I grinned at this glimpse of the real Gemma. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”
“Ugh,” she said, but snuggled closer.
I pretended not to notice, and we stayed that way until the song ended. When I led her back to the table, Wilder stood and clapped his hands together.
“Why didn’t you mention you two were engaged? That’s wonderful!”
I froze. Scaglione had squealed.
“When’s the date?” Wilder asked.
“Oh, um, we’re not—”
I interrupted Gemma before she could reveal that this was a huge mistake. The announcement of our engagement had infused Wilder with energy. We could use that to our advantage.
“Nothing’s set in stone yet,” I said, wrapping an arm around her waist, “but we’ve talked about next summer.”
14
Saemira
Age 13 – Fushë Krujë, Albania
ILLUMINATE: (1) to brighten with light; (2) to gain insight through knowledge.
The blue-green sea sparkled in the sunlight, making silhouettes of the boats out in the bay. Saemira leaned back on a towel, wondering if her handsome prince was out there on one of them. A fisherman, catching fish and dreaming about his future wife. Or a captain of a ship, longing for her as she longed for him.
An olive hit her. “Gem,” Engjell said.
“What?”
He gestured to the waves. “Race you.”
She shooed him away. “We’ve played in the waves already. I want to rest.” Like Mama.
Another olive hit her cheek. Engjell was lucky she didn’t throw him to the ground and pinch his neck. But ladies didn’t allow dumb boys to bait them into behaving as heathens.
“Come on, Gem. You afraid I’ll win?”
“Ha.” Her legs were longer than his. He never won.
“Would you light the candle, Engjell?”
Bless Baba for distracting her determined tormentor. Engjell hopped away, leaving her to dream again. Green hills surrounded the bay. White stucco buildings stood as sentries behind them. Her handsome prince could be an actual prince, living in a tower with Persian carpets and tons of servants to wait on him. Clouds billowed in a sky dance. Maybe her true love flew airplanes. When he found her, he’d whisk her off to an exotic place like America or Tanzania.
The hiss of a match made her sit up. Baba and Engjell turned to reveal a cake with a large sparkler in it.
Saemira jumped up as the stick sizzled. “Where did you find the sparkler, Baba?” It was amazing.
“I found it.” Engjell thumped his scrawny chest. He’d become fascinated with his body of late. Baba said his slight stature hid an unconquerable spirit and promised he’d put on muscle in another year or two. Her friend lifted his shirt at least once an hour to check if they had arrived yet.
“You don’t have a lek to your name,” she said.
“I didn’t buy it. I told him where to get it.”
“True.” Baba’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he handed Engjell the cake so he could kneel next to Mama.
Saemira bounced in front of the cake as they sang Happy Birthday to her. Baba and Engjell hammed it up at the end.
“And many more.” Engjell bowed.
She watched the sparkler spit fire as it made its way toward what she hoped was lemon-cream frosting. “Do I blow it out?”
Engjell rolled his eyes. “You can’t blow out a firecracker.”
“How will I make a wish?”
“Say your wish out loud as the sparkler dies,” Baba said. “Get ready. Five, four, three…”
She pressed her hands together.
“One!” Baba and Engjell yelled.
“I wish to find my true love,” she said, as sparks turned into dying embers.
“You already have.” Engjell thumped his chest. “Me.”
She laughed. “You’re my friend, not my true love.”
He pouted. “Why? Because my eyes don’t stay still? Or is it my missing ear?
“Don’t be an idiot.” She hardly noticed his defects now. He was just Engjell.
Baba wagged a finger. “You’re both too young to be talking about love.”
“I’m thirteen,” she said. “A woman.”
“And I’m a man.” Engjell puffed out his beanpole chest, making her laugh again.
Mama handed them each a slice of cake. Saemira glanced at Mama’s rounded belly, hoping she wouldn’t lose the baby this time. She’d made an amulet to protect her new baby brother or sister.
Baba patted her head. “True love will come when you’re both older. I’ve seen it in the stars.”
