by Mia Caldwell
When they arrived at Montjuich Park, the first thing they did was go to the old course, where Connor did a lap in their rental car. It was no longer part of the circuit, but the route remained part of regular city traffic, so it was well maintained. When they drew up to what would have been the finish line, he grinned at her. “Trade places.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not much of a driver, and I’m not even on the rental agreement.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “I’m willing to take the risk that you won’t crash the rental car in a few minutes, Angelina.”
She sniffed at him. “You’re being awfully reckless, Mr. Blackwell.”
He shrugged his shoulders and winked at her. “You know me, baby. I’m a racer. I guess you could say reckless is in my blood.”
With a huff and another roll of her eyes, she slid from the car and traded places with him. Despite her bluster and protesting, she couldn’t deny a slight thrill of adrenaline shot through her when she was behind the wheel of the car, staring at the track ahead of her. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a real race, and that she had never even briefly considered driving a race car before as anything but a scary occupation. She could suddenly feel the history of the track resonating within her.
Sitting beside Connor as he made exaggerated engine sounds with his mouth and counted down to the start of the race, it was as though she was surrounded by phantom cars, all waiting for the light to change. Here she was, in the first grid position, and all she had to do was maintain the lead she had already acquired by finishing first in the time trials. That was no problem for skilled driver like herself.
She wanted to giggle at her own silliness, but when he said go, suddenly she couldn’t stay the impulse that had her foot pressing hard on the gas pedal and sent the little mini peeling down the street with a squeal of rubber against asphalt. She was going faster than she’d ever driven before, though still not insanely fast, as they rounded the corners, and he led her through the imaginary race with his sportscaster-like commentary.
When she stopped again at the finish line, which was also the beginning point, she collapsed against her seat, surprised by how much adrenaline had pumped through her system during the imaginary race. She shook her head. “That was surprisingly intense.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s nothing like the real thing.”
She turned her head and smiled at him, suddenly glad he had convinced her to act so crazily irresponsible by her standards. “I don’t think I could handle the real thing. This was enough racing for me.”
He laughed again as he directed her from the racing area to a parking spot nearby. “I got the hotel to pack us lunch, and this looks like a good spot to spread it out on the grass.”
Together, they spread the included blanket and unpacked the basket. She was famished after the adrenaline rush, and he must have been as well, because they systematically made their way through the feast that should have fed for easily, but somehow seemed to disappear between the two of them and their best efforts.
Afterward, she was stuffed and leaned back on the checkered blanket, folding her hands behind her head as she looked up at the bright sun. “I think this was just what I needed, Connor. This whole trip has been so relaxing, and it’s helped me unwind from all the stress that I’ve been living with the last few years.”
He sighed, a sound of contentment, and stretched out near her, but not touching. “I’ve enjoyed it too. I’m always on the go, and that’s usually what I prefer, but there’s a lot to be said for just slowing down and enjoying the moment with someone special.”
She could have made a flippant remark, something that would’ve changed the atmosphere between them and lightened that unspoken tension that seem to be settling in again. Instead, she licked her lips and turned her head to look at him. “Be careful, Connor. This is starting to feel perilously close to a real date.”
“Well, I do owe you a first date, after all. Sorry there aren’t any hot dogs.”
Remembering the narrative he’d spun about their first nonexistent date, she grinned. “I wouldn’t have room for them anyway.”
He rolled closer to her, still not touching, but now on his side, facing her. “Do you remember how our first date ended?”
In spite of herself, or rather, in spite of common sense, she turned on her side to face him, and their chests were almost touching. “I think it ended with a kiss, because you respected me too much to try anything else?”
He nodded, his expression earnest. “I do respect you. I hope you believe that, Angelina. I know this whole thing has been unconventional and stressful for both of us, but I want to make sure you know that I do like and respect you, and I don’t consider you just one-night stand material.”
Warmth suffused her chest, and the sensible thing would have been to roll away and get up, to break the moment before anything that shouldn’t happen did anyway. Instead, she licked her lips and remained right where she was, watching with a hint of confliction, but mostly anticipation, as he moved his head toward hers, angling his chin so that her lips were easier to reach with his mouth.
It was a tender, sweet kiss and over with all too quickly. He withdrew a moment later, pausing only long enough to press a small kiss to her nose as well before he was the first to roll away and stand up.
She was surprised, perhaps even shocked, by the turn of events, and when he held out a hand to help her to her feet, she didn’t protest. She simply stared at him with disbelief. “That’s it?”
Connor nodded. “I don’t have the self-control for anything else, Angelina, and we both know how this script plays out.”
She cleared her throat, still in a daze that Connor had been the one to call a halt to their burgeoning make-out session rather than her. She should have been the voice of reason, and had she been, she wouldn’t have ended up lying against him like that to start with.
Who knew Connor had it in him? She nodded her acceptance and helped pack up the rest of the things, sensing instinctively that the outing was over and hoping it didn’t signal the end of their tentative friendship.
