Secret Mistress

by Victoria Arabpour Pinder

  He absolutely shouldn’t do as he imagined and strip off all her clothes, to make her his. He rested his fisted hand against the wall by the front door and didn’t allow himself to move until he saw her coming down the stairs.

  Gray t-shirt with a square neck and jeans. Gray tennis shoes. He reached for her shoulder—his body burned for her.

  He forced himself to stand straight and walk with her toward the door. “Here are the keys.”

  “Thanks.” She accepted them in her open palm. “Will I see you when I get back?”

  When he opened the door this time, the gardener was already at work, and the postman was in the driveway. “I’ll be home for late lunch or dinner,” he said. “As you know we’re not filming today, but I need to talk to my agent. Make sure the press knows we’re dating.”

  “Good luck.” She squeezed his hand like they were friends.

  He tugged her closer. They were pretending to be more. Everyone here needed to believe she was his, already, when he said, “Have a good day, hon.”

  Her gaze narrowed but her lips pouted. He tortured himself, but claimed her lips again.

  And once again he was in paradise, where nothing else existed or mattered.

  Chapter 7

  Ashley drove the Bentley, smooth and easy to maneuver to Rodeo Drive. It was like this was someone else’s life, entirely.

  She used to think the Kia was a great car.

  All she needed were amazing sunglasses to give off the “who is she?” vibe.

  She signaled left down palm tree-lined streets to the address on Rodeo Drive Jennifer had sent, and found a valet.

  For once in her life she could afford a valet, even if it cost a hundred dollars for the day.

  Ashley walked the hundred feet or so down the street, hardly noticing her tennis shoes slapping against the pavement because she still floated from Matt’s kiss.

  Seriously, she hadn’t expected another one.

  She passed a small café that seemed busy with customers getting coffee and smelled money in the air.

  This wasn’t where she’d ever shop for herself, at least before now.

  When she’d gone to sleep last night, she’d been positive that Matthew was just being nice to let her crash and she’d slept fitfully, fully prepared to be told she’d have to leave in the morning. She’d kept all her stuff in her suitcase… just in case. Then, coffee, and…

  Her heart soared that she had a real chance now.

  If she didn’t screw everything up, that is.

  She read the elite store names on Rodeo Drive but continued to the address Jennifer sent.

  This was where they’d filmed the movie Pretty Woman, but her jeans and t-shirt grunge style blended with the people having breakfast in the corner cafes, and she didn’t seem that out of place.

  Her mind returned to her and Matt’s chat over coffee. At least he hadn’t brought up the written contract. If she signed something that outlined her place as a pretend girlfriend, she might lose this… bubble of hope in her heart that wished this wasn’t a fake relationship.

  If he didn’t care about the past and noticed her now… then maybe she could… live happily-ever-after. Was that silly?

  Finally she made it to the address Jennifer had texted her or the nearest valet she could find as the small boutique didn’t have parking. She checked her phone and then headed inside. Ashley gave her name to the lady at the front desk who smiled at her and waved her to a private room.

  Jennifer was in the hair stylist’s chair but she stood up and pouted at her in her usual way that most movie-goers somehow found endearing. “You’re late.”

  Ashley put her pocketbook down on a counter as it was just them and the workers. “I stayed at Matthew’s last night.”

  Jennifer’s eyes widened. “Does he know who you are now, or rather, who you were?”

  Ashley glanced at the beautician, who left without saying anything to give them some privacy. Once the door closed behind her, Ashley said, “Actually yes. I told him.”

  Jennifer pointed her toward a chair. “Told him what exactly?”

  Ashley unfolded the wooden chair and brought it near Jennifer’s stylist’s chair as Ashley said, “That I gave birth to his brother’s baby through surrogacy and I was his sister’s maid.”

  Jennifer retook her seat like it was a throne and she was the queen as she pursed her pouty lips. “Matthew must want the role very badly if he’s willing to look past that.”

