by Tasha Fawkes
"I want to go," I said finally. "Hell, I basically shook with excitement when he first asked me. And anyway, what have I got to lose? Pretending to be Chad's girlfriend sounds like a lot of fun. I mean, have you seen the guy?"
Kim laughed and let out an exaggerated sigh. "He looks like he's composed entirely of sunshine."
Yeah, and staring at him was a little like staring into the sun, I couldn't help but think.
Giddiness overtook me, and I started to giggle. Kim soon followed suit, and before I knew it we were doubled over on the sofa, laughing like ridiculous hyenas. This trip would be the craziest thing I'd done since moving to Vegas in the first place.
Only a small amount of concern still lingered at the edge of my consciousness. I didn't like the thought of him exercising control over me just because I was technically in his employ, especially considering the nature of the job.
I sobered up a bit, catching my breath and wiping a tear from my eye. "What about going on the adventures and stuff? What if there’s some crazy shit he wants me to do that I’m not comfortable with? Do you think I can lay down some ground rules?"
Kim snorted. "Are you kidding? He came to you, babe. He picked you out from the crowd, not knowing you at all, and asked you basically to do him a favor. You've got him by the family jewels."
I wasn't so sure about that. I suspected Kim was just saying as much because she was responsive to my sensitivity about being controlled and wanted to assuage that fear as much as possible. I didn't mind. I trusted her judgement more than I trusted my own at times, and she'd pulled me out of more than my fair share of sticky situations when it came to bad ex-boyfriends and the like.
"Then it's settled." I couldn't keep my lips from turning. "You're looking at the newest girlfriend of Chad Harlan, the fabulous Ms. Brianne Reed."
Kim gave a theatrical bow. "How lovely to meet you."
"I just hope this doesn't blow up in my face."
"And if it does? Free vacation."
"True," I acknowledged. "And I guess pretending to be someone I'm not for a few weeks is a small price to pay to get an all-expenses paid trip to Hawaii."
"No doubt." Kim raised her coffee cup to mine in a toast. "A small price to pay indeed. And hey, how hard could it be?"
We tapped cups and drank.
Kim didn't know just how much she'd hit the nail on the head. How hard could pretending to be someone's girlfriend be? For me, not hard at all. Not when I'd been pretending to be someone else my entire life.
Two
Brin
Sweat prickled on my forehead. My legs burned, that delicious ache that always told me I'd given my all in the pursuit of perfection. The grand finale approached, a maelstrom of writhing bodies and swaying limbs as me and the other girls on stage reeled the audience in one last time. Afterwards, if we did our job right, they would be left just as breathless, just as dry with thirst, and just as flushed. It was what I loved about dancing burlesque, even when I didn't always love that I danced burlesque at all. Everyone's eyes were on us. We commanded the entire room, and with one jerk of a finger could entice any single one of our star-struck followers into doing whatever we wanted.
I bent down, curving my spine just right as I pulled lazily back to my feet. Behind me, Chandra cracked a whip. I gave my best million dollars smile and circled my hips as the song increased in tempo.
I could hardly see the darkened faces of my audience, though the candles flickering on each of the small round tables cast light and shadows over the features of those closest to the stage and allowed me some clarity. I let my gaze track around the room now, enjoying the bewitched expressions on every single face and feeling the beat pulse through me like a jungle drum.
Then I saw him.
Everyone in this place was staring at either me or one of the other five dancers on stage, so his eyes on mine shouldn't have been an unusual sight. I made eye contact with the audience all the time. Hell, it was a great way to titillate with a saucy smile and a wink, which always kept them coming back for more. He was different though.
I nearly stumbled from the force of his stare, but quickly and smoothly regained my footing. I turned away to perform a few more steps but let my eyes fall back on him a moment later. He was still staring. I don't even know if I could call it just staring.
Watching.
Waiting.
He was just as intoxicated as everyone else, but it was more than that. He drew me in just as much as I did him, and it was wickedly unnatural in the way that all the really good things in life are.
Maybe it was the fact that the candle gilded his hair, making the wavy mess of it like Rumpelstiltskin’s haystack on his head. Maybe it was how his creamy skin contrasted so heavily with eyes so dark, like infinite vortexes that sucked in the shadows around them. Or maybe it was the fact that he didn't seem aware that the other dancers even existed. Other people looked at me like I was a part of the spectacle. When this guy looked at me, I couldn't help but feel that I was the spectacle.
I needed to concentrate for my last few steps, so I regretfully tore my eyes away from his. It shouldn't have been as difficult as it was.
Chandra and I pressed our backs to each other and sank to the floor, vaulting our fishnet-clad thighs and sparkly pumps toward the ceiling as the girls on either side of us did the same. The music stopped. The raucous applause began.
I tried to casually glance around the room, hoping to catch a glimmer of the mysterious man in the front row without making eye contact again. He was still looking, this time with a sly tilt of his lip that made heat blossom in my chest. He looked familiar somehow, but I couldn't place him. Maybe that was why I was feeling this sudden intensity around him. Maybe it had nothing to do with the fact that his whole expression was suggestive, much too dark and lustful for such a public setting.
