The Passionate One: A Billionaire Bride Pact Romance
Page 15
“Stop stereotyping! Not everyone is like that cheesy politician you dated. What was his name, Joe?”
“Joel.” Okay, maybe she was being stereotypical but that was exactly what her father and his cronies used to do and probably still did. Joel and Hugh were some of the worst. Pretending to be charitable and really only caring about how to take advantage of others.
“Forget about Joel. The hottie Beckham is flying into Maui today. I’ve got his itinerary and one of his stops is your art show and another one is that children’s center you love to visit. He’ll be there for over a week. All you have to do is flirt a bit, get him to ask you out, and then tell me about it. You’re perfect—the classy and beautiful type that every rich guy would be drawn to, plus no man can resist your ethnic flare. Ooh, if I just had that olive skin!” Maryn paused for a breath but Alyssa didn’t feel the need to counter-compliment. Maryn was absolutely gorgeous with her petite frame, blond hair, and blue eyes, and one of the many things Alyssa loved about her best friend was no matter what she claimed, she didn’t have a jealous bone in her body.
“It’s just a generic article so I won’t put names or pictures in it,” Maryn continued. “See, Easy-schmeasy-lemon-cheesy. You don’t even have to go on the date…” Her voice dropped. “Unless you want to.”
“I won’t want to,” Alyssa said too forcefully. She took a long breath, anxiety from the thought of picking up on some rich guy making her a bit light-headed. Why was the name Beckham familiar? This had disaster written all over it. “This seems too easy for one of your favors. Why would your editor be interested in a generic article about me getting asked on one date?”
“It’s part of a bigger plan. No worries. Will you do it? Please, please, please?”
“So I don’t have to go out with him, just get him to ask and give him the wrong number?”
“For sure. Great idea.”
Alyssa looked out at the water. She didn’t want to date some wealthy schmoozer. Someday she’d love to find someone who cared for children as much as she did and would be happy taking her on a hike instead of insisting she be his arm candy at some exclusive event. She didn’t need a man trying to buy her affection. Her father’s love language was all dollars, deposits, and dividends—and she used the term “father” in the loosest possible way.
“Hello? Are you still there?” Maryn called out. “Come on Ally. You love me and I need your help.”
How could she turn down one of the two people who had always been there for her? Maryn had been her friend their entire lives. Maryn’s mom had been a maid for Alyssa’s dad from the time Maryn was two. Alyssa’s dad had liked the feisty Maryn so he’d always treated her like a second daughter and paid for both of them to go to girl’s camp or whatever else they begged him for. When they hit teenage years it all changed and they both realized her dad was nothing more than a blackmailing predator, intent on using both of them in whatever way would make him money or make him look good to his friends.
The two girls had moved an hour north of Newport Beach to L.A. breaking away her dad’s influence, and pursuing their dreams with college and then with fledgling careers. A majority of the time, they’d only kept the utilities on because of Alyssa’s photography and Maryn’s nose for finding writing opportunities. If it hadn’t been for Alyssa’s Granny Ellie sneaking money to Maryn every chance she could, they would’ve been forced to the food pantry.
“Okay.” She heard herself concede and sighed.
“Yes! Oh, yeah, that’s my girl.” Maryn sang out. Alyssa knew the happy dance was in full swing. “I’ll send you his picture and all the information for how to snare him.”
“Snare him?”
“I mean the places he’ll be the next week in case you don’t get a date offer from the gallery meeting.”
“It’s getting heavy,” Alyssa sighed.
“No, no heaviness, all good things, light things, think cotton candy, pink cotton candy.” Now Maryn would be flinging her hands in lightening gestures. “Email me everything after you meet him and then you’re off the hook.”
“You owe me.”
“I know, but you never ask for repays so I just keep smiling all the way to success.”
“You do that.” Alyssa hit the end button and shoved the phone back in her pocket. She turned around and retraced her route toward Lahaina and the bed and breakfast where she had taken up semi-permanent residence. Alyssa had moved to Maui to escape her father over a month ago. Even though Alyssa would never consent to live with her parents in their Newport Beach mansion, her dad never quit trying to keep tabs on her. She didn’t know when or if she was going back to California and face that family nightmare.
Had she really just agreed to stalk a man until he asked her out? She’d done worse things for Maryn, but this one made her stomach pitch as if she was on a whale-watching tour on stormy seas. Every detail was like a whale’s blowhole spraying rank water at her. At least she didn’t really have to go on the date. Maybe he wouldn’t even be interested in her. She’d give it a try for Maryn—smile and act nice. If she got the offer, then she’d give him a wrong phone number, and make herself scarce the week he was here.
Her shoulders relaxed as the plan formulated and her running became rhythmic and comfortable. Everything would be fine. She could help Maryn out and stay away from rich men who always had an agenda that had nothing to do with what was best for anyone but them. Who cared that she’d never fulfill the pact she’d made with her friends at summer camp? Some things were better left in the past and the Billionaire Brides Pact was buried and dead as far as she was concerned.
Her phone chimed. She didn’t want to stop, but she couldn’t deny herself a quick glimpse at the picture of the man she was supposed to “snare”. She slowed to a walk and opened the email from Maryn and then stopped in her tracks for the second time that morning. Her hand flew to her mouth as her stomach dropped.
“Oh, no. Oh, Maryn. What have you got me into this time? This is never going to work.”