  “I guess.” She ignored the pins and needles in her skin—this wouldn’t be good if she put her heart on the line but was just a means to an end for him.

  Jennifer saying it was like a dart hitting the bullseye and pierced through her morning bubble.

  Of course Matt just wanted a temporary girlfriend.

  The stylist knocked on the door and peeked in. Ashley put the chair back as Jennifer spoke like she was ordering off a menu, “Let’s get started. You’ll need a lot of skin repair. You’re prematurely aging, Ashley. The hairdresser already knows we want you blonde.”

  “I don’t know.” Ashley couldn’t imagine it.

  If she honestly went blonde, how fake would it be? Her skin wasn’t fair. She had a light olive tone that was slightly tanned from living in Miami and spending time outside.

  Jennifer’s skin was dewy and perfect and she fit in everywhere and she’d look good in any color, unlike Ashley. Her cousin studied her and said, “You’ll be beautiful.”

  Clearly she hadn’t heard their mothers talk for years about how Ashley was the ugly cousin, and she’d given up all aspirations of turning into a swan.

  While she didn’t dwell on it, she’d never be drop-dead gorgeous like Jennifer. She’d never tried. She hugged her waist and said, “Matt wants an ordinary woman at his side.”

  Jennifer scoffed. “And you want him in your bed, never letting you go. So let’s get you in a chair.”

  “Okay,” Ashley relented.

  A makeover to wow Matthew might be one way to pierce through his plans. Maybe he’d see she was better than just a temporary girlfriend—it was one avenue she was willing to try.

  More stylists entered the room, bringing in chairs like they were supposed to be moveable.

  Every salon Ashley had been in before, the chairs were all stationary.

  The staff set her up so there were two people and two stations in the private room.

  A male stylist motioned for her to sit. She did, with trepidation.

  They covered her in a black salon robe that was nicer than the usual bib at her salon and she followed her stylists out of that room to the side where the sinks were.

  They washed her hair and she relaxed her shoulders.

  Even if she hated the end result, she could buy a bottle of something dark to fix it while her natural hair grew back out.

  This wasn’t the end of the world or anything. She took her seat again.

  Jennifer’s eyes were closed in peace as she trusted her stylist entirely. Ashley coughed to get Jennifer’s attention and asked, “Can I ask a different question?”

  Jennifer glanced over at her and winked. “Sure, what?”

  Was it strange that her cousin won awards for things she did naturally? Ashley paused but then let out her breath. “What do you know about staging movie sets?”

  Jennifer smiled. “Shall I ask if you can have that job too on our movie?”

  Too soon was her immediate thought. Would Matt think she was reaching if she took yet another job? Her face heated.

  She’d come to California to figure out what she wanted out of life. Ashley sucked in her lips but refused to bite them. “I’m just curious what the job entails. I have my degree in interior design.”

  Jennifer shrugged and settled back in her seat so her stylist could continue as she said, “Eva’s married to Brandon Campbell, the producer. He’s the best one to describe the exact specifics of the job. He’d be the one to hire, if you’re looking.”

  Ashley was in LA fo
r Jennifer and Matt. But maybe she could actually do… something she liked that didn’t include other people’s disasters. She let her stylist work as he ran his hands through her hair. “I might not want it, but a conversation on what the job does… now that would be great.”

  “Done. I’ll ensure you meet on the set.” Jennifer’s easy way with her made her seem like they’d always been friends.

  Maybe having a baby had changed her and she was… nice.

  Jennifer was not the same cousin right now that she’d known for years.

  Then again, that was exactly how Jennifer got her way. Ashley refused to have the word “sucker” written on her face for her family to see for the rest of her life so she didn’t jump for joy and bounce. She quietly said, “Okay, thanks.”

  If Jennifer followed through, she’d give her a genuine hug.

  Neither one of them said anything else and she dozed as the man worked with her hair.

  The stylist tapped her on her shoulder and she opened her eyes.

  The golden blonde dye made her brown eyes pop. A thrill rushed through her.