Hell, maybe I just really needed to get laid.
I rose back to my feet and did a quick bow with the girls. The soreness of my feet caught up with me the second we started backstage, and I let out a sigh of relief at the knowledge I'd be in my dressing room soon.
Chandra crept up to my elbow, poking me. "Who was that guy?"
"What guy?"
Her bright blue eyes filled with mischief. "The one who couldn't take his eyes off you the entire time. You know exactly who I'm talking about."
Was that a blush rising to my cheeks? No. It had to just be from the lights and all the exertion.
"No idea," I said, leaving her to decide whether I meant I had no idea who she meant or no idea who he was.
"Boo, you never tell me anything." She stuck out her lip in a teasing way, even though her smile never faltered.
I laughed and nudged her, stopping at my dressing room door while she continued past. Chandra was a friendly girl, as were the rest of the ladies I performed with. I felt guilty for not wanting to engage more in their little gaggle of girlfriends, but when I left this place on a night, I wanted to completely leave it. Besides, my best friend, Kimberley, was more than enough friend for me.
My shoes were the first to come off once I was inside my cramped little dressing room. I was just happy to have the whole place to myself. I'd thought about decorating the bare space on more than one occasion but could never seem to get the drive to do it. I felt as soon as I decorated my dressing room, my life as a burlesque dancer would become concrete and there'd be no backpedaling out of it. That was stupid, obviously, but I was also the kind of person who didn't walk under ladders even though I thought superstitions were a load of baloney.
A woman of contradiction. A burlesque dancer who loved to dance and drank in attention like bubbly champagne but who was always unsatisfied, always reaching for more. Or at least something else. Maybe one of these days I'd figure it out.
I had just sat down at my vanity to start removing my sparkly stage makeup when there was a knock at the door. I figured it was one of the other girls, probably wanting to borrow a hairbrush or something.
; “Come in!” I called.
I couldn’t even be bothered to turn around. I was officially exhausted. More so than usual. It was like that little staring match with the guy from the audience had afforded me a hangover that greasy food and a glass of water were not going to fix.
I watched the door open in the mirror, and my heart skipped a beat.
He was taller than I had imagined him to be and so wide that he seemed to take up the whole doorway. I was intrigued to find that the golden shimmer of his hair had only dulled a little in the absence of warm candlelight, and even the violent fluorescents of the backstage hallway brought out something of the divine in his messy locks. Strawberry blond wasn't a hair color that I normally found attractive on a man, but he easily made it onto the list of exceptions. Up close, his broad jaw was covered in a thin ginger stubble, emphasizing his expressive mouth and those mischievous lips that had held my attention so perfectly.
It took no more than a heartbeat or two for my eyes to reach his in the mirror, but it felt like a lifetime, and I was startled to find that they weren't nearly as dark as they'd looked from afar. In fact, his eyes were the most delicious shade of sapphire blue I'd ever seen, and I got stuck in them for a moment. When I finally managed to get unstuck, he was smirking at me. Cheeky bastard.
"Hi," I said, bolting from my seat and hurriedly wrapping a robe around myself. It wasn't like he hadn't already seen most of my body on stage, but him being here was more intimate somehow. Even in my robe I felt completely exposed.
"Hi," he said, mocking my alarmed cadence. He nudged the door behind him but left it open a crack. I gathered he could sense my unease.
"Can I help you?" I crossed my arms uncertainly. Yet another contradiction—I could lay it out on stage, a confident queen, but once I was back to real life I apparently turned into a dithering school girl.
"Great show," he said. His voice was honeyed and thick, with enough of a hoarse edge to make me want to lean in closer. He extended a hand toward me. "I'm Chad. Chad Harlan."
Chad Harlan... Where did I know that name from?
A light flicked on in my head, and my eyebrows shot for the sky.
"The YouTube guy?"
His amused smirk grew, and I kicked myself internally. The YouTube guy? I may as well have identified him as “that extreme sports dude” and called it a day.
Chad Harlan was more than just a YouTube personality. He was a tour de force. Over the past few years his videos had earned him a large and dedicated fan base who logged on religiously each week to check out his latest video. I'd never sought out his videos but had stumbled upon a fair few here and there. His wit and contagious excitement always impressed me, even if extreme adventures weren't really my thing.
Now I felt like an idiot for not recognizing him earlier. Then again, I'd never seen him make an expression so devious and lustful in one of his videos, so I had to give myself a little slack.
"That's me," he said. "The one and only YouTube guy."
I realized his hand was still extended and hurriedly reached out to shake it, probably a little more forcefully than necessary.
"I'm sorry, I always get a little scatterbrained after a show," I said, wincing.
He laughed. "I don't blame you. You're quite the performer."
“I’m Brianne. Brianne Reed. Most people call me Brin.”
I crossed my arms again and basked in his approval. Chad Harlan was without a doubt one of the coolest and most influential video bloggers out there. His opinion was not something to be taken lightly.
"And thank you for your kind words." I smiled and hoped my makeup wasn't flaking too badly. "I love your videos. You're probably the only reason I would ever want to go skydiving."
"Not much of a thrill seeker?"
