Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance

by Eva Luxe

  Kina giggled.

  I wiggled out of the dress and tried another one. “Besides,” I added. “If it’s this hard to get in and out of these dresses, I don’t know how I’ll have time to get around to the sex.”

  Kina giggled again.

  "I need to lose a good ten pounds so I can start fitting dresses better," I said.

  "No you don't," she protested. "You fill them out perfectly"

  Kina was always saying I looked perfect just the way I was— like a mom even more than a friend. But as I looked in the mirror I had to admit she might be right this time. I never wore dresses this fancy but they did look good being rather form fitting against what Kina always calls my "bootylicious curves."

  "This is definitely the dress," I told Kina, turning sideways and then front and back, inspecting myself from every angle as I was sure Hanson would be doing later.

  “What time are you meeting this guy?” she asked.

  “Six.”

  “That’s early for a charity thing, isn’t it?”

  “It is. We need to cover some details first. We’re going to dinner.”

  I walked out of the dressing room again to show Kina dress number two.

  "Woot woot!"

  She let out a whistle that I could tell was for the fact that I was having dinner with Hanson, as much as it was for the dress I was wearing, which really hugged all my curves.

  “Dinner before? And then a romantic formal event where you save poor kids lives by donating money to a hospital wing? Sounds like a date to me. And I know for a fact that you have sex after the first date.”

  I smiled, shaking my head. It was strictly business.

  “So, this one?” I asked. “Or do I have to keep trying? This is hard work.”

  “I think you look stunning. But what do you think?” she asked. “How do you feel in it?”

  "I was definitely thinking this was the one."

  "Good," she said. "We both agree on that then. Because I think that Hanson isn't going to be able to resist putting his hands all over those fine curves of yours."

  I turned to a mirror and looked at myself again, just to be double sure. I'd need the perfect pair of shoes and elegant jewelry to complete the look, but it looked good. If Hanson had managed to get the right kind of suit, we would look good together.

  Of course, that wasn’t what it was about. But still, it couldn’t hurt.

  I figured every girl deserved a night on the town with a handsome, rich, celebrity athlete. Even a hardworking, no nonsense girl like me.

  Chapter 13 – Lacey

  I felt sweaty when I got home, even though it was probably due to nerves because Kina and I hadn't even had to shop for very long since one of the first dresses I had tried on had been perfect. That never happened to me so I was hoping it was a sign that the rest of the night would go just a smoothly.

  I showered for the second time today, and used enough product on my hair that it would stay where I put it. It was a bit longer now than when I’d first cut it, and I could style it around my face into something softer and elegant than I usually wore it.

  I preferred my hair short. I liked it out of the way, and I wasn’t the type of woman that wanted to seduce a man with my locks. Still, I wanted to look feminine, and tonight, I had managed.

  I was happy to see that the dress looked just as good on me at home as it did at the store— that rarely happened, either. Usually I could swear the store's mirrors worked some kind of voodoo magic to make me look better in the clothes than I actually did, so that I would make an impulse buy I'd later regret when I got home and back to reality. They probably all knew I was too much of a procrastinator to ever return clothing on time.

  But tonight was different: this dress still looked good even without the store mirror magic. It was tight around my body, accentuating my curves and showing off my back and shoulders. The bodice clung to my body all the way down to my hips before it flared out in a skirt of organza. Crystals decorated the bodice. With it, I put on silver jewelry, black shoes, and grabbed a matching clutch. I put on smoky makeup with dark red lipstick.

  I turned around in the mirror and liked what I saw.

  The doorbell chimed at the front door, and I opened it. A man in a black suit and chauffeur’s hat stood in front of me and bowed slightly at the hips.

  “Miss Townsend,” he said. “Your car awaits.”

  I threw my phone, lipstick, keys, and a credit card into my clutch and closed the door behind me. I followed the chauffeur to the street. A black limousine waited for me on the curb, and I stopped in my tracks. The chauffeur walked to the back door and opened it for me.

  “Miss?” he said.

  I swallowed, looking at him. This was a bit much, wasn’t it?

  When I slid onto the leather seats, I changed my mind. Okay, sure, it still may have been a bit much, but this was nice. I could get used to this, dressing up, being driven around by a chauffeur in a luxury car, and going to an expensive restaurant.

  We stopped in front of Zuma and Hanson Bell stood outside, waiting for me. He smiled when I got out of the car. He looked me up and down before he thanked the chauffeur and gave him a time to collect us again.

  “You look ravishing,” he said.

  I couldn’t help but blush. When was the last time a man had called me ravishing? I would have to say the answer to that was never.

  “You clean up pretty well yourself,” I said.

  Hanson wore a tuxedo, complete with bow tie and satin lapels, that made him look classy and refined. He smiled and held the door open for me. The hostess led us to our table.

  I had never been to Zuma before. I’d only read about it. It had high ceilings and a bar to the side where Japanese chefs prepared sushi and other foods. We sat down at a light wood table with soft green leather seats, and a waitress brought us our menus.

