by Brie Kraus
With a huff, Emma stormed off to her room and emerged 15 minutes later with dry hair, mascara, and a little blue dress which managed to say “I’m not trying too hard, but still, I’m gorgeous.”
Julian’s eyes roamed up and down her body from his lazy position on the couch, ending with another one of those smiles which made Emma’s heart falter for a second, but only a second. To her dismay, she noticed that the only alternation he’d made to his wardrobe was a beaten up leather jacket.
Emma glared at him. “So you don’t have to change?”
“Why would I? I always look good.”
“AH!” Emma shrieked, disgusted, before turning and stomping out the door.
Emma heard him laugh as he jogged to catch up to her, tangling his hand with hers when he got there. She stopped mid stride and glared at their locked hands. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.
“Holding hands with my fiancée.” Jules leant in closer to whisper, “We’re supposed to be in love remember?”
Emma’s thoughts blurred for a second. He smelled wonderful: peppermint and that odor that precedes thunderstorm. She mentally slapped herself again. “Yes I remember, but while no one’s going to see, us we should be on a strictly no contact terms. When we get to the lobby, you can hold my hand.”
Jules released her hand. “Can’t wait.”
Emma groaned. This was going to be the longest fake engagement ever.
Chapter 11
The elevator ride dragged, causing Emma’s hand to tingle with each passing second. She needed to be able to think right now; she needed to be able to figure out how she was going to pull this off. Obviously, she wasn’t going to marry Luke, and the thought of marrying Julian made her face pucker the way lemons did. Emma just needed a little time, just a while to convince Luke that he didn’t have a chance with her, so that he would leave and forget about their engagement, but she couldn’t afford focus on any of these things—couldn’t focus on her very important, very tragic upcoming future because she still tingled from Julian. Emma glared at him. He smiled to himself the entire way down; his full lips pulled back in a way that said he was very pleased with himself.
Damn him!
As soon as the doors slid open Julian locked his fingers with hers. “I’m so glad we’re back together.”
Emma resisted the urge to break his fingers under hers. Instead, she just gave Julian an amazing ear to ear grin, and while it was clearly the most sarcastic thing in history, just seeing her smile made Julian’s witty response die in his throat.
She smiled again, this time with victory, and tugged him towards the revolving doors. They both jerked to a halt when a dark voice whipped across the lobby.
“Amanda!”
Emma sighed and she heard Julian chuckle “Amanda” at her back.
“Luke,” she replied, plastering on another fake smile, “I thought you would have left by now. At least, I hoped you would have.”
Luke raised a dark eyebrow. “No such luck,” he said, in a jovial tone.
“Well, we’d love to stay and chat, but, actually, Julian and I have a dinner to get to, and I might puke if I stay around you much longer.”
With that and a glare Emma pulled Julian away. “Come on, babe, I can’t wait to get you alone,” she seductively whispered into Jules’ ear, but loud enough for Luke to overhear. Emma almost heard his jaw snap shut behind them.
Jules leant down and grazed his lips against her earlobe. “I can’t wait either,” he whispered.
Emma gulped, but was interrupted again by Luke.
“Oh and Amanda, I’ve managed to check in just down the hall from you. That way I’ll be able to show your father around when he gets here.”
Emma stopped. “Father’s coming?”
Luke smiled. “He leaves New York tomorrow. He can’t wait to meet your…fiancée.”
Okay, Emma thought, this night was not going well.
She had been so dazed by Luke mentioning that her father was coming to London, that she hadn’t been prepared when she burst through the revolving doors of the Ritz hand in hand with Julian, only to be met by 20 photographers and a whole slew of screaming fans.
It was insanity, as though they all thought they were dying, and a picture of Julian would save them. She wanted to call them crazy and desperate, but she couldn’t blame them for thinking he was something worth worshipping. On the outside, he was practically a god, if only the inside was a little more shiny.
Though Emma did not understand their fascination for the rock star, she still couldn’t figure out why in the hell they looked like they wanted a piece of her! Her vision blurred from all of the camera flashes which had gone off right in her face, and she could have sworn she heard someone describing every detail of her outfit into a little portable recorder, telling her that she would have to dress with more care.
20 minutes later Julian had elbowed his way through the crowd, smiling and waving the entire time, to a waiting car in which they had spent a silent ride with Emma’s head between her knees trying to stop the dizziness. They arrived at a small, smoky restaurant tucked away from all of the bustle of London. Emma let out a heavy sigh of relief as Julian guided her to a dark booth and ordered her a comforting hot chocolate.
“That was—is it always like that?” she asked, looking up to see his gray eyes laughing.
“Pretty much,” he said. “What can I say? I’m a pretty popular guy.”
Emma slapped her forehead with her palm. She would never feel sorry for him again.
“No wonder you couldn’t get someone to be your girlfriend before. When you’re not being totally conceited, then your date is getting mauled outside of every doorway.”
“Not every doorway.”
Emma’s eyes narrowed. “You are infuriating.”
