Fake Date

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Fake Date Page 7

by Monica Murphy


  “I don’t want jewelry from him,” I say.

  They raise their eyebrows, disbelief written all over their faces. “Uh huh,”

  They are both completely unsympathetic. I think they’re enjoying my misery.

  “Honestly? I wish it could all go back to the way it was.” When he was the grouchy client and I was the nervous sales associate and we circled around each other like wary dogs.

  Not the prettiest description of my early relationship with Mr. Gaines, but it’s apt.

  “So you’re resisting his pursuit because…you’re not interested?” Stella asks.

  And here’s where it gets sticky.

  “I—I don’t know if I’m not interested.” The moment the words leave me, I cover my eyes with my hands and shake my head. “I shouldn’t be interested in him. I’ve told you both countless times that he can be a jerk. He’s insensitive. He’s also very demanding.”

  “Isn’t he also hot, young, and insanely rich?” Caroline asks.

  “That shouldn’t matter.” I drop my hands into my lap to find both of them watching me. “I don’t want a guy whose only redeeming qualities are that he’s hot and insanely rich. I want a nice guy. A guy who actually cares about me, and about my family, my situation. My life isn’t typical for a woman in her twenties. I need a man who will understand what I’m going through, you know? And that is not Jared Gaines.”

  They both are still just looking at me. Not saying a word.

  “Besides, I’m not interested in a boyfriend right now,” I continue. I’m going to babble. I can just feel it. “I have too much going on in my life, what with work and taking care of Andie and the house. I’m carrying too much responsibility, you know? What guy would want to deal with that anyway? Andie has two more years of high school after she finishes this one, and then she’ll go away to college. She’s too smart and we don’t make a lot of money, plus she’s an orphan, so she’ll get into a great college, I know it. Once that happens…” I take a deep breath to stop myself from talking, exhaling slowly before I continue. “Then I can finally concentrate on me.”

  I have been waiting to concentrate on me for a long time. Years, really. Ever since our parents died, I’ve put my life and my ambitions on hold so I can focus on my brother and sister. Brent can take care of himself, and he has for years. Andie is still totally dependent on me. Once she moves out after high school, then I can figure out what I should do next.

  I have no clue what that is, but I’m sure I’ll come to some sort of conclusion in the next two years or so.

  My best friends send each other a look before turning their attention on me.

  “Sarah. We’re not saying this guy is going to be your boyfriend.” Heavy emphasis on that last word from Caroline. “He doesn’t sound much like boyfriend material. But maybe he could be a—distraction.” She smiles.

  “A distraction?” I grimace.

  “What Caroline is trying to say, though she isn’t doing a good job of it, is that you should treat this guy like a fling,” Stella adds.

  “Remember how we said you needed to hate-fuck him to get him out of your system?” Caroline asks, her voice sweet despite the words she just said.

  Horror courses through me, making my blood run cold. Uh-uh. There will be none of that between Jared and me.

  “I don’t want to hate-fuck Jared Gaines,” I say primly. Just saying the words makes me squirm a little inside.

  Yet I’m also squirming the slightest bit with excitement at the idea of having sex with Jared.

  “Come on.” Caroline’s firm voice makes me jump a little, and when she slaps the edge of the couch, I jump again. “You sooooo want to hate-fuck that guy. Just—go for it. Clearly he has a thing for you. We’re guessing you have a thing for him too.”

  Now it’s my turn to remain quiet. I don’t know why I’d rather think he doesn’t have a thing for me. Maybe because it would be easier? Living in denial isn’t necessarily a bad thing, right?

  “No man sends a woman fancy underwear, expensive shoes and flowers in a matter of a few days just because he thinks she’s cute,” Stella says, keeping it real. “He wants you.”

  A shiver moves down my spine and I tell myself to chill.

  “If I give in to him, then he’ll just toss me aside like he does with all of his other women,” I say, my voice low. I take a sip from my margarita, then another one. I think I’m going to need this tequila to get through tonight’s line of questioning.

