Fake Love Rich Boss Series

by Peterson , Sloane

  I offer him a smile over my wine glass, nodding.

  “Of course, just tired from work,” I assure him.

  “Understandable. I’m sure working for the Windsor family is incredibly exhausting,” he states.

  He’s right. I started working for Windsor Publishing less than a year ago as their main PR representative. The Windsor family lives and breathes scandal. If it’s not one thing, it’s five others. Right now, Alan Windsor, the head of the family who was recently acquitted of murder, is going through a nasty public divorce.

  When I accepted the job, I thought my work would revolve around the publishing world and the company itself. I thought I’d be dealing with author faux-pas and social media rants, not the family’s personal dramas. I now fully understand why their last PR rep walked away.

  “You have no idea,” I tell him with a small sigh. “I’m sorry. I thought just getting out of the building would perk me up. I guess I’ve just been worked to the bone recently.”

  “I’m taking it you want to cut our night short after dinner?” he asks.

  I offer my best please-forgive-me smile.

  “Would you hate me if I did?”

  Gavin reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. I wish I felt those little electric sparks. I wish it stirred something in me other than the indifference that I feel.

  “I could never hate you, Cassidy. I’m just happy you finally gave me a chance.”

  I’m not sure why I gave Gavin a chance. I wasn’t looking to move on so soon after my last relationship ended. I was just looking for company. I enjoyed our first night out because it brought me out of the ‘woe is me’ mood I’d been in for a few weeks at that point. So, I said ‘yes’ in hopes that it would work out for the best. Instead, I’ve settled into a general indifference. It’s nice not being alone, but I don’t see our relationship moving past casual dates. I haven’t told Gavin that yet, and honestly, I don’t plan on it.

  “You’re a saint,” I tell him, taking another sip of my wine.

  “Nah.”

  I think I see Gavin blush in the dim lighting of the room before he adds, “I just want to make you happy.”

  The dinner was delicious. Afterward, we’re walking hand-in-hand to the parking garage and I’m still wishing I felt more than I do, feeling almost guilty that I don’t. I don’t allow it to weigh on me long.

  “Do you think you could get NCC to come to my press conference next week? The one after Alan and Camille’s divorce goes through?” I ask him.

  Gavin laughs. He squeezes my hand and pulls me into his side.

  “I thought we decided we wouldn’t talk about work when we are out.”

  It made sense for us not to. Gavin is a reporter, a natural enemy of the PR rep. His entire goal is to undo everything I create, to search for holes and challenge me.

  “But,” he pauses, “if you must know, I don’t have to try. They’re going to be there. It’s the divorce of the year, people are going to want to know the details.”

  I lean over and kiss his cheek.

  “Thank you, Gav.”

  I think that maybe I could get used to this, this life of mediocrity. I think I could adjust to the idea of never quite being head-over-heels for someone, never quite having that excitement that we crave as human beings, never really feeling that spark. I think that maybe, maybe I could do that.

  And if I have to do that, Gavin’s not a bad choice.

  We walk to his car. He doesn’t open the door for me like my ex did, but most men don’t these days. I get in the passenger seat and Gavin turns the key in the ignition. The car roars to life and off we go, speeding out of the parking lot and back toward my apartment. The silence between us isn’t comfortable. I notice every small noise; I search my mind for what I should or shouldn’t say.

  I don’t know how to make it comfortable.

  “You know, one of these nights, you’re going to have to spend the night with me,” Gavin says, reaching over and finding my hand with his. “I could cook for you; we could watch your favorite movies. It’d be a nice night. What do you think?”

  I don’t know how to tell him that I have no interest in spending the night with him. I don’t want to watch him cook; I don’t want to watch my favorite movies with him. There’s an attraction to Gavin, of course. He’s a gorgeous man, a perfect date. The problem is, my heart’s just not there and I can’t force it.

  “We’ll see,” I say, giving his hand a squeeze.

  “You’re just saying that to placate me.”