“Really?” She set her cake aside.
“Yes, Saemira. So good.” He tapped her nose. “You’ll find love, but the journey might be painful.”
“How painful?”
He rubbed Mama’s belly. “I had to lose both my parents and travel across an ocean of despair before I found your mama.” He pecked her cheek. “Mama had to flee her home in Kosovo, leaving everything behind.” He stroked her hair. “But in losing all, we both found the one thing we’d been missing. Each other.”
Saemira pulled back her shoulders. “I’ll suffer any pain or swim the deepest ocean to find my true love.”
Engjell’s eyes rolled about in their sockets. Baba called his eye condition nystagmus, but she liked the term ‘dancing eyes.’ That’s what his eyeballs seemed to do.
“You don’t know how to swim,” he said.
“Neither do you. I’m talking figuratively, not literally.” For being a genius, Engjell could be completely stupid.
“Open your gift,” Baba said.
She’d received a new dress and shoes that morning, but her parents had made her save this gift for now. She pulled the paper off and squealed.
“A flashlight!”
“Not just any flashlight,” Baba said. “A scientific one that uses ultraviolet rays which are invisible to the human eye. When you shine it, phosphors convert the UV radiation into visible light. It illuminates white clothes, teeth, even scorpions, making them glow in the dark. I thought it’d go well with your other lab equipment.”
“Cool,” Engjell said.
She held up the scientific light, already dreaming of experiments she could use this for. “Illuminates,” she said, loving the new word. She hugged Mama, then Baba. “Thank you. I love it with all my heart.”
Gemma
What was his game? I studied Lincoln as he smiled at Mr. Wilder. My boss had treated me as an insignificant nothing all night, until he’d interrupted my dance with Mr. Scaglione with a lie. Then, for some odd reason, I’d experienced major tingles. Dancing with Lincoln had been wondrous, not icky like with Mr. Scaglione. I’d melted into him, wanting to be closer. And Lincoln hadn’t pulled away.
But it hadn’t meant anything. So why was he continuing the charade?
His hand fell to my knee and his lips touched my ear. “Play along,” he whispered.
My body flushed with heat as I focused on the grandeur of the ballroom—the heavy golden drapes on the windows, the chandeliers, the fancy table linens. Everything proclaimed this to be the Prince’s ball, and I was Cinderella. I didn’t belong here, even in my fancy gown. I was Gemma. Saemira, actually. But no one could know that, especially my way-too-sexy boss who hadn’t taken his hand from my knee.
“I’d love to have the two of you up to my cabin in Park City,” Mr. Wilder said. “To get to know you better.”
Oh, no, no, no. A fancy ball for a few hours was one thing. Having to pretend for a whole weekend would be ludicrous. Cinderella’s magic had only lasted until midnight. I dared not push my own timetable.
“That’s kind of you, Mr. Wilder, but—”
“We’d love to.” Lincoln patted my knee, making me squeak as he smote me with another heart-stopping smile.
We bid Mr. Wilder and his crew goodnight and beat a hasty retreat out of the ballroom. Lincoln’s hand burned the skin on my lower back as he led me through the glitt
ering lobby. I gulped, trying to figure out why he’d lied about our relationship.
Someone called his name as we reached the exit. We turned to see a buxom blonde gliding toward us in the most stunning gown imaginable.
“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye, Linky?”
I grimaced. Linky?
My boss tensed beside me. “Angeline.”
Holy cucumbers! This was his ex? Condescending Casey hadn’t lied. She was perfect. Flawless, white skin. Luxurious blond hair. Sparkling blue eyes. A body built in all the ways men appreciated.
“I could feel you watching me on the dance floor, baby.” She batted her fake eyelashes that must’ve cost a fortune.
Lincoln scowled. “I wasn’t watching you.”
She patted his cheek. “You keep telling yourself that, hun.” She faced me, gorgeous eyes narrowing. “I see you found a little plaything.”
He pulled me closer, making the woman sneer.