***
The day of the race dawned, and they arrived about an hour before the event got underway. She remained at his side, trying not to reveal her surprise the first time or two he introduced her as his fiancée, realizing it made sense. They would be having a wedding in the next few weeks, so she supposed it was naïve to think they could have kept their supposed union and its dissolution under wraps.
Briefly, she remembered the unpleasant sensation of being swarmed at the hospital and wondered how much of that was in her future once she ostensibly jilted Connor at the altar, having no doubt he would play up the broken heart angle for much sympathy, and only she would know it was to get sympathy from his father and no one else, simply to get the old man to relax and not endanger his health. She would end up a pariah in the process.
Since she was stuck with the role, she did her best to perform it well, staying beside him as he chatted up sponsors and construction teams, clearly working on making connections for when he retired from racing at the end of the season, if he decided to go ahead as planned.
The race itself was as boring as she had expected it to be, and it was nothing like the very brief stint of being the driver that she had experienced yesterday in the fake race. She did her best not to yawn her way through it, but it was a relief when it was over hours later.
They enjoyed it intimate dinner at a sidewalk café before returning to their room and parting ways for the evening. After the brief kiss yesterday, she had made a conscious effort to avoid touching him, and he seemed to have adopted the same strategy. Reminding herself it was the wisest course didn’t take away the slight sting of regret she experienced when she imagined how close they could be right now if they were just silly enough to give in to the attraction simmering between them and not worry about the future.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on her frame of mind from m
oment to moment, she wasn’t the type not to worry about the future. She needed a plan for everything, and nowhere in her long-term plans could she see a place that comfortably accommodated Connor Blackwell. It was the same for him, of course. He wasn’t ready to settle down, and he had no interest in having a real fiancée or wife, so this approach was better, even if it meant living with a tinge of regret.
Chapter Seven
Three days after their return from Barcelona, Angelina was already ready to go back. They had returned amid a flurry of photographers and news media circling around the private hanger, or as close as they could get to it with security in the way, but fortunately, the paparazzi hadn’t been camped out in front of either one of their homes.
Apparently, the press release Connor’s PR person had arranged to publish while they were gone had finally circulated and calmed down the fervor, at least among the legitimate newspapers. That crisis was technically averted, so she didn’t have to deal with flashbulbs in her face every time she left her home, at least not until she got to the point where she jilted Connor and became the heartbreaking villain in the piece.
That didn’t mean she was freed from annoyances.
Carly and her troop of planners had pretty much monopolized her time since their return. Connor had managed to plead business as a way to avoid most of the meetings and decisions thrust upon her. He had so kindly told her that whatever she wanted was fine with him, flashing her and the assorted ladies present a billion-dollar smile at the same time. That smile had left Carly and the others swooning and hadn’t left her completely unaffected either. They didn’t mean she was jumping with joy from being stuck making all the decisions and helping wrap up the arrangements for this farce.
On the other hand, she was being well-paid to handle it, so she was trying to view it as just another unpleasant detail necessary to keep Connor’s schedule flowing without a hitch. Of course, a fake wedding ending with a spectacular jilting at the altar was bound to put a pretty big hitch in his schedule, but she couldn’t think about that at the moment. Whenever she thought about the reaction she was likely to get after people knew what she had supposedly done to Formula One Racing’s Prince Charming, it was enough to make her stomach churn with dread and bring beads of sweat to her brow.
After the deed was done, her tentative plan was to slip away for at least a week or two, until everything died down, but she didn’t have the luxury of leaving forever, not if she wanted to keep Kevin in the Henderson Center. She hadn’t been allowed to visit him yet, but she received daily emails from his support coach, and pictures often accompanied the update. He seemed a little confused, but according to his coach, he was settling in fairly well, though she knew it would take Kevin a while to acclimate and integrate to any extent, if he chose to at all.
Knowing he was on his path to settling in made it impossible to even think about transferring him to a different facility, so she would have to weather the reporters, their ugly comments, and probably the even uglier looks from the average person if they happened to recognize her. It was a daunting prospect, almost awful enough to make her consider actually going through with the marriage.
Before she could even mentally laugh at that idea, she froze instead when she heard Brenda behind her. They were viewing a facility, since Connor had given William carte blanche to invite whomever he wished. Apparently, his father thought that the more people involved with the wedding, the less likely Connor was to back out, because his guest list was bordering on an absurd one thousand people.
She knew about ten of those people personally, and perhaps recognized another twenty-five names from tasks that she had performed for Connor over the last few years as his personal assistant. With that in mind, the mansion was no longer a practical spot to have the wedding, so yesterday and today was all about exploring other venues that could accommodate such a monstrous gathering. Somehow, Brenda had managed to weasel her way along, and now, she had managed to catch Angelina alone.