  “So? Who cares if it’s just a quick affair? That’s what you want too, right? You know he’s not ‘the one’. But he can be the ‘right now.’” Caroline smiles, appearing mighty pleased with herself. “Stella and I think he would make a most excellent right now kind of guy. We also think you should totally go for it.”

  “And when you see it start to dwindle between you two, dump him first,” Stella chimes in. “Beat him to the punch.”

  “Seriously?” I can’t imagine doing that. He’s probably the one who does all the dumping. In fact, I’m fairly certain he’s always the dumper, not the dumpee.

  “Oooh, that’s such a great idea, Stel. You could always ghost him,” Caroline suggests eagerly.

  “Yeah. Fuck his brains out for a couple of weeks, then just stop responding to his texts.” Stella’s practically bouncing in her papasan chair, making it rock back and forth. “That’ll drive him crazy.”

  They make it sound so simple. Yet it’s not.

  “I can’t ghost him. He comes to my place of business on a regular basis. He’s one of my clients.”

  “I bet he’d stop going to Bliss once you ghost his ass,” Caroline says. “He’ll never want to face you again.”

  Oh my God, why does the idea of never seeing Mr. Gaines again make me feel…sad? I’m losing it. There’s no other explanation.

  “I can’t ghost him,” I repeat before taking a big drink from my glass. “That’s rude. I couldn’t ghost anyone.”

  “If he acts like a dick to you, I bet you’d ghost him in a hot minute,” Stella says.

  The both of them laugh, and then they start sharing quick stories about the guys they’ve ghosted in the past. Or the guys who’ve ghosted them.

  Me? I sit on the couch and slurp the last dregs of my margarita, the liquor already taking effect. I’ll Uber home, since I took an Uber here, knowing full well I’d end up having a drink or three.

  As we drink and chat and laugh, all I can think about is seeing him tomorrow. What should I wear? I had on my best outfit today, damn it. Maybe I could wear the pencil skirt again, with a different shirt. Yeah, that should work. I’m sure no one will notice. Bethany’s not scheduled tomorrow, thank goodness, so I won’t have to deal with her and her silly crush on Mr. Gaines.

  I’ll wash my hair as soon as I get home. Maybe even curl it tonight before I go to bed so it has that freshly fucked look to it so many men find sexy.

  Hmm. At least, that’s what I read in some article on the Cosmopolitan app once.

  Yep. I’ve got this all under control. Under complete control. When I meet with him tomorrow, I’ll feel him out, so to speak, see what sort of mood he’s in. And if he’s receptive, if I’m feeling receptive, then yeah.

  Maybe he can be my “right now” guy.

  Ten

  “Sarah.”

  I practically jump out of my skin at the sound of Marlo’s soft voice calling my name. I’m hiding in the back room, waiting for my one o’clock appointment to show up. I’m also a bundle of nerves, I have been all day, and I’ve also been a clumsy mess.

  Hence the reason I’m in the back room, retagging clearance panties with their sales prices instead of knocking into displays out on the sales floor. Marlo’s the one who’s worked with customers today, which she doesn’t do very often anymore, considering she owns the place.

  That goes to show just how ridiculously bad I’ve been acting all day.

  “Yes, Marlo?” I smile up at my boss, a mountain of lacy panties piled in my lap.
>
  “Your appointment is here. Mr. Gaines.” She moves closer to me, her voice lowering to just above a whisper, her crimson lips curled into a frown. “This is unlike him. Wasn’t he just in here last week?”

  “Um, yes. He was.” I toss the panties into the box I picked them out of, and rise to my feet, my ankles wobbly. I am nothing like the confident, purposeful woman I was yesterday, strutting around the store in my power Louboutins. See what this man does to me? He zaps me of my strength. No man should have that kind of power. “I guess he needs something else? Found another paramour in a week’s time, perhaps?”

  “Mmmhmm.” Her skeptical expression tells me she doesn’t believe my explanation for a second. “I think he might be here for—other purposes.”

  I don’t respond. How can I when she’s right? Instead, I shake my hair back, tug my pencil skirt into place and, without another word, stride out into the store, my gaze scanning the room for my client.