“Be careful who you hook up with, girlfriend,” she said. “You get burned when you play with fire.”
No kidding. Lincoln’s hand melted my dang skin. He’d never discussed his ex with me before, nor had he explained why he’d allowed her to destroy his reputation. But even not knowing, my gut screamed, Snake! This woman made my skin crawl.
“Guess Link and I are going to be a raging conflagration then.” I put my hands on his chest and drew circles on his tuxedo. “Because sparks have been flying since he asked me to marry him.”
Lincoln gulped.
“Where’s your ring?” the snake in the expensive gown asked.
“Where’s your leash?” I shot back.
She scowled at Lincoln. “I’ll see you in court.”
He whisked me out the door and into the waiting limo. I wondered if he was upset, but when the door shut, he started laughing.
Be still my heart. He had an amazing laugh, the kind that came from his belly and warmed me to my core.
“I can’t believe you said that,” he said, catching his breath. “Where’s your leash?”
I elbowed him.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“For telling Mr. Wilder we were engaged. What were you thinking?” My traitorous body buzzed when he placed his hand on my knee again. Greedy kneecaps enjoyed his attention way too much.
“Did you see how excited he became? It won’t hurt to play along.”
“We can’t spend a weekend at his cabin.”
“Sure we can. It’ll give you more time to charm the old guy. After we get his money, we’ll go back to normal. Plenty of couples break off engagements.”
“Wow. We barely got fake-engaged and you’re already trying to end it?” I threw it out as a joke, but the truth stung. Running into his ex had revealed why he hadn’t noticed me tonight. I was a dark-skinned Cinderella. “But seriously, this is a lie.” My conscience rolled eyes at my hypocrisy.
“Life’s about perception,” Lincoln said. “Wilder never invites anyone to his place that I know of. This is a giant step forward.”
“I don’t know.”
“How much is Altin’s medical debt?”
Why was he changing the subject?
“How much?”
“A little over three hundred grand.” Not that it was any of his business.
“Play along with this business transaction.” He made air quotes with his fingers. “Pretend to be my fiancée, and I’ll pay it off. I’ll even throw in a new car. My fake fiancée can’t keep driving that falling-apart Focus.” He laughed as if he’d told a funny. “What do you say?”
I wanted to say, Hell no! And I wanted him to laugh again. Traitorous mind. I hated how he thought he had to buy my help. I’d help him without any reward. Between what Lincoln and Joe had said, I knew his slithery ex could harm EcoCore. Wilder’s money was key to protecting the company from her greedy designs.
“Fine,” I said. With my debt gone, I’d have more options.
“If we do this, the truth can’t be leaked to anyone. Not Joe. Not your family. Not Casey. Especially not Wilder. The truth could cost us everything. Wilder isn’t someone you mess with.”
He didn’t have to worry. I knew all about keeping secrets.
“Understood?”
I bristled. “Yes, boss.”
He relaxed against the seat, his knee pressing into mine. His whole larger-than-life presence pressing me into a neat tidy box.
“I understand I just received the worst proposal in history and have the most callous, unfeeling, jerk of a fiancé ever. But long live EcoCore.” I gave him a stiff salute.
Lincoln leaned forward to tap the window. “Pull over,” he told the driver.
What was he doing?
The limo stopped. Lincoln opened the door and stepped out, turning to offer me a hand.
“Are you going to make me walk home?” Had I pushed him too far?
He rolled his eyes.
I wiggled across the seat, keeping my head held high. Consequences. If I upset my boss, I risked losing my job, getting demoted, or walking home in heels and a fancy gown.
He led me to a piece of green space, illuminated by a streetlamp, and knelt in the grass.
“What are you—”
“Shh.” He pulled my hands into his. “Do you have a middle name?”
I did, but since he didn’t know my first name, he didn’t need my middle name of Elira. “Ann,” I lied.
“Do you really think I’m callous and unfeeling?”
I gave him a Duh look. “You have been pig-headed tonight.”