  “This is a great place,” I said, looking around. It was full. “How did you get reservations so easily?”

  Hanson shrugged. “I’m Hanson Bell, remember?”

  I nodded. Right. Special privileges and connections and all that. I glanced at the menu.

  “I don’t know what to choose,” I said. “Everything looks so good.”

  “Let me decide. I’ve been here before.”

  I nodded. I didn’t usually let men take the lead. I hated being indecisive, but I wanted to get down to business. I couldn’t forget what I was doing here. The limo and dressing up and the expensive restaurant made it all feel like too much of a fairy tale.

  I waited until Hanson ordered for us before I started.

  “Okay, so about tonight,” I said. “I already told you what it’s all about. We’re going to this event so that you can mingle with the people who influence our society.”

  Hanson frowned. “I’m going to be out of my league, then.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe, but if people start associating you with people that influence society in a good way, they’ll start labeling you that way, too.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I can understand that. I become good by association, then.”

  “It’s a mindset,” I said. “And you’re showing them that you’re attending a cause that matters. People love a winner, but they love a hero more.”

  “Selflessness,” Hanson said, pulling a face like the idea left a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Tonight's event is for the children,” I said. “It’s a good cause. Don’t you like children?”

  Hanson shrugged. “I do. I guess one day, I would like my own. Just not now, you know?”

  I nodded.

  “What about you?” he asked.

  I looked at him. This topic of conversation wasn’t exactly where I’d meant to go with this.

  “I like children,”’ I said. “I just don’t want any of my own.”

  Hanson frowned. “Why not?”

  “Personal taste, I guess.”

  That, and I knew that it was a responsibility I would never be able to take on.


  “Every woman wants children. It’s in your nature.”

  “That,” I said, "is a sexist comment. It’s exactly what you need to watch out for when you focus on your public image. We’re not breeding machines or objects of pleasure.”

  Hanson held up his hands. “I was really just asking why you don’t want kids,” he said. “No offense implied. I get it, I get it— not every woman is maternal.”

  There was a sparkle in his eye, as if he had said what he did just to get the reaction out of me that he had received. He liked pushing my buttons. In more ways than one. And I hated that I kind of liked when he did it, too.

  I nodded, trying to act unphased. “It’s fine. All I’m saying is that attending these kinds of events isn’t so bad. You’re really doing it all for yourself in the end. It’s a gift that keeps on giving.”

  I was changing the topic. I needed to. He was getting me all flustered— hot and bothered in more ways than one. It was time to steer our conversation back to professional topics.

  “You’re making it sound so glamorous,” Hanson said.

  I chuckled. “It is. You can’t tell me you don’t feel good, being dressed like this, on our way to a place where everyone is doing something good?”

  “I can tell you that seeing you dress like that makes me want to help you undress.”

  I laughed, unable to hide my surprise. He was really shameless. And I couldn't help but love it.

  “You can’t do this,” I said.

  “You have a beautiful smile.”

  I was blushing. I felt the flush creep onto my cheeks, and there was nothing I could do to hide it. I didn’t even have long hair to hide behind.

  “I’m serious, Bell.”

  He held up his hands. “If it’s going to make you address me by my surname again, I’ll stop it.”

  His face was serious, but his hazel eyes were still smiling at me, and they made me feel a little unbalanced.

  When the food arrived, I was grateful for the distraction. I had to take a moment to pull myself together again. This man knew exactly how to get a woman to unravel.

  Chapter 14 – Hanson

  She was a vision in silver, and she was smiling. I hadn’t seen her smile since I’d met her. It was the sexiest thing she’d worn since we’d met. When we were out to dinner, she was a different person. It was like taking her out had somehow gotten through her cold façade to something warm and friendly underneath.

  When we stopped in front of the Cruz building, my chauffeur Carl opened the door for us, and I got out first. I held out my hand, and Lacey took it, appearing from the car. She looked like she belonged in this world of black ties and parties. I had a lot of money, and I was less comfortable and confident in this surrounding than she looked.

  How many people did she deal with? How often did she come to places like this? She looped her hand through the arm I offered her, and we turned to the tall, upright building that had been a part of the face of luxury events for years.

  We walked through the double doors that led into the building. The place was magnificent, with a giant stair case leading to the second level right in front of us. Pillars and checkered floors to the left led to a bar that stretched along the length of the room.

  Everywhere, men and women were dressed to the nines. Men walked around in their tuxes and tails, and women sashayed on their arms, making them look better.

  Classical music, not my taste but not terrible, floated from hidden speakers, and the murmur of conversation and clinking of glasses provided the soundtrack for the evening.

  “I’m going upstairs to talk to a few people,” Lacey said as soon as we were inside. “Why don’t you walk around and make some introductions? Network a bit. And if a reporter approaches you, feel free to explain why you’re here. Stick to the basics, though. You believe in this charity and want to help out. I know that you do feel that way, when you aren’t distracted by other things. And try not to drink too much.”

  I liked the way she mentioned me being distracted by other things. It seemed that she and I were on the same wavelength.

  She let go of my arm, and I realized she was leaving me.

