Executive Engagement: A Boardroom to Bedroom Fake Fiancee Romance

by Alexis Angel

  I look earnestly into her eyes, expecting her to smile at my declaration. To be relieved that I’m aware of the whole situation. To be happy that we’re together and in love now, no matter how we met. None of the shit that got us here matters now that we have each other.

  Instead, she yanks her hands from mine, backing up, her face full of anger.

  “You lied to me,” she spits out, shock and hurt mixing with the anger.

  I shake my head. “That’s not how it was Cara. You know that.” She doesn’t say anything, so I try again. “Listen, it’s not like I was the only one with a secret in this situation. Hell, I could be mad at you for playing me like this. But I’m just happy that we found each other.”

  “You lied to me,” she says again.

  I rake a hand through my hair, frustrated. Why is she being like this? “I knew the situation,” I correct her. “It’s different. But if you want to be technical about it, you were lying to me too. All along. Fuck, lying is what you do for a living, so stop being such a hypocrite.”

  Fuck. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back. It was the wrong thing to say. I see the shift on her face almost immediately.

  I’ve hurt her with what I said. And that’s the last thing I want to do. I step toward her, reaching for her, wanting to make it better. I should’ve thought before speaking, but I seriously thought it would be no big deal. I mean we should be laughing over the whole situation right now.

  “Cara…”

  “Stop,” she cuts me off. “You tricked me.” She’s practically shaking with fury.

  “I should have known. Here I thought I knew what I was doing, but no. The ultimate player never gets played, does he? Not Liam fucking Donovan. Fucking king of the world. You’re a fucking heartless bastard. Women are nothing but disposable to you, aren’t they? Just a piece of ass for you to use to get off with, then you toss them aside for the next flavor of the week.” She gives me a mocking smile. “Oh, excuse me. Flavor of the day.”

  She lets out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, I guess things were different with me. You wanted to string me along and play your games with me for more than one night. I guess I should feel honored, right? Privileged. Lucky that Liam Donovan deemed me worthy of using his magic cock on me for more than one night?” She scoffs. “Well, guess what, Liam? You think you’re so special? God’s gift to women and all that shit? You’re not. You’re nothing but a pathetic overgrown kid who’s too afraid of anything real to let himself be with the same woman more than once.”

  I want to tell her she’s wrong. That might have been me. But not anymore. Because she’s changed me. She’s made me want something more. Something real. With her.

  But she’s not done yet.

  “I’m disgusted by you,” she rails, her lips lifting in a sneer. “I should have never agreed to this job. I deal with men like you every day of the week. But you know what? You’re worse than they are. Because you manipulated me on purpose. You went into this knowing what you were doing.”

  I can feel my blood pressure rising with every word she says. The rational part of my brain knows that she’s just lashing out because she’s hurt. She cares for me too, despite everything she’s saying. There’s no way either of us could have faked the magic between us this past week. But I’ll be damned if I let anyone—and I mean anyone—talk to me the way she’s talking to me right now.

  Everything I’ve said just now has had the opposite effect of what I intended, so for once in my life, I keep my fucking mouth shut.

  I love her. I know it. But I won’t do this with her.

  So I grab my clothes and put them on as fast as I can and spin on my heel and stalk toward her door without a backward glance, slamming it behind me on the way out.

  Cara

  “GO AWAY!” I shout, digging into my ice cream bucket with the spoon and then shoving it into my mouth. Swallowing at once, I feel the cold spreading from my throat to my brain, and then I just reach for the bottle of vodka sitting on my side and take it to my lips. Throwing my head back, I chug heartily and then wipe my hand with the back of my hand.

  “Cara, c’mon! Open up!” Renee shouts from outside my apartment, knocking against the door, this time harder than before. Judging by the sound of it, she has already resorted to using her fists against my door. Well, tough luck - I don’t care what she does, but I’m not opening that door.

