicole, and my wonderful mother, Lorraine.

  I am truly grateful to all my friends, family, and readers who kept asking when they could read the next book. I wrote this for you and I hope you enjoy it.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  Love in San Francisco

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marin in Montana

  CHAPTER THREE

  Happy Birthday

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Proposal

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Girls Night Out

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Market

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Other Book

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Happy Couples

  CHAPTER NINE

  Family Matters

  CHAPTER TEN

  Surprise from Thailand

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Miss Independent

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Play House

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Fell Street

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  St. Patrick’s Day

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Mother Material

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  South of the Border

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Sexy Getaway

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Office Space

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  My Taste

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jack is Back

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Sentimental or Just Mental

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Will or Won’t

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  San Jose

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Just Say Yes

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Friendly Advice

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Are You Positive?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Threes a Crowd

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  An Affair to Forget

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The Commitment Test

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Breakups and Makeups

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Mr. and Mrs. Cash

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The Decision

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Coming Home

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Moving On

  EPILOGUE

  Our Special Day

  CHAPTER ONE

  Love and San Francisco

  Commitment begins with the best of intentions. That’s what I thought as I sat across from the couple in their early thirties. Both were dressed to perfection in expensive suits.

  They looked perfect for each other. But looks could be deceiving.

  Silence hung between them in a reflective moment. Tick, tock, tick, tock. It was like the two were playing a game of honesty chicken, each hoping the other would speak first. I was tempted to break the silence, but held on a moment longer.

  Finally, she opened her mouth, but before she could summon the words, her husband jumped in.

  “I’m just going to say it,” he said. “I think marriage ruined our relationship.”

  Dun, dun, dun—Now we were getting somewhere.

  She scoffed. “How can you say that? Marriage doesn’t ruin relationships.”

  “Of course it does, we’ve seen it over and over again. Remember when we first got married? All of our friends were getting married too. How many couples did we hang out with? Five? Five other couples. It’s been eight years, and how many of them are now divorced?”

  “That’s different!” she said.

  “Three. Half of us couldn’t even make it to ten years. Remember Janet and Danny? Those two were crazy about each other until they got married. And now they’re divorced.”

  “Why don’t you just say what you really mean? You want out. Stop using our friends’ failed marriages as an excuse for why ours isn’t working.” Tears slid down her cheeks.

  “Then you tell me, why isn’t it working?” He raised his voice.

  “I don’t know. That’s why we’re here!”

  “Okay, okay,” I interrupted. “He’s right. Some relationships fail after marriage. However, marriage doesn’t ruin relationships, people ruin them and sometimes relationships ruin themselves.”

  She sniffled with sorrow filled eyes, and he pulled a tissue from the floral box on the table. His eyes harbored something else. Something that looked an awful lot like regret. No husband wants to be the bad guy, hurting his wife with words and feelings he couldn’t help but let go of, if only to unhinge the chains enough to breathe a little more.

  I caught the wife’s gaze. “You really don’t know why you’re here, do you?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “I thought everything was fine.”

  “I thought so too,” he said and dropped his head.

  “What are we going to do now?” she asked.

  “You two did the right thing by seeking help,” I said. “This is your opportunity to find out what’s really going on. Is that what you both want?”

  They nodded.

  “Good,” I continued. “We’re going to work on your communication and get to the root of the problem. And trust me, what’s in the best interest of each of you, is the best interest of both of you. Okay?”

  The broken lovers agreed, and I sighed, anticipating an arduous journey. Then, he gently took her hand in his.

  I smiled at the sweet gesture. There was hope for this couple.

  By the time they left, it was the end of the day. I pulled my dark hair back into a neat ponytail and finished some office odds and ends. Just as I was packing up to leave, I noticed a missed call from James. That’s right, my boyfriend, James.

  Almost a year and a half ago, he’d rescued me for the second time from yet another preventable tumble. That was the day he gave me a second chance, and I promised myself in that moment that I wouldn’t screw it up. Or at least I wouldn’t repeat any of my same mistakes, which included being cunningly deceitful and setting him up to cheat. As the saying goes, I turned a new leaf that day.

  “You’re still here?” Andy popped in.

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “You and James wanna meet me for a drink in a bit?”