  “You’re not wrong,” I laugh, giving his hand another squeeze.

  I hope it gives him a sense of comfort.

  It goes back to being silent between the two of us. This time, neither of us tries to break it. I look out the window as we drive, watching the world pass us by. I’ve gotten more used to being in the city over these last few months, I still miss the sight of the trees and mountains. Sometimes I miss the small-town friendliness of Georgia, instead of the big city mindset of business and rushing around. But, I like the city more than I thought I would.

  My apartment building is a brown brick building that reaches toward the sky. Gavin pulls the car to the curb but doesn’t turn it off. He knows I don’t need him to walk me up. He looks over at me and I wonder if he expects me to kiss him. I wonder if I should.

  “I had a great dinner with you, Cassidy. I hope you get some rest,” he says.

  My mind isn’t focused on responding. I’m still wondering whether or not I should kiss him. I blink myself back to reality, turning my full attention to Gavin. I wonder whether he knows he hardly ever has my full attention.

  “I had a good time, Gav,” I say, smiling.

  It’s not a lie. I had a good time.

  I just hate the fact that I don’t feel the way toward him that I should, that any other woman in my position would. I make up my mind that I should kiss him. Maybe that will solidify how I feel about him. Maybe that’ll change the disconnect I feel. Maybe I’ll kiss Gavin, and everything will fall into place for us. I’ll realize what I’ve been missing out on.

  So, I turn to him. I lean over the console between the two of us and take a deep breath. I let my lips press against his. Gavin stiffens, taken aback by my suddenness. I don’t think he was expecting it. I know I wasn’t.

  I think he’s not going to kiss me back, but he does. I feel him relax; his lips press back against mine with more force. His hand comes up to my upper arm, pulling me in just a bit closer. The console digs into my ribcage, causing a discomfort that I can’t help but focus on.

  It’s a nice kiss. Gavin’s lips are soft. He knows what he’s doing. My lips don’t feel electrified. I don’t feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. I don’t feel excited. I don’t feel myself become desperate for more of him. It’s not the kiss where everything in my life falls into place.

  We part and Gavin smiles at me. He reaches up and cups my cheek in his hand,

  “That was wonderful, Cassidy.”

  I smile back at him.

  “It was,” I agree.

  That’s a lie. This time, I knowingly lie to Gavin.

  “Text me when you get home. I want to make sure that you’re safe,” I say.

  “Will do,” he smiles at me as I get out of his car.

  I close the door, take one last look at him before I head inside my apartment building, and take the elevator up to my floor.

  I enter my apartment; the air is cool. The apartment is dark. I flick the lights on, kick my shoes off, and head to the bathroom to take a shower. I feel my mind racing, wondering if I’m making the right choice or not. I wonder if I’m just leading Gavin on. I think I am. But the alternative to being with Gavin is being alone.

  I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.

  I walk into the pristine lobby of Windsor Publishing the next morning. There’s a hustle and bustle about, the usual. It’s night and day from my first week here where the lobby resembled a ghost town. Noelle is sit
ting behind the front desk, blonde and cute. She sees me and instead of smiling, her face falls. That’s never a good sign.

  Instead of going straight to the elevator, I approach the desk.

  “Good morning?” I offer.

  She looks up at me, “Hey, Cassidy...”

  I can’t help but sigh, “What’s wrong?”

  God. Why can’t I have a week at this job where the world isn’t immediately falling apart around me?

  She sighs, chewing on her bottom lip for a minute.

  “Oliver’s in today. He’s not in the best of moods either...” she trails off, but I don’t care.

  That’s all I really needed to know.

  There’s a chance of running into Oliver today – and I don’t want to deal with that.

  Ever since I broke off our relationship, we haven’t spoken much. We’ve avoided each other at every turn, like in a usual breakup. The problem is, we have to work together much more than usual exes. When we have spoken, it’s been tense. I can tell Oliver is biting his tongue throughout most of our interactions.