  Yeah, I’m drunk right now. So what? I think I’ve earned the right to be just a little drunk, haven’t I? After all, I got into a huge fight with the only man that I’ve ever loved, and I found out that my best friend has lied to me.

  “Please, Cara!” Renee insists, “I’m your friend, let me in!”

  “My friend?” I jump up to my feet and walk toward the door in a hurried step. Without opening it, I raise my voice so that Renee can hear me. “I don’t remember having a backstabbing friend!”

  “I didn’t -- ah, come on, Cara! Let me in or I’ll have to kick the door down.”

  “Pfft. As if you could,” I scoff, turning my back to the door.

  “No, but I’ll keep kicking until everyone in this building comes to help me out!” She raises her voice now, and I sigh - okay, she wins this round. Walking back to the door, I turn the handle and step back to allow Renee in.

  “Someone’s having a party,” she tells me with one raised eyebrow, her eyes jumping from the ice cream bucket to the bottle of vodka.

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m having a party and you’re not invited,” I tell her, that pissed off tone still coating my words, and then sink down on my couch. I reach for the vodka and take another swig in two long gulps. “And I’m not sharing any of this,” I continue, clutching the bottle against my chest, the room slowly starting to spin.

  “Look, Cara… I’m sorry,” Renee says, sitting down by my side and looking me in the eyes. “I just thought… I don’t know Cara, I just don’t think that living as an hermit slash workaholic is doing you any good.”

  “I’m not a --” I stop, an hiccup jumping between my words. “I’m not an hermiwhatever, I’m a very successful businesswoman!” I manage to continue, waving the bottle around as I gesticulate. “I break men’s hearts and grind them into flour!”

  “Ah, Cara… I’m sorry, I really am. I was just trying to help.”

  “I know,” I whisper, my rational side sobering up for a moment. Looking at Renee, I offer her the bottle; she looks at it apprehensively, but then takes it from my hands and brings it up to her lips.

  “You would have never accepted to go out with Liam… This was the only way,” she continues, but the way her tone of voice changes tells me that if she could go back in time she’d do things differently. “I never wanted anyone to get hurt… But I screwed up,” she says, taking the bottle to her lips again and chugging the vodka happily.

  “Hey, leave some for me,” I say, stealing the bottle from her and pressing it against my chest. “You’re right, though… I would have never accepted to go out with Liam. I don’t do dates, I don’t do love, I don’t do anything. You must think I’m pathetic.”

  “Of course not, Cara. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met, and you’re also the bravest… You’re everything but pathetic. But when it comes to men, you --”

  “Yeah, I know… I just don’t trust them. I just can’t. They only want one thing and one thing only - and when they don’t get it, they kick your ass to the curb. Sayonara!”

  “Not all men are like that…”

  “No. Liam isn’t like that,” I tell her, and it hurts to feel his name on my lips. Opening my mouth, I finish the vodka and let the empty bottle slip from my fingers and onto the couch.

  “See?” Renee starts, holding both my hands now. “I know that you’ve seen a lot of shit ever since you opened Lust Muscle, but you can’t give up on trust and love.”

  “I’m not sure if I can do that…”

  “Of course you can! You did it with Liam. You can do it again!” She insists, ho
lding my hands so tight that I feel my fingers growing numb.

  “You’re right. But… But… He probably hates me right now. I was such a bitch. And I probably screwed everything up. I need to call him right now and tell him I love him!” I cry out loud, jumping up to my feet and grabbing my phone from the coffee table.

  “Cara, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Renee says, looking up at me hesitantly, but I barely process what she's trying to tell me. Right now, vodka is fueling my meltdown - as such, instead of acting rationally and putting my phone down, I start scrolling down my contacts list, looking for Liam’s number.

  “Alright, this is for the greater good,” Renee says suddenly, going up to her feet as well. Moving as fast as lightning (or maybe I’m just too drunk), she snags the phone out of my hands.