With a sigh, she turned away from the glass wall showing the expanse of bluff overlooking the Hudson in the distance. She didn’t greet the other woman, because she could see the ice in her expression. Kitty’s claws were finally coming out apparently. Frankly, she was unsurprised, except perhaps that it had taken this long for Brenda to show her true opinion about Angelina.
“You know you aren’t good enough for him, right?”
She barely blinked at the other woman, once again struck by how beautiful she was, but barely fighting back a shiver at the coldness in the other woman’s expression.
“Do you hear me? You aren’t good enough for him, and you certainly aren’t good enough for the Blackwell name. The thought of you having his children and carrying on his legacy is appalling.”
She continued to stare impassively at Brenda, kind of enjoying watching the other woman’s frustration and anger grow as she remained aloof. “Are you through now?”
“No, I’m not through. I won’t be through until this sham of an engagement is over. You’ll never marry him. I guarantee it.”
“Maybe you’re right.” She strove to sound disinterested. Pointedly, she looked down at her left hand. “Of course, I am wearing his mother’s ring. From what Connor said, apparently William intended it for you instead of me?” She let out a small giggle, as though that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.
Brenda scowled at her. “I’d be a much better wife for Connor than you could ever be.”
She shook her head. “You’re like a sister to Connor, or at least he thinks that way. I think it’s pretty clear whatever feelings you harbor for Connor, they aren’t at all sibling-like, are they?”
A flush filled her face, finally bringing a hint of color to her pale skin and serving to make the other woman only that much more beautiful. If she’d actually been a rival for Connor’s affections, that she only got more beautiful as she grew angry might’ve been enough to make Angelina hate her.
Angelina knew she wasn’t as luck. Anger didn’t bring out her best features. At the moment, she wasn’t feeling at all angry though, and she certainly didn’t regard Brenda as a rival in any fashion. Even if she and Connor had truly been involved, she was observant enough to know he had no feelings for the other woman beyond fraternal. Brenda just couldn’t see that for herself.
“I was going to marry Connor until you interfered. You won’t make it down the aisle.”
She almost laughed in the other woman’s face, but only because of the astuteness of what she had just said. She could well imagine Brenda’s shock if she admitted that no, she wouldn’t make it to the aisle with Connor.
Discretion held her in check though, because she couldn’t reveal anything beyond the fiction they were presenting to anyone, especially to someone like Brenda. “Just give it up. I’d suggest accepting gracefully that Connor doesn’t love you and doesn’t want to marry you. I have a feeling you know deep down that’s the truth. Even if he and I weren’t getting married, there’s no way he would have married you.”
Brenda bared her teeth, looking insanely angry and slightly unstable for just a moment. “His father’s health is on the line. He would do anything to keep William around. So would I.”
“In that case, you should consider giving in gracefully, because William seems happy with Connor’s choice, and Connor said he hasn’t seen his father this relaxed in a long time.” That much was true. Connor had commented to her during a family dinner two nights before—a family dinner which she had been reluctantly drafted to attend—that his father looked happy and relaxed from the first time since his mother had passed years ago.
William had also been warm to her, but she suspected he would have probably welcomed just about any woman into the family if it meant his son was settling down and preparing to produce the next generation of Blackwells to secure his legacy.
Without another word, Brenda spun on her heel and sped off the opposite direction as Carly and Leanne approached. She listened with half an ear
as they chattered at her, offering choices, and she picked random selections. Apparently, she must have done what she was supposed to, because there were no second guesses or questioning looks about the choices she made.
Somehow, she must have avoided making any major mistakes. If she could just get to the ceremony with the same kind of luck, maybe the next couple of weeks wouldn’t be so bad.
And maybe Brenda would completely transform her personality and turn into her best friend in the whole world. Yeah, that seemed about as likely.
***
That weekend, William sprang his surprise on them, which was an engagement party. Apparently, his birthday party where he had forced Connor to propose didn’t count, so he wanted something to commemorate the occasion and an excuse to take pictures.
She was surprised and pleased to find his little sister was home for the weekend, and even more pleased to discover Lizze was an atypical rich white teenager. She wasn’t bratty or rude, and she seemed genuinely happy for Connor and Angelina. It was touching to experience the other girl’s welcome, but it also left her feeling vaguely guilty. Okay, more than vaguely guilty.
She hadn’t given much thought to the people in Connor’s life when she had agreed to continue the charade, not really thinking it through or realizing she might end up liking them, or they would like her. Suddenly, it wasn’t just about jilting Connor at the altar. She was going to be jilting his family in a way too.
She still understood his reasons, and she couldn’t see an alternative, but she bitterly regretted her role in their upcoming disillusionment. Still, it couldn’t be helped. It was too late to back out now or tell them the truth. It would only hurt them worse if they realized Connor had lied to them about the relationship all along.
The reality of events would make her and Connor both seem cold and heartless if his family found out they had schemed and planned their fake engagement and its spectacularly abrupt ending right from the start. Their motives for doing so wouldn’t matter, and no one would believe they had acted from mostly from altruism.