  Andy was on
e of the partners in our three-therapist practice. Somehow after years of my contempt for him and the stint in which he was my emotional drill sergeant, a.k.a. my therapist, I started to see him as a human being and not just an egotistical, know-it-all prick who only cared about himself. Andy was actually a nice guy with a big heart, but I was sure I was sworn to secrecy. He had a reputation to protect.

  In fact, we became the kind of friends that met for drinks with our significant others. Though, Andy never really had a significant other. They were more like insignificant others. We became so friendly that I even suggested a date with Telly. They went out, of course. Once . . . that I knew of anyway. Neither of them would tell me what happened that night. In fact, they get a little weird whenever I mention it. Both use the same answer as if they were contracted to do so. “It could never work between us.” Sure . . .

  After asking a dozen more times, I let it go.

  “I wish we could, but we’ve got to get ready to leave tomorrow. I’m still not packed.”

  He snapped his fingers. “That’s right, you’re going to Montana.”

  I confirmed with a smile.

  “Are you nervous about meeting the parents?” Andy asked.

  “No, I’ve video chatted with them lots of times.”

  “They have internet in Montana?”

  I smirked and swatted his shoulder. Truthfully, the question had crossed my mind before too.

  “Well, enjoy it. I’ll see you next week.”

  “I will. Ciao!” I swung my five-pound purse over my shoulder.

  Downstairs, pairs of run-of-the-mill push and pull doors had replaced the untrustworthy revolving door during the remodel. As I made my way out of the building, a chilly breeze brushed my cheeks. All winter long, I never got used to slightly freezing while walking the six blocks home in the evenings. Though the city lights illuminated the street, I couldn’t wait for daylight savings time and warmer San Francisco air.

  I dug my leather gloves and phone out of my tote purse and called James.

  “Hey, baby doll,” James’ voice crooned on the line. I blushed.

  “Hey, you,” I said, slipping on my gloves. Much better.

  “I just dropped Marvin off at David and Rachel’s. You wanna sleep at my place or yours tonight?”

  Hmm . . . his place or mine . . . our favorite dilemma. We hadn’t moved in together, but we spent enough time at each other’s places to be considered cohabiters. At least that’s what I told myself to ease the pain that it had been over a year and we hadn’t yet made the move.

  To be honest, I feared a Chad repeat, or at least a version of it, if James moved in. Chad, my ex-fiancé, hadn’t even unpacked his boxes when I caught him in bed with another woman. Most of the time, I strongly advised couples to live together before marriage, but in my case with James, I wanted to wait. In case I was cursed.

  “My place is closer to the airport, and my bed is nicer,” I said.

  “So you say.”

  “It’s a fact, James. MapQuest it.” I covered my nose with my hand and breathed out hot air to warm my face.

  “I was referring to your insult about my bed.”

  “Babe, you can’t argue with a Tempur-Pedic and Vera Wang sheets.” I could use those cozy sheets right about now.

  “Uh, I only understood half of that.”

  Men.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said. “My place it is.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll pick up dinner and be there in an hour.”

  “See ya then, love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Later, I discovered that expensive bedding did not always result in luxurious sleep. I usually fell asleep on my left side, but I couldn’t get comfortable so I switched to the right. Same thing. I flattened on my back and glanced at the clock. Only four more hours before the alarm would go off. James breathed wispy sleep sounds next to me. His warm body heated the bed like an oven. I kicked off the covers and stirred him in the process.

  “You okay?” James mumbled.

  “I can’t sleep.” I shoved my pillow deeper into the pillowcase.

  “How come?”

  I sighed. “I’m anxious.”

  “About what?” James rubbed the sleep out of his blue eyes.

  “About meeting your family. Your entire family.”

  James’ cousin, Emily, was getting married and all of the Young clan were gathering in Montana for the event.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I’m a half-Chinese girl from California. I don’t know anything about life in the mountains.”

  He scrunched his face and scratched the stubble on his cheek. “Mar, it’s Montana, not the old west.”

  “I know. I just want to fit in. I want them to know I’m Young material, ya know?”

  “Shhh . . . you’re over thinking it.” He pulled me in and swaddled me with his strong arms. They were like a protective shield; nothing physical, emotional or otherwise could hurt me. “My family adores you, and the rest are gonna love you because I love you.”