  “Give it to me!” I demand, trying to reach for the phone, but she just places her free hand over my face and keeps me at bay.

  “You’re too drunk, Cara. You’ll just screw it up even more!” She cries out as I try to wrestle the phone out of her hands. “Call him in the morning!”

  “In the morning,” I repeat, submitting to her. Who would’ve said that Renee would end up being the only reasonable person in such a situation? “I’ll call him in the morning.”

  “Good girl,” she whispers with a smile, but she tucks my phone inside her purse all the same. Good thinking.

  Ah, shit, no wonder I’ve been avoiding love all my life.

  Love is hard.

  Liam

  I pace around my apartment, restless anger and frustration combining in a tense energy I can’t shake no matter how much I want to.

  I want to call her, go back to her apartment, anything really as long as I can stop this pressing loneliness from hanging over me. The fight with Cara is like a fucking movie clip playing on repeat in my head over and over and over again. I can’t get it out of my mind.

  The things she said. The look on her face. So much pain and heartache there. And I’m feeling it, too. This is exactly why I’ve worked so hard to keep from getting involved with a woman. Nothing can end well if you put your heart on the line. I fucking know better. I’ve spent most of my adult life avoiding this very thing.

  Until Cara walked into my life and made me feel things I never thought I’d feel. Want things I never thought I’d want. Things I never knew I was missing until she came along.

  Fuck!

  I punch my fist into the door frame of the front door as I pass by it for the eight-hundredth time. I need to get the fuck out of here.

  Grabbing my keys from the entry table, I storm out the door, taking the stairs because standing still in an elevator might make me lose it completely right now. When I bust through the door of my building onto the busy Manhattan streets, I stride angrily down the sidewalk until I get to my favorite bar.

  Grabbing a seat at the bar, I order the most expensive whiskey they have, then tell the bartender to just bring me the whole fucking bottle.

  I knock the first glass back like it’s a shot, not even caring that it’s a damn good waste of such a fine drink. Same thing with the second. When the burn settles in my stomach, I slow down, pouring a glass and jostling the ice around while I look around the bar.

  Almost immediately, three women smile my way and saunter over to me on six-inch heels, hips swaying in their miniskirts as they bat their fake eyelashes and bite their heavily painted lips. I want to roll my eyes. They’re like slutty versions of Stepford wives. Carbon copies of each other.

  How was I so into that shit a week ago? Right now I’m totally disgusted by the sight of them. Only out for a good fuck. To get their claws in Liam Donovan so they can say they fucked me, like some goddamn badge of honor.

  Cara’s words come back to me as the cookie cutter skanks sidle up to me, draping themselves all over my body.

  The ultimate player.

  Liam fucking Donovan, king of the world.

  Heartless bastard.

  God’s gift to women.

  A pathetic overgrown kid.

  Does she really think of me like that? She knows that’s not the real me, right? I don’t even know now. And the thought makes me sick. Disgusted with myself, just like she said she was. I don’t want her thinking of me that way. Because it’s not who I am. Not really. It’s a facade, built to protect my heart. The heart that got decimated anyway.

  I shove my unfinished drink away, along with the rest of the bottle, and push the women off of me. Glancing around, I notice there are plenty more watching, waiting to take their place. Fuck, I can’t even get a damn drink in peace without every woman in the place throwing themselves at me. Wanting a night with the city’s most infamous playboy.

  Fuck this shit. I toss a bill on the bar and push past the women without so much as a word or a glance, making my way out of the bar. Heading back in the direction of my apartment, I hang a left on the street beside it and punch in the code to enter my private garage.

  I have several cars in here, depending on which one suits my mood if I don’t feel like taking my limo. But there’s only one I have my eye on tonight.

  I run my fingers over the soft cover that I haven’t removed in years. I hire someone to take this baby for a spin just enough to keep the engine in good condition. Taking a deep breath, I yank the cover off.