“You’re cute when you’re angry. Lucky for me, considering you’re, pretty much, always angry.” Jules smirked at her, a bit of the devil in his grin.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Why should I be cheery? In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been forced into two engagements, fled the country, and been assaulted by your groupies twice in the last 24 hours.”
This did warrant her a serious look from Julian for once. “About that, I think you should tell me exactly what’s going on with you and Luke?”
Chapter 12
Emma looked away. “There’s not much to tell.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Julian replied. “For some reason, I find it hard to believe that an engagement isn’t much to tell.”
Emma’s face tightened. “It wasn’t a real engagement.”
“Luke seems to think it was.”
“Luke’s an asshole.”
Jules chuckled. “Yeah, I kind of gathered that, but I still don’t understand why you needed someone to pretend to be your fiancée so you could get out of marrying him?”
Emma sighed and Jules moved closer to her in the booth.
“Growing up I spent half my time between Maine and New York and I—I guess we were always wealthy. I never really thought about it, I just knew that I went to good schools and had nice things, I never thought about where they came from, but when I was 16 I went to spend my summer in New York, and my father introduced me to Luke.” She grimaced at Jules, almost apologetically.
“I had a huge crush on him the moment I saw him. He was so confident and sure of himself, and so sure of me. He knew that I would like him. But I always stayed away; he was four years older than me and really he—he scared me a little, but I thought that was just because I liked him so much, and because his family was so rich. Really, they made my family seem like paupers; it was ridiculous. Anyway, after that summer, we went back to Maine and…my mom died.”
She stopped speaking and Jules wiped a tear away that she hadn’t known she’d let loose. Emma hadn’t spoken about any of this in so long, and she still hadn’t told any of her friends about finding out about Luke.
“I didn’t know then, but
after mom died, my dad went on a kind of spending spree. He didn’t tell me, but we were in debt, to Luke’s family. So when Luke came to me and said he wanted us to be together, and, then, a few weeks later that he wanted us to get married, I didn’t know it was because I was the repayment for the debt my dad had acquired. I thought he loved me. I was stupid, I was infatuated with him, but it was all a lie.
“The wedding was booked for a week after I turned 18. I found that out yesterday—three days before the wedding, and I ran.” Emma gave Jules a mocking smile. “And now I’m here.”
Jules frowned, remaining quiet for a while, thinking about what she had confided in him, and Emma wondered whether he reconsidered getting involved.
“Okay,” he said, finally, “he really is an asshole, but I don’t understand, as lovely as you are, why would Luke’s family accept you as payment?”
Emma laughed. “Oh, it wasn’t me they wanted. My grandfather was another member of my family who was stuck in the middle ages; he thought that a girl should marry as soon as possible, so he left me an inheritance—collectable as soon as I’m a bride. The clock starts counting down as soon as I turn 18, and every year that I wait to get married the money goes down.”
Julian’s eyebrows raised. “Geez, your family is very dramatic, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
“How much is the inheritance?” Jules asked, while taking a sip from his beer.
“20 million dollars.”
Beer spurted from Jules’ nose. “20 million!”
“Yep. Going down a million every year I wait.”
Jules shook his head, “Well, Jesus, no wonder Luke wanted to marry you.”
The moment the words had blurted from his mouth, Emma’s eyes welled up with angry tears and Julian was worried for a second that she would hit him. Instead, she just said, “Exactly, so now you can see why I had to leave.”
“Sure,” he replied.
Dinner had left Emma rattled. Why did she tell him all of that? Why did he listen?
In a way Emma had to admit that if felt good to let it all out, even if she was letting it out to Julian. Emma had been surprised when he hadn’t laughed at her, or made some cheesy joke, like she had expected him to.
They went through the doors to the Ritz with the same frenzy of groupies, and the press, almost beating them to death before they made it inside, and up to their rooms. Julian stopped outside of her door as though they were on a real date, but Emma avoided looking at him.
Chapter 13
It didn’t matter how good of a listener Julian had been tonight, she still thought he was one of the most conceited people she had ever met, and she’d had quite enough of confident, lying boys to last her a lifetime.
“Emma,” he said, when she opened the door, “I’m sorry about what happened to you and Luke.”
“Thanks,” she replied, saddened again as she remembered.
“But you’ll get over it soon.”
Emma’s head snapped up. He was smirking. “Why’s that?” she demanded.
“Because you didn’t love him.”
“What?! Yes I—”
“No you didn’t.” Jules interrupted her, “I bet you didn’t even want him.”
Emma was livid. She let the door swing shut as she came close to him and put her hands on her hips.
He smiled. “Not like you want me.”
Emma raised her fist to punch him, but Julian was quicker, and before she could react, she was in his arms and Julian kissed her, again. This was getting to be a bad habit, Emma thought. She couldn’t keep letting Julian prove his point with kisses that numbed her brain and made it impossible to think straight. If she was thinking clearly, she would never be doing what she was doing now, wrapping her arms around Julian’s neck and pulling herself up, deepening kiss. She would never have moaned and arched into him as he pushed her against the wall and pressed his humming body into hers; and she most certainly wouldn’t have felt as though he electrocuted her with constant jolts of pleasure that zipped up and down her veins like fire.