“Wow. Pig-headed, too? I have some fixing to do.” We locked gazes and he squeezed my hands. “Gemma Ann Stone, I suck at romance, but will you be my fake fiancée and pretend to want to marry me?”
“Stop being ridiculous.” I tried to pull my hands away, but he tightened his grip.
“Better ridiculous than callous and cold.” He gave me a half-smile. My kryptonite. “I’m sorry for being pig-headed. I panicked when Scaglione told Wilder we were engaged. I didn’t correct his assumption because I didn’t want to look like a liar. But I shouldn’t have been sharp with you.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. And why did you say we were engaged? You could’ve called me your girlfriend.”
“I know. I’m an idiot. Will you forgive me?” He touched my cheek.
Oh, my. His touches were tender, not rough or possessive. Yet a naughty part of me wanted to be possessed by him.
“Will you pretend to tolerate me enough to pull off this ruse with Wilder?”
He didn’t realize how easy that would be. And how dangerous. “It’ll be tough,” I said, words breathy.
“Don’t I know it.”
I scowled. Did he mean it’d be tough to tolerate me? I tried to shake off the blow to my ego as we returned to the limo.
“Now, you don’t have to say you’ve received the worst proposal in history,” he said, shutting the door. “Second worst, maybe. But not the worst.”
I laughed. It was that or cry. But I could do this. For EcoCore. For the money. Money that would help Altin and I get settled on our feet...so we could run again.
Negative Peace
“When one does wrong, one must do it thoroughly.”
The Hunchback of Notre Dame by Victor Hugo
15
Lincoln
Lionel straightened as I entered. “Mr. McConnell, you’re back.” The man always stated the obvious. He handed me a silver box. “Your new name plate arrived.”
I took the box. “Hold my calls.”
“Of course, sir.”
I shut my door and pulled out the new name plate to replace the last one Gemma had bedazzled. “Ms. Stone,” I called, shrugging out of my jacket.
“What?” she yelled back.
I switched the glass to see-through. She grinned at me, feet defiantly on her desk.
A week had passed since the meeting with Wilder, the night she’d shocked me speechless with her beauty and elegance. The night
I’d made a fool of myself by fake-proposing to her.
Gemma was herself again. Sort of. The classy lady in the gown had disappeared and she once more wore outlandish outfits with clashing colors, baggy fits which hid the luscious curves I now knew she possessed, and abominable accessories. Painted toes peeked out of bedazzled sandals. At least the awful braids were gone. Her hair looked soft, sensual.
Good grief. I blinked. Maybe I needed a girlfriend.
“Get in here.”
She gave me a disgruntled look but pulled her feet off the desk and obeyed. I cringed at her tie-dyed skirt and the pompom necklace her son had probably made. Why wouldn’t the stubborn woman conform?
“Take a seat.”
“Yes, master.”
I wasn’t in a joking mood. “Wilder just called to inform me that he’s throwing us an engagement party in May.” My hands clenched. It had been more a command. “Said it’s the least he can do since I’ve gypped you by not yet making our commitment public.”
She plopped into a chair. “You say that as if it’s my fault. If I remember correctly, I wasn’t the one who announced we were engaged. And don’t use the word gypped. It has racist connotations.”
“I’m not blaming you. I’m simply saying we both need to up our game. Wilder reserved the Grand America ballroom and has invited everyone who’s anyone to attend.” Including my family. I shook my head, knowing that no matter what I did now, I’d end up looking bad. If I admitted the truth, I’d be a liar. If we went forward with this fake engagement and I broke things off with Gemma later, I’d be a playboy.
“Whose fault is that?” she asked.
“Mine. And yours.”
“Beg your pardon. Did you say mine?”
I tapped a pen against the desk. “Wilder wouldn’t have insisted on hosting this party if he hadn’t assumed you wanted it. But you proved last time you can handle the heat of the elite.”
“How poetic.”
“It’s on the third. Casey will pick you up to make you presentable again.”
Of Stone and Sky Page 8