  My eyes settle on the vintage Mustang. It’s a Shelby GT 500. My brother’s pride and joy.

  Lucas.

  I swallow against the tightness in my throat. I haven’t driven it since he died. We used to take it out all the time together. But I haven’t been able to bring myself to look at it, much less drive it.

  So what’s different now? All I can think is that Cara’s ripped off the bandage on the wounds I try so hard to cover up. All the feelings I don’t want to acknowledge. But there’s no fighting them now. She’s making me feel a thousand different emotions.

  If Lucas were here, I’d have him to talk to about it. Maybe driving his car will help me clear my head. Give me some kind of clarity about what the fuck I do now.

  I grab the keys from the password protected safe attached to the cement wall and sit down inside, the smell of the leather filling my nose. Blowing out a breath, I crank the engine, and the muscle car roars to life. In seconds, I’m pulling out onto the streets of Manhattan into the congestion I hate with only one thought in my mind.

  I need to get the fuck out of this city.

  Liam

  As soon as I’m out of the city, my thoughts immediately start to quiet. And the further and further away I get, the stiller they become. Driving my brother’s car seems to bring some kind of peace to me. As if I still have a connection to him of sorts. Now that I know this, I wonder why I haven’t driven it before. That’s something that needs to change.

  I find myself on the long, quiet, two-lane country road that leads to the place Lucas is buried. I haven’t been there in ages. But I feel as if I’m being drawn there. Brought to the one place where I might get some clarity. Some guidance.

  Because I sure as fuck don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

  When I reach the cemetery, I park the Shelby and climb out, walking slowly toward Lucas’s grave. I stand for a long time in front of it, letting the emotions run their course, not trying to hide from them.

  I’ve done that for too long. Years. I never let myself think about it. I’ve thrown myself into my work during the day and my playboy lifestyle at night, never giving myself time to dwell on my losses. Simultaneously avoiding letting my guard down. Protecting myself from the assault of pain that’s hitting me right now.

  But maybe that’s what I need. To feel again. That’s what Cara’s forced me to do. And while I’m hurting like a motherfucker right now, it’s better than being numb.

  Because I’ve missed out on so much by keeping myself detached, remaining aloof. I might not have been hurting, but I also wasn’t living. Not really. It was all a farce.

  Right now all I want is to be back with Cara.
Living.

  I go down to my knees in front of my brother’s grave and speak from my heart.

  “Lucas,” I sigh. “God, I miss you, brother. So fucking bad.”

  My chest tightens painfully, and I almost want to run back to the car and drive away from this shit, but I’m hoping against hope that somehow coming here will give me some kind of direction. Some clarity on what I need to do.

  I take a deep breath. “I fell in love, man. Wish you were here to see her. To meet the woman who finally brought Liam Donovan to his knees.” I chuckle, thinking about how much Lucas would love Cara.

  I pour my heart out there in the middle of the graveyard, spilling my guts to my brother, even though he’s long gone from this world. I tell him all about how we met, how she stole my heart from the very beginning without me even realizing it.

  Then I tell him, “I fucked up, man. Bad. I don’t know how to fix it.”

  I pause, drawing a deep breath, letting all my words settle in the silence. I really did screw this up. I was in on the ploy from the very beginning. And while she was, too, she wasn’t aware the entire time like I was. For all she knows, I was just fucking with her the whole time. She has no way of knowing if anything I said was true. If my feelings are real or not. If everything we shared was all part of an elaborate game or if it was all real. It was. Every fucking bit of it.

  But I can see now just how much my deception hurt her. She feels betrayed. Because I knew all along what she was up to, her lies don’t feel like a betrayal. But mine do.

  I blow my breath out through my teeth and scrape my hand over my face. “God, Lucas, I miss you so bad, but the idea of losing Cara hurts just as bad in a different way.” I set my jaw, not wanting to accept that I could have lost her for good. That it’s over.