  I find him within seconds, standing near the front by the doors, yet I see he’s already found me. His gaze is on my feet, specifically my shoes, and I straighten my spine, increasing my pace as I make my way toward him.

  “Mr. Gaines,” I say, pasting on my best customer smile when he lifts his gaze to mine. His dark brown eyes flash with an unfamiliar gleam and my breath catches in the back of my throat. “Back so soon, I see.”

  “You know I can’t resist you, Miss Harrison.” His smile is slow. Wolfish, if that’s really a thing. I read it in a romance novel once, thought it was kind of silly, but right now, it’s working for Jared.

  His entire demeanor right now reminds me of a predatory creature. His face is all hard lines—stern, straight nose, granite jaw, sharp cheekbones, steely eyes. Yet his mouth, his lips are soft. Full. Lush.

  Kissable.

  Shaking my head at the wayward thought, I return his smile, trying my best to remain polite. Professional.

  “Is there anything in particular you’re looking for this afternoon?” I’m surprised by how steady my voice is, considering I feel like my insides are sloshing back and forth, like I’m on a boat in the middle of the ocean.

  “You don’t have anything pulled aside for my appointment?” He raises a single brow, the expression on his face practically daring me to say no.

  Well, guess what? I’m about to say it.

  “No, I didn’t pull anything aside.” I shrug when he glares at me. “You never told me the nature of your visit.”

  He glances about, making sure no one is around, I’d assume. And lucky for him, there’s no one in the store currently. It’s the middle of the week, early afternoon. We normally don’t get too many customers at this time.

  We are the only two people in here. Even Marlo has disappeared.

  “Perhaps you can show me some of your newer items,” he suggests.

  “I can do that.” All new arrivals are at the front of the store, so we’re in the right spot. I lead him to a table showcasing our latest bra and panty design. “Celestial is the theme for spring into summer.”

  I point to the bras made of thin, sheer netting and pink silk, tiny pale pink stars stitched in a scattered pattern across the tulle fabric. They leave nothing to the imagination, and the panties are the same.

  “They hide nothing.” He holds up a pair of brief-cut panties, turning them this way and that. Every time he holds underwear in those big hands of his, I melt a little inside. I don’t know why he affects me like this.

  “You’re right. They don’t,” I agree, grabbing a thong and flipping it over to the thin string of lace that makes up the backside. “But they’re terribly sweet.”

  “Sweet?”

  I glance up to find him watching me. “Sweet yet sexy,” I counter, my cheeks going hot from the way he’s studying me so carefully.

  “You like the celestial theme?”

  I nod. Press my lips together so I don’t say something I regret. Like, I love this theme, or Do you want me to model the panties for you?

  Yeah. That’s a bad idea.

  “What’s your favorite piece?”

  Without hesitation I reach for the teddy that’s part of the collection. Thin, lacy pink straps. Pink lace bands the leg line, and there’s a pink silk sash belt to tie around the waist. The teddy is one hundred percent see-through, the scattered pink stars not large enough to hide anything. Not a nipple, not a pubic hair, nothing. It’s a beautiful piece. Completely impractical. Utterly sexy.

  Outrageously expensive.

  “It’s—interesting.” He takes the piece from me, his fingers brushing against mine, and just like that, I feel the jolt. An electric current that starts at the tips of my fingers and rushes up my arm, travels across my chest, down my stomach, settling…

  Between my legs.

  My knees are wobbly, and I shift my weight from one foot to the other.

  “It’s also pricey,” I tell him, my voice weak.

  “I don’t mind the cost if I like it. You should know this by now, Sarah.” He sends me a stern look, but the way his voice caresses my name when he says it, oh God.

  This isn’t good. Not good.

  Or maybe it is good. According to Caroline and Stella, it’s perfect. This is what I want. What he wants. That “right now” moment could be happening.

  My problem? I’m clueless when it comes to handling this type of stuff.

  I watch as he checks the price tag, his lips pursing as he emits a low whistle. “Four hundred dollars.”