  “Okay,” I said and snuggled into him even though it was too warm. Within minutes, he fell asleep. Eventually, I did too.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Marin in Montana

  It was almost five o’clock in the afternoon when we reached the resort in Big Sky, Montana. Clouds covered the atmosphere, and I couldn’t tell if it was snowing or if the wind was picking up flakes and whirling them around. It was a picturesque winter wonderland, and I imagined every night in that town was spent near a warm log fireplace. At least in the cold month of February. San Francisco never saw much snow, and I had forgotten how much it brightened the scenery, even with the overcast.

  Between the lack of sleep, an early flight, and a long drive to the hotel, I was spent. But I had no other choice than to get my ass in the shower and show up. It took a moderate amount of moisturizer, multiple coats of under eye concealer, and extra blush before I was ready to meet the family.

  My palms perspired as we made our way down to the reception hall for the rehearsal dinner, despite the fact that it was thirty degrees outside. We barely stepped foot in the room when I heard, “James!” James’ mom, Gloria, rushed over and embraced him like she hadn’t seen him in years.

  “Hi, Mom,” he said and kissed the top of her head. The height difference was significant. She pulled away and looked up at him. A second later, she turned to me. Her smile creased all the lines on her face, but she beamed bright like the sun, spilling her warmth over us.

  “Marin,” she said softly.

  “Hi, Gloria,” I said. That’s right, first name basis.

  She pulled me in for a hug, and for a moment, I was engulfed in the scent of her White Diamonds perfume. “You’re even more beautiful in person,” Gloria said.

  Her comment was not only flattering, but relaxing. If I was in with Gloria, the rest would be easy.

  “Hey there, son,” Frank said as he shook James’ hand and brought him in for a manly embrace.

  “It’s good to see you, Pop,” James said.

  Frank shook my hand, his rough callouses scratching my skin. His face was warm, but weathered from his outdoor work. “Thanks for comin’ all this way to keep James company.”

  “I’m happy to be here.” I smiled.

  “Isn’t she just the sweetest?” Gloria said, embracing me as we walked into the family gathering. James’ sister, Amanda, and her husband, Evan, greeted us warmly at the table. Their daughter, Addison, barely six, jumped in to James’ arms, blonde curls covering his face as he held her. I had met Amanda and her family on several occasions. They loved to visit California. Their familiar faces soothed my nerves.

  “Did you get her?” Gloria asked Evan.

  Evan held an iPad with a live video of James’ sister Andrea, who was still stationed in Australia.

  “Hi, honey,” Gloria bent down to face the iPad-Andrea.

  “Hi, Mom,” she replied in her silvery voice. Andrea was like the female version o
f James, sandy blonde hair and Big Sky blue eyes.

  “Hey, Sis.” James leaned in. “You’re lookin’ good. Glad you were able to make it digitally.”

  “Yeah, I wish I was really there, but then again, it’s summer here.” Andrea seemed to laugh at this, but her video stream disrupted and froze her face, mouth crooked and eyes drooping. It was the only thing I didn’t like about video chatting.

  Jacob, the groom, called for everyone’s attention with a clink of his wine glass. The room silenced, accept for Andrea, who continued to talk, unaware of the toast that was about to take place. The crowd turned to our table and Evan silenced the iPad.

  While Jacob gave a brief but sincere toast, my eyes wandered around the dimly lit room at all the smiling faces witnessing the happy occasion of love and family. James rested his arm around me, tickling my shoulder with his fingers. I leaned in and nuzzled myself underneath his chin, and he squeezed me tighter.

  Small talk persisted during dinner, but by the time dessert reached our table, James and I were mingling with the crowd. Emily, the twenty-six-year-old bride, spotted us and made her way over seconds later. She gave James an adoring look—the kind a little sister gives to her brother.

  “It’s so great that you came. We’ve all heard so much about you,” Emily said, after greeting me with a hug.

  “I’m happy to be here to celebrate your special day.”

  “Have you met Grandma?” Emily asked, pulling over a frail old lady who couldn’t take her eyes off James.

  “James Christopher, is that you?” The loose skin around Grandma's neck jiggled as she spoke.

  “Grandma!” James bent forward, carefully wrapping his arms around her. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet.

  “Have you moved back yet?” she asked.

  “No. I live in San Francisco now, remember?” James said, as if it were the hundredth time he’d told her.

  “Yes, I remember. I’m old, not senile. I’m also sentimental and want you to come home.”

  “Okay, Grandma. I want you to meet my girlfriend, Marin.” James diverted the conversation.