"The thrills I seek are more TV plot twists and when my favorite dairy-free ice cream goes on sale. Jumping out of a plane seems a little intense."
His eyes flashed with amusement. "You'd be surprised."
The sudden intensity of the moment made me clear my throat and take a tiny step back from him. I could practically feel his heat, and the heady scent of his cologne was slowly reaching for me in the small space and making my head all muddled. At least that was what I told myself.
"I'm glad you liked the show," I said lamely. "I don't often get people coming back here to tell me that in person."
"Admittedly, I've got an ulterior motive."
My throat went dry. I cocked a questioning brow.
Chad continued, thrusting his hands casually into the pockets of his tight-fitting jeans. He looked more at ease in the doorway of my dressing room than I'd ever looked in my life.
"I'm heading out to Hawaii in a couple days to shoot some videos," he explained. "I’ll be there for three weeks. I want you to come with me and pretend to be my girlfriend."
I should have guessed that an extreme adventure blogger would have no problem being direct. My mouth fell open, and I blinked in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
He grinned. "There's nothing my fans like more than seeing me and a beautiful woman having fun together, and Hawaii is the perfect place for that.”
Chad must have interpreted the blank expression on my face as one of disinterest rather than surprise, since he barely took a breath before continuing. "The trip will be all expenses paid, of course, plus some spending money while we’re there. I know it's a strange arrangement, but I think you'd have a lot of fun."
"But you don't even know me," I said finally, eyebrows coming down to form a crease on my forehead. "Why would you want me to be your fake girlfriend?"
He shrugged and leaned against the doorframe. "It's like any acting job, really. Consider the show tonight your audition."
Glittering bulbs flashed in my head. A three week trip to Hawaii? Exposure on Chad Harlan's YouTube page? And cash on top of that? I could barely breathe I was so excited, and the word "yes" kept trying to force its way up my throat. Impulsivity had never been the name of the game with me, and the sudden desire to toss all caution to the wind frightened me. I forced my excitement to take a back seat and met his gaze.
"Can I take a day to think about it?" I asked.
Chad nodded, though the curve of his mouth told me he suspected he'd already gotten me. I half wondered if he had too.
“I’m heading out there early the morning after next, but we can always fly you in a day later. My crew won’t be getting there until then, anyway.”
We exchanged numbers, and he flashed me a toothy grin that could have disarmed a nuclear bomb. I found myself unable to tear my eyes away from the doorway until his footsteps faded down the hallway, and only then did I gulp down a big mouthful of air.
My fingers were dialing Kimberley’s number before my mind even caught up.
"Hey girl," she answered. "How was the show?"
"Can you come over?" I asked. "I've got kind of a crazy situation that I need your advice on."
Three
Chad
The bar was packed, but I knew I'd see Brin the instant she walked in. I'd have an easier time missing a fully decked out Elvis impersonator with light-up sideburns. I couldn't get the sensual redhead out of my head, from that cupid's bow mouth that slayed me when she dropped it open in surprise, to the way her cheeks burned pink against her peaches and cream skin when she got flustered, to the little dimples that came out when she smiled. She was gorgeous, the perfect specimen for what I had in mind. And she'd look great on camera too.
My eyes shot to the far end of the room just as a tall beauty in tight jeans and a plain black t-shirt stepped in from the lobby. Brin looked miles different than she had the last time I saw her, but I would've recognized those searching eyes anywhere. I waved her over to the table.
"Hello, beautiful," I said, rising to greet her.
Brin's smile tightened a little, like she wasn't sure how to react to my friendly greeting. "Hello yourself. Enjoying Vegas?"
"More and more by the second."
> Brin accepted my offer of a seat and I slid the chair in behind her, noting the scent of freesia that floated to my nose from her hair. I suppressed the urge to lean in for a better sniff and walked back around to my side of the table. This was business, now. More than that, I had a lot riding on Brin's acceptance of my proposal, especially since the trip was rapidly approaching.
I took a seat and smiled at Brin over the table. The bar's dim lighting was periodically broken up by flashes of neon pink and purple, which coated one side of her face in vibrant color and left the rest in shadow. It would have been the perfect shot if the cameras were rolling.
"So?" I asked. "Have you had enough time to consider my offer?"
"I have."
"And?"
I leaned in closer, drawn in by the challenge in her gaze. I barely knew this girl, and I already suspected there was so much more to her than she advertised. I sensed a world hiding just beneath the surface. Too bad I couldn't be the one to crack it open and look inside.
Brin ironed out her features, but she couldn't push down the light in her eyes. Her excitement rippled in the air between us.
"I have decided that I will accompany you to Hawaii as your fake girlfriend," she said solemnly.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she stuck up a finger to stop me.
"But," she said, "I have conditions."
I relaxed back into my seat, watching pink splash over her delicate lips as a grin spread over mine. I figured she'd come back with some terms. I left the scope of the invitation unclear on purpose to see where she would draw lines and to get a better idea of her comfort level. If she was willing to go the distance, to do every crazy thing that I did when I did it, great. If she wasn't, we could work with that too. And I suspected there wasn't a guidebook on what the parameters were for having a fake girlfriend, so the details of that were up for negotiation as well.