  She almost looked like her cousin, in a small way. Wow. She never wanted to star in a movie, but at least now she… she was pretty.

  Everything about her skin felt lighter, her skin supple and fresh.

  Jennifer, dark hair silky, hugged her from behind. “Well, what do you think about being blonde?”

  Maybe now she fit in with all those pictures in Matt’s house. She pursed her lips. “I think I like it.”

  Jennifer pinched her a little. “Think? You look great.”

  Blood rushed through her and she laughed aloud. “With my darker shading I thought it might look really fake, but it matches. I don’t even recognize me. This girl in the mirror, she’s gorgeous.”

  Jennifer winked and handed over her credit card to the stylist. “For the price we’re paying, you better look fabulous.”

  “Fair enough.” Ashley didn’t bother to argue and let Jennifer pay.

  Maybe she should? Jennifer had paid off her school loans and now, Ashley had millions in the bank, thanks to her wily cousin. Maybe Jennifer would finally admit she was family now that Ashley didn’t look like… a former maid.

  “I can get it, Jennifer.”

  “My treat.” The stylist brought Jennifer a receipt and she laughed as she said, “I wish you could videotape Matt’s reaction when he sees you.”

  Right. Matthew Morgan. Maybe he’d enjoy her new appearance. Maybe he’d toss her out because she wasn’t plain. She’d go right out and get it back to brown if he hated it. She wrung her hands as she thought about Matt and said, “I’m sure he’ll think it’s nothing.”

  Jennifer snapped her fingers and a stylist brought a few bags in, handing them to her and specifically taking out one bag as she said, “Yeah right. I bought this blue dress which will be perfect on you.”

  Never in a million years would Ashley have thought Jennifer might turn into some fairy godmother.

  For prom, Jennifer hadn’t even lent her a discarded dress she’d had in her closet.

  But that was years ago. Ashley shook her head and said, “He won’t even be home to see it.”

  “Wear it until he does.” Jennifer pointed her toward the back room.

  This was the end of the makeover. She had hair and makeup already. She left the other bags and headed into the small room, putting on the soft fabric.

  The dress clung to her curves.

  She’d never buy something like this on her own.

  Nervous, she stepped out of the dressing room to show Jennifer and her cousin gave her a thumbs-up. Strange. Ashley glanced down as she said, “I don’t know-”

  “Promise me you will keep that on until he sees you in it,” Jennifer interrupted.

  Ashley met her challenging gaze. Maybe her cousin had meant it when she’d said she wanted to make things up to Ashley. Anything was possible and honestly the dress fit like a glove. She lifted her chin and said, “Okay.”

  Jennifer hugged her.

  And as they went outside, they hugged and headed in different directions.

  Ashley’s heels clipped against the pavement now.

  No one stared at her and her hair even flowed in the slight breeze.

  She returned to Matt’s and drove through the black gates, pulling the Bentley to the front. She stared at the house for a few minutes.

  The two-story mansion could be a movie set.

  The cream walls were subtle luxury and the fountains in the front gave the house a majestic palace aura.

  And so far following her heart had led her here… to Matt’s house.

  His kisses still burned through her mind.

  However, sitting the in car wasn’t going to get her what she wanted in life. She drove into the garage and then let herself in with the keys he’d given her.

  As she trekked across the bamboo floors with her heels clapping, she called out as she put her bags on the floor, “Matt?”

  “He’s not here, ma’am.” An older woman who could be her in twenty years went toward the bags. “I’ll put these away for you.”

  No. She would never turn into Jennifer. She reached out her hand and offered to shake with the woman who had gray streaks in her hair. “Hi. I’m Ashley. And you are?”

  “Rosita.” The maid stilled, her hands at her sides.

  Finally, the woman shook her hand and Ashley patted her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Rosita.”

  “You, too.” The maid reached down and took the bags.

  Ashley chewed her lip until she remembered to stop. The clock now read four so the lunch they’d agreed to was now early dinner. She wasn’t sure how to handle this, so she just said to the woman, “I’m going to make dinner now.”