  “Thanks for the heads up,” I murmur.

  I give her a little wave before stepping on to the elevator, taking it up to the floor my office is on. I step out, walking past Alan’s office. Alan occupies it now, the door closed securely.

  Mere months ago it was Oliver’s office, back when he was the one who hired me, back when things were good between the two of us. I used to look forward to peeking inside that office every morning, hoping to get a look at him. Now I just pray he doesn’t see me.

  Alan planned to step down from the business after his trial, citing that he needed to give his attention to ‘more important’ things. He planned to hand it over to Oliver. But then the divorce from Camille began, and his youngest child, Allison, left home without much notice. He needed the distraction of work, so Oliver got tossed to the side again.

  These days, I try not to think about Oliver. I try to avoid wondering about him and how he’s doing. It’s a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. The hallway that leads to my office is quiet, empty. When I get there, the door is already open, and the lights are on. My first thought is the janitorial staff hasn’t finished cleaning it yet. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  I step inside, turning my eyes toward my desk. I expect to see one of the nice ladies wearing a black dress shirt dusting off my bookcase, but instead, sitting behind my desk with his feet propped on top of it, is Oliver Windsor.

  I try not to make eye contact as I walk over to the desk.

  “This office is taken,” I say, dropping my things on the desk and doing my best to stay calm. If he’s in a bad mood, I know this is going to turn into some verbal sparring match.

  “I’m well aware of that, Cassidy” he says. “If you recall, I’m the one who picked out this office for you.”

  He doesn’t move. Panic starts to flood through me. Is this it? Is this the moment where Oliver finally terminates my contract? I have some savings to fall back on, but I don’t want to leave this job. I don’t have another lined up.

  “Uh-huh,” I try to stay calm, still refusing to make eye contact.

  Something about those grey eyes of his always manages to get me. I know now if I look into them, they’ll be stormy like the sea, like our relationship. I don’t recommend ever working with your ex-boyfriend... or for him.

  “So, Gavin Panton? Really? The reporter you were flirting with right in front of my face? I didn’t know you moved so fast,” Oliver snaps with venom dripping from his lips.

  There’s pain there and I don’t want to acknowledge it.

  If this were a movie, I’d turn to him and confess that I’m not over him. I’d tell him that I still love him, that I’m only with Gavin so I’m not lonely. He’d tell me how much he misses me, and we’d fall back together. Except, life isn’t a movie.

  I suck in a deep breath.

  “My love life has nothing to do with work” I snap. “We shouldn’t be talking about this.”

  I don’t want to fight with him about this. It shouldn’t even be a talking point between us.

  “Maybe not” he snaps back. “Unless you’re feeding him secrets for a scathing tell-all about my family.”

  He takes his legs off of my desk, spinning in the chair so he’s facing me. I still won’t look at him.

  “I signed an NDA, Oliver” I sigh. “Do you really think I plan on breaking that and being sued to hell and back?”

  “I don’t know. I thought I knew you, Cassidy, but I guess I didn’t. You clearly have no problem breaking agreements.”

  “Are you calling our relationship an ‘agreement’?” I ask incredulously. I turn to look at him, finally making eye contact.

  I see the pain in his eyes, the anger. It’s all clear. Oliver’s hardly an open book with emotions, so either he wants me to see, or it’s so awful that he doesn’t know how to hide it.

  “I trusted you. I let you inside.”

  “We’re not doing this here, Oliver,” I plead.

  We’ve been here before. We’ve fought, he’s pleaded his case, and I’ve felt my heart fall again in my chest each time. I don’t want to keep reliving the end of our relationship. I made a choice that I had to make; I chose me over us. He cannot keep throwing that in my face.

  “Where do you want to do it, Cassidy? Aren’t you busy with Gavin nowadays?” He’s acting like a jealous schoolgirl. He says Gavin’s name in a childish singsong.