  “I have to do it all alone?”

  She smiled. “You’re a big boy. I’m sure you know all about charming people.”

  Her smile was playful, and her eyes were sharp. She turned with a swish and walked up the stairs, ascending like a goddess.

  I looked around me. I was out of my depth here. Put me in a nightclub like the White Room or E11even, and I knew exactly what to do. This place, however, not so much.

  I walked to the bar. If I was going to manage this at all, I was going to need a stiff drink. I didn’t care if Lacey thought I shouldn’t drink too much. I needed to get through this without looking as unsure of myself as I felt. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like being in a place where I wasn’t comfortable.

  This was all part of the plan, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.

  At the bar, I ordered a Remy Martin, and the bartender poured me two fingers on ice. I would have loved to have three, but it felt tacky to ask. I sipped the amber liquid, feeling the smooth whiskey run down my throat. Something I knew. Warm and familiar. What a treat.

  “You are the last person I expected to see here,” a familiar voice next to me suddenly said.

  I turned. Brian was dressed in a black suit with a black shirt and tie, and he looked very modern in it. His hair was slicked back, his chin clean-shaven, and he held a whiskey tumbler in his hand like it was precious.

  “Don’t even ask,” I said, sipping more of my own whiskey.

  When I had asked him during the week if he wanted to come out with me this Saturday, tonight, he had told me he was busy. I hadn’t bothered to ask with what. Now I knew.

  “Don’t drink too much,” he said. “This place is crawling with reporters. It’s the one place you don’t want to be caught screwing up.”

  “So I was told,” I said and drank more still, not listening to what Brian or Lacey were telling me.

  I know it’s her job to make me look good, but I’m used to being bad. Old habits are hard to break, and all that.

  “So, what are you doing here?” Brian asked. “It’s not your scene.”

  I shrugged. “Working on my image.”

  “Oh, with your PR Manager.” He grinned. “Where is she? I’d like to see this woman you’ve been talking about.”

  I waved my hand. “Somewhere upstairs. I have to network by myself.”

  “She’s making you work right away then,” Brian said, and I shook my head at him. “I think I like this girl for you.”

  “Don’t you start,” I said.

  “So, have you made any progress with her? Or is the fact that you’re in a suit proof that the only person making progress here is her?”

  He chuckled.

  I shook my head. “She’s good at what she does. I’ll give her that. And no, I haven’t really made any progress. I just can’t figure her out. I just thought I had a hang of her, and now, tonight, she’s different.”

  “Different, how?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t know how to explain it. She was just less of a hard-ass and more expressive. And more beautiful, as a result. Which caught me off guard because I didn’t usually describe women, even to myself in my own mind, as beautiful. They were hot or sexy, judged on a scale of how likely it was that I would fuck them.

  This was something else entirely. I had no idea what this meant when it came to Lacey, or what this meant for her and me— as if there even was a her and me— but I intended to find out.

  Chapter 15 – Hanson

  “I should walk around and network,” I told Brian, finishing my whiskey.

  Part of me was afraid of what would happen if Lacey came back and saw that the only person I was “networking” with was my own best friend. She is feisty and wouldn’t like that one bit. But another part of me wanted to change the subject— I didn’t want to let Brian in on how fuc
king vulnerable I’d somehow become when it came to this woman I’d only barely just met.

  “Talk to her,” Brian said, pointing out a woman in a black dress that pushed up her breasts in a way that looked uncomfortable. “She’s a reporter for Miami Today, and she always writes favorably of her interviewees.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  This was clearly not Brian’s first rodeo. He was much better at schmoozing— putting his best face forward, as Lacey would call it— than I was. I walked over to the reported Brian had told me to talk to, and cleared my throat.

  She smiled and introduced herself, knowing exactly who I was. She leaned toward me when she spoke and responded to my charm. This, I could do.

  We weren’t flirting— she was old enough to be my mother— but women of any age or appearance are quick to warm up to me. At least I could use that to my advantage, although it was clear I had a lot to learn about the rest of making a good impression on people.

  After a while, we were called to the Villa Cruz Ballroom on the third floor for donation speeches. The guests made their way up the stairs slowly until everyone was packed into the ballroom. The doors onto the terrace were open, and a warm breeze blew in through the doors, circulating fresh air.

  Someone touched my elbow, and Lacey appeared beside me.

  “You seem to be doing well,” she said.

  I shrugged. “Well enough, I think.”

  “I’ve spoken to a couple of people, found out who’s donating what. This is what you need to do. You have to get up there and make a speech about your donation.”

  “What?” I looked at her, alarmed. “I don’t do public speaking.”

  She shook her head. “You’re going to have to put yourself out there and counter the bad publicity you’ve been getting with some good publicity. Just a donation won’t be enough.”

  I shook my head. I had assumed I was going to write a check and let that be it.

  “What am I supposed to say?” I asked.

  “Tell them it’s to repay the city for your behavior. But say it in a better way. Your own words. I know you have them in you. And don’t make a small donation. Anything less than fifty won’t be enough.”