Emma wanted him. She had to admit that to herself. The way her body reacted was proof that what he had said was true.
She had wanted Luke too, but in such a different way. With Luke, she loved to feel his lips on hers and his hands roaming her body because it meant that he wanted her. That he desired her.
Her need for Julian was different. He desired her. Emma felt that longing in his hot and heavy kiss. She wanted him to touch her, to caress her, and because he made her feel more alive than she thought was possible, pushed even deeper into his body.
The small part of her brain that still managed to function, despite their fevered passion, reasoned that admitting she was attracted to Julian wasn’t bad; he was an international superstar, not to mention the sexiest man she’s ever seen—there was no harm in a few kisses…
Jules pulled his mouth from hers and buried it in her neck, overcome with his own longing, and murmured, “Emma” into her soft skin.
That was all she needed, just that one little wakeup call of his voice to jolt her out of her kissing coma.
Emma pulled back, her arms around his neck loosened and pushed him from her. She looked at him for one second, his gray eyes burning and his arms looking empty as she recalled her own fast breathing and rumpled dress. She pushed her door open and slammed it behind her.
Oh god, she thought, I’m a freaking groupie!
Chapter 14
Alright, Jules thought, time for a cold shower.
He didn’t know why he kept doing this to himself. Why he kept kissing Emma when he knew that it had to end. He should know by now that she was just going to push him away, not because she didn’t want him—she had proven that she desired him when she gasped and lengthened the kiss. No, Emma pushed him away because she was scared, and more than a little hostile. He couldn’t blame her; Luke had damaged her emotionally when he used her like that.
Jules related. He couldn’t count the amount of girls (and some boys) who had tried to be with him for his money, or fame, for the people he knew, or the lifestyle he could give them. He supposed the only difference between him and Emma was that Jules always knew that they were gold-digging bitches, whereas Emma had really thought Luke loved her. That guy deserved a good thrashing and Jules hoped for the chance to give him one. The thought of it made him smile, but Emma was so feisty she’d probably beat him to it, and whoop his ass herself.
She was…unusual. Beautiful, there was no doubt about that, but Jules thought that he just wouldn’t be able to impress her. Maybe she actually didn’t want him. He laughed. Yeah, sure she didn’t, Julian.
He, himself, wasn’t sure what he wanted from her. He didn’t date, so it wasn’t that, and it wasn’t because he needed someone to sleep with. He could pick someone off the street who was more than willing to meet his needs, and he knew that. Maybe it was that Julian hadn’t had a challenge in a long time, not since his songs made the air and the small production company he was partner in started signing great artists.
That must be it then, he thought to himself, the challenge. It must be that challenge. I mean, what else could it be?
While Julian debated with himself over why he desired this American girl, Emma tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She would fall into dreams, at first, languid and charming, like being asleep in a sunny meadow, and then, suddenly, hands touched her body, caressing her until the sun turned burning hot and the hands started to undress her and…
And, then, she would wake up.
She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed that she woke up. All she had wanted to do was escape from her past, and now here it was, following her! Plus, she faced a future, which looked as heartbreaking as the last time. This was not a good situation to be in.
After taking a cold shower, so as to not remind her of the fiery meadow, Emma felt more relaxed. So what if she liked kissing Jules? It was no big deal. It wasn’t like anything serious was goi
ng to happen between them, and no one was close enough to them to see through the lie.
Emma smiled, feeling more satisfied with her life.
As she walked out of her bathroom, Emma noticed the smell of lilacs. Its strong scent stopped her in her tracks. She knew that odor; she had memorized it.
There, sitting on her bed, looking like she’d just flown in from Paris, or Milan, was Becca: Emma’s tall, bouncy friend, and one of the few people who might see straight through the lie.
Emma sighed, “Oh shit.”
Chapter 15
“Becca? What are you doing here?”
“Well it’s good to see you too, Emma, my disappearing best friend!”
Emma forced her mouth to close and thought of something she could tell her. For some reason, Emma didn’t want to tell Becca about Luke. Maybe it was because she’s spent most of her time over the past few months gushing about how much she loved him, or, maybe, it was because, in the back of her mind, Emma wondered whether Becca even cared. She probably wouldn’t even see the problem with Luke using her as payment to a debt that her recently widowed father had against his family. At least he was hot.
Emma sighed inwardly; it seemed like no one cared, or thought it was a big deal. They all made her feel like a whiney little girl, except Julian. She mentally slapped herself again.
“No, of course I’m happy to see you, I’m just…surprised! You’re in London?” Emma said with a half-smile.
“Of course I’m in London, silly. When I heard that you were here, I came straight away,” Becca said as she flipped her curls over her shoulder and wandered to Emma’s closet.
“What? How did you know I was here?” Now Emma was confused. Anyone would think she’s been blogging about her runaway destination, or broadcasting it on nationwide television; it was so easy to find her.
Becca laughed. “It wasn’t a great secret, honey. Although, I must say, I was quite bummed when I found out you’d left without telling me. I mean, when Luke called, I was all ‘What the frick, Emma’ and—”