  “Of course.” Rosita disappeared with the bags.

  Right.

  Ashley fixed her teal blue dress that clung and headed into the kitchen.

  If Matthew wasn’t home, she had no reason to be shy. She slipped off her new shoes and turned on the radio.

  Once she found good salsa music she to dance to, she opened the refrigerator and searched the vegetable drawers for onion, celery and pepper, chopping and mixing, not really caring what she made. She loved to cook.

  She chose organic chicken because it wasn’t frozen so it was easy to chop.

  As she finished putting her vegetables and chicken into the pan to fry them on the hot oil she’d prepared, the music turned off.

  She whirled around and met the blue eyes of the sexiest man she’d ever met, her skin jumpy. She melted from his hot stare. “Ashley, you look amazing.”

  Her heart sped up, but her lips curved into a smile as she said, “I spent the day at the spa.”

  He walked over and then twirled her around, like he was admiring her dress as he said, “I can see that. You’re way too beautiful in this dress to stay home.”

  Seduction was easier if no one else was around—the two of them here rather than a restaurant. She ignored the patter in her chest and said, “I was making us dinner.”

  He waved it off and said, “We can eat it tomorrow for lunch, on set. Get your heels.”

  “Okay.” She slipped them back on.

  Home was where she usually spent all her free time and it would be nice to go out.

  However, if she truly wanted her dream, she needed more one-on-one time to talk to Matt.

  But he led her toward the motorcycle he’d left outside.

  Ashley hesitated. She wore a dress, and her hair was salon fresh, but she ignored the tenseness in her shoulders and pulled her hair up to completely go inside the helmet.

  Once she covered her face, she knew her makeup would be fine. Her body curled into Matt’s this time like it was second nature.

  If only at his house they could be this close.

  He started the engine and turned toward her. “Why did you do this to yourself?”

  Having the helmet on was almost like she had blinders around her eyes and h
e couldn’t quite see the real her. “I wanted to spruce myself up. I told you I came to California to figure myself out, and what I want to do next.”

  He positioned himself on the motorcycle. “Reasonable, but I’m worried my agent will say you’re too pretty now.”

  He turned off the brake. She held him tighter. “I think I needed a change. I haven’t had a day where it was just about… me… in a long time.”

  “Got it.”

  And then he took off.

  Riding behind Matt, like this, was like she was completely someone else.

  They zipped through Beverly Hills and passed Rodeo Drive.

  A few minutes later, he stopped at a hotel. She took off her helmet and asked, “So where are we going exactly?”

  He turned off the motorcycle and took off his own helmet, showing her his devastatingly beautiful high cheekbones. “Drinks at the Beverly Hills Hotel and then dinner at Spago.”

  He tossed the keys to the valet and she adjusted her dress to ensure she had no wrinkles in the silky blue fabric. He offered his arm and she squeezed his hard muscle as she asked, “So we’ll be seen there?”

  He pointed toward the entrance. “Yes. The hotel is where Elizabeth Taylor and Valentino and Sinatra all stayed and the pool lounge is laden with stars and people with cameras who follow the stars.”

  More fake kisses. More fake dating. She longed for it to be real. She supposed she wouldn’t mind if people took her picture while she looked this way but her body tingled. “I’m nervous.”

  He patted her arm. “Don’t be. You’re with me.”

  They passed people who had their phones out. Maybe they were snapping pictures, or maybe they were texting. She stayed on his arm and quietly said, “This means that tomorrow the gossip will be talk about the surrogacy. That might not help your ratings.”

  He opened the doors for her, his mouth close to her ear. “We can say we’ve known each other for the entire year, and that you volunteered to help Peter and Belle.”

  No one would believe she was a family friend. One look at her taxes would show she’d been the maid. But she shrugged as she glanced up at the multiple-storied hotel with surrounding bungalows for their guests. They headed toward the pool.