  That’s when it hits me. Oliver has probably never been dumped before. He has never been the one left behind as the other person moved on with their life.

  “Oliver,” I say his name with a sigh, hoping to nip this entire thing in the bud. “We can’t keep doing this. It doesn’t help either of us move on.”

  “Who says I want to move on?”

  “We both need to,” I tell him. “What we had, in the end, it wasn’t healthy. We both know that. I walked away because I knew I would never be able to look at you the same way that I once did.”

  “You never gave me a chance to change that.”

  “You can’t change the past. Don’t you know that by now?”

  He looks at me then, the storm fading from his eyes. I see a glimpse of the Oliver that I knew, the one who was vulnerable with me. The one who I fell for. I see that Oliver instead of the heartless, power-hungry one that I broke up with.

  Seeing that side of him makes this choice much harder. Knowing that the person I loved, love, is still in there makes the choice feel like a fresh heartbreak every single time.

  Silence doesn’t linger between us for much longer. Oliver swallows, straightens the sleeves of his blazer.

  “You’re right, Cassidy. We cannot change the past. I’m sorry for lashing out about this. I’ll do better to conceal my feelings at work. I hope you enjoy your day,” he says looking down at the floor.

  He doesn’t make eye contact again, before he steps past me, leaving my office and closing the door behind him. It takes everything in me not to fall apart again right then and there.

  I don’t think that Noelle and I are best friends. She’s just the only woman close to my age that works at Windsor, and she also understands my ‘Oliver’ problems because they dated at one point. We get lunch together most days, which has been my saving grace. If not for Noelle, I would have been eating alone every day.

  We’re sitting in our favorite café down the street from the office, when she says, “So, how does he even know about Gavin? It’s not like you’ve been advertising it?”

  That was something I hadn’t even considered. I was too caught up in the emotions of seeing Oliver again, the argument, the avoidance, that I didn’t bother to wonder how he found out that I was seeing Gavin.

  “I...don't know,” I admit, looking down at my plate. “I didn’t ask.”

  “I would. What if he has your place bugged?” she says it as if it’s a joke but knowing what I know about Oliver...I wouldn’t be entirely surprised.
/>   “I highly doubt that. Plus, Gavin’s never been in my place.”

  “Still?” she asks.

  “I don’t know if it feels right,” I say before taking a bite of my sandwich, and turning to gaze out the window. “I think I rushed into things with Gavin too quickly, just to get over Oliver.”

  “That’s what a rebound is, sweetie. Gavin likely knows that he’s just a rebound.”

  But does he? Because Gavin has been absolutely perfect. I think he sees us having a future, but I just don’t.

  “I don’t know...” I trail off, unsure of what else to say.

  “I’m just saying, I would totally confront Oliver about how he knows about you and Gavin. What if he’s paying someone to feed him information about you?”

  I slowly turn my gaze towards her.

  “Noelle, you are the only person I talk to who has a connection to Oliver and me. Are you trying to tell me something?”

  She looks at me, almost appearing offended.

  “Cassidy Hanson, I don’t know your middle name, or I would use it. Do you think I would sell your ex, who’s also my ex, information about you?” Noelle shrieks. “And if I did, don’t you think I would make my price extremely high? So high, in fact, that I wouldn’t still be working for his damned company. I thought we were friends!”

  “Okay, okay. I get it,” I say. “I wasn’t accusing you though. I was proving a point. I don’t think he’s paying anyone for information about me. Maybe he was just grasping at straws, seeing if I would own up to anything.”

  “We both know Oliver doesn’t ‘grasp at straws.’ He makes sure he’s certain before he ever opens his mouth. He’s smart like that.”

  She doesn’t say it like a compliment. She says it bitterly - we both know it’s true.

  Oliver is a lot of things, and too smart for his own good is one of them. She puts a fork full of salad into her mouth before saying, “I’m just saying that I would confront him. Do with that what you will.”

  “You’re a horrible influence on me, Noelle,” I sigh.