  “I told you it was pricey.” I clear my throat, hating how shaky my voice has become. He’s standing so close, I can feel his body heat radiating toward me, and I can smell him. Clean. Like the ocean. Like clean, fragrant man. I inhale as discreetly as possible, taking in his scent, and I’m so thankful he doesn’t seem to notice.

  “You want it?”

  I lift my head, our gazes meeting. “Excuse me?”

  “I want to buy this for you.” He glances at the tag once more, his gaze narrowing. “Is this the correct size?”

  It’s a medium. I paw through the remaining sizes, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when I find what I want. “This one is.”

  He takes it from me. “Right. A small.” His gaze goes to my chest but doesn’t linger. Is he actually turning into a gentleman? Miracles can happen. “And what’s your bra size again?”

  “A thirty-four C.” I fight the embarrassment that wants to take over me. It’s hard to change. To be bold and tell him that I want this—whatever this is that’s happening between us. Being so close to him unnerves me. Makes me think I don’t want this at all. That I’m just playing a game that I know I will definitely lose. “You shouldn’t buy it for me.”

  “You’re contradicting yourself,” he points out.

  “Because you confuse me. I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

  “I like buying you things.” His voice is a low growl, vibrating across my skin.

  “Oh, trust me, I know.” It’s fairly obvious.

  “And you like receiving them.” His gaze drops to my feet. “I see you’re wearing the shoes. They look good on you.”

  “I love them.” That I won’t hold back on. Honesty. Because I do love these stupid shoes, even though I know I should’ve returned them to him. “They’re gorgeous.”

  “Have you worn your first gift yet?”

  I drop my head, suddenly unable to face him. I touch the closest pair of panties on the table, my fingers sliding across the embroidered stars. “No.”

  “You didn’t like the set.”

  I’m wimping out. I can’t keep this up. He’s too much for me. “I can’t accept it, Mr. Gaines. What we’re doing is…” My voice drifts and I heave a big sigh, shaking my head. “This shouldn’t be happening.”

  Reaching out, he traces his finger along the edge of my jaw. I suck in a harsh breath at his delicate touch, my lips parting. Without thought I reach out, gripping the edge of the table next to us as he tucks his finger beneath my chin and tips my fa
ce up so I have no choice but to look at him. “Do you want it to happen?” he asks softly.

  I stare up at him, my voice gone, my thoughts scrambling. His thumb skims back and forth beneath my chin, making me tremble, and his gaze settles on my lips. God, it’s almost like he’s moving in so he can kiss me. Do I actually want this? If this would’ve happened immediately after the encouraging pep talk from my friends last night, my body fueled by tequila, I would’ve said yes without hesitation.

  But now it’s the next day. I’ve had a little distance, some sleep, a minor hangover and a chance to worry nonstop the entire morning. With him standing right here, right now, staring at me, touching me, those dark, all-knowing eyes boring into me as if he can see my soul, I hesitate. He scares me.

  So much.

  “I know you want it. I can see it in your eyes,” he murmurs, his mouth hovering above mine. I can feel his warm breath drift across my lips and I close my eyes, anticipating that first delicious contact of his mouth on mine.

  “Sarah dear, are you still with—oh.”

  Jared’s fingers drop from my chin and I turn away from him to find Marlo standing there, watching us with a shrewd gaze, her lips tilted up in the barest smile. Did she see the way he touched me? How he was about to kiss me?

  God, I hope not.

  Leave it to my boss to quickly regain her composure and act like she hasn’t seen a thing. “Mr. Gaines,” Marlo says warmly as she comes closer to us. “So good to have you back in the store yet again.” Oooh, she said that last bit on purpose. Probably wants to know what he’s up to, considering how often he keeps coming by.

  “Sarah was showing me your newest line,” he says, his voice as smooth as ever.

  “You like it? We all think it’s absolutely adorable,” Marlo says, clasping her hands together.

  “Adorable is one way to put it.” His tone is teasing, and I wonder what his expression looks like.

  I wouldn’t know, considering at this particular moment, I can’t face him.

  “Are you going to pick something up for one of your lady friends?” Marlo asks innocently.

 

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