But she isn’t done. She sits back down with a dramatic humph. “Tell me, Loosey Goosey.” She rolls her eyes at my cringe. She knows how much I hate the nickname. “I signed the damn thing.” She waves the NDA again. It flaps wildly in her hands. “Was it MMF? MFM? You have to at least tell me that.”
Before she rips it with all of her waving, I pluck the nondisclosure agreement from her fingers and place it safely in a folder from my desk. I hand it to Xavier, who slips it into the front of his suit.
I turn back to Aimee. “What are you talking about? What do those letters even mean?”
I look to Xavier for help, but he has an amused expression on his face that hasn’t left his chiseled features since he met Aimee. He quirks an eyebrow at me.
That’s helpful.
“Gosh, Lucy,” Aimee says. “You need to read more.” Under her breath, she mutters, “And to think I thought she’s the smart one…”
“I—”
She starts to cut me off. Before she can say anything else, I cover Aimee’s mouth with my palm. It’s my bloody one.
Oops.
“Ew!” she shrieks.
Xavier passes her a handkerchief, and I swear she swoons. I groan. We’re getting nowhere at this rate.
I grab a new tube of Starbursts from my secret stash in my dresser and hold it up. “This is the Holy Stick,” I wince at my dirty choice of words, “and whoever is holding it gets to speak. Everyone else has to stay quiet.”
I look pointedly at Aimee, because, really, Xavier hasn’t even said five words since he entered the room. The stick is to shut Aimee up and no one else. She leaps for the stick, but Xavier cuts in front of me, quicker than lightning, preventing Aimee’s body from reaching mine. It’s then that I realize that he isn’t just here to help me move out. He’s my bodyguard.
Holy Hell.
I have a personal bodyguard.
This is a crazy reminder of the kind of life Asher lives, the kind of life I’ve gotten myself into.
I clear my throat. And then I clear it again, because I can feel a panic attack coming on. I take a deep breath and answer Aimee’s questions one by one. “As far as I can tell, the only similarities between Asher Black and Christian Grey are their wealth, reclusiveness, and attractiveness. Oh, and both of their last names are the names of colors!
“I’m not sure if Asher’s into BDSM. I wouldn’t know. No, he doesn’t want me to be his submissive. I don’t think he has a red room. No, we didn’t have a threesome. We didn’t even have a twosome,” though we almost did. “That isn’t what this is about.
“We’re not going to have a foursome either, and,” I take a much needed breath, “if I were to have a foursome, you would not be in it, you weirdo!” I pause, wondering if I covered all of her questions. “Oh, and I also don’t know what MMM and FM or whatever you said means, so I can’t answer that.”
Aimee backs away from Xavier and returns to her perch on my bed. “Okay,” she drags out the word. “So, if you guys didn’t have sex and he didn’t ask you to be his submissive, what did he want?”
I steal a glance at Xavier, wondering if he knows that my engagement with Asher is fake. He was there when Asher announced our engagement, but I’m not sure if he heard Asher and me talking afterward or if Asher told him that it’s not real. This might be another test. I can ask Xavier if he has an NDA, but even if he says yes, he can easily be lying.
I turn back to Aimee and say, “Hold that thought.”
I pull out my phone and text Asher.
Lucy: Does Xavier know about our deal?
I wait a few minutes, but he doesn’t reply. Aimee is looking antsy, her mouth already opened. I wave the Starburst tube, aka the Holy Stick of permission granting powers. She closes her mouth. Another minute passes, and I lose my patience.
“Be right back,” I say and dart into the hall.
I run into the bathroom and slam the door in front of Xavier’s face. No way am I letting him follow me into the bathroom. I have boundaries. I dial Asher’s number, tapping my toes on the tile as I wait for him to pick up.
“Hello?” It’s Monica.
“Hey, Monica. Can you put Asher on the phone?” I ask sweetly, mindful that she knows the truth and can burn me and Asher in a snap.
“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry at all. “He’s in a meeting right now.”
I don’t believe her. The sound of honking in the background confirms my suspicions.
I roll my eyes, my tolerance for Monica already gone. “No, he’s not. Put him on the phone.”
“I said he’s in a meeting. Are you deaf?”
In the background, I hear Asher say, “Who is that?”
“No one,” Monica says at the same time I shout “MEEEEE!!!!!” into the microphone.
I feel like I’m five. Xavier peeks his head into the restroom, eyeing me in confusion. I push his head back out with my free hand and close the door again, locking it this time.
There’s a shuffle on the line.
“Lucy?” It’s Asher this time.
“Hey,” I say. And because I already shouted like a five year old, I decide to go all in and tattle on Monica. “Is this a bad time? Monica said you were in a meeting.”
He sucks in his breath. “I wasn’t in a meeting. I’ll have to talk to Monica about always putting your calls directly through to me.” He pauses. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah…” I lower my voice, “I was just wondering if Xavier knows about our deal. I already asked you through text, but Aimee is really itching for me to tell her everything. And Xavier is there with us, so I can’t say anything if he doesn’t know anything.”
“Oh. Yeah, he knows. Go ahead and say whatever you want in front of him.”
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay,” he says back.
We stay on the line, not saying anything. It’s surprisingly not awkward. I like the sound of his breathing.
Wait… what?!
I like the sound of his breathing?!
Who thinks shit like that?
I don’t even recognize myself.
Finally, he says, “See you later? Feel free to help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. I won’t be home until late.”
I thank him and hang up the phone, but I’m distracted by what he said.
Home.
It still hasn’t sunk in that I’m living with Asher, but after hearing him call it that, I’m beginning to realize the gravity of our situation.
I’m about to move in with Asher Black.
And suddenly, I’m glad Aimee signed the NDA and I have someone to talk to… Even though she’ll inevitably give me some piss poor advice about having sex with Asher before he changes his mind about this.
When I enter the hall again, Xavier is leaning against the wall beside the bathroom door. Some of the girls are in the hallway chatting with one another, but I can see their eyes darting to Xavier. These are the neutrals in the hall, neither ascribing to Aimee’s side nor Minka’s.
Like Switzerland.
I wonder which team Switzerland would be on—#TeamAimee or #TeamMinka? Probably Team Minka, because Aimee’s really messy. And aren’t Swiss people obsessed with cleanliness? I know they like cheese and chocolate, and they vote a bajillion times a year, and they keep to themselves, and they’re used to the cold and mountains, and something about Swiss knives, and I wonder if Asher has a Swiss knife or likes Swiss girls, and…
Okay, I’m mentally rambling. Again.
Being in the hallway makes me nervous. I’m always on alert, worried that Minka might round a corner and pounce on me. I’m also trying really hard not to think about how I like Asher’s breathing, and I’m moving in with him, and—
Nope.
Not thinking about any of it.
The girls eye me curiously but not unkindly when Xavier straightens up at the sight of me. I ignore them, because even though they haven’t added to Team Minka’s torment of me, they haven’t been helping either
. Plus, soon they won’t be my neighbors anyway. Hopefully, this is the end of my time dealing with Minka & Co., too.
“Sorry,” I say to Xavier. “I had to ask Asher if you know about my deal with him.”
“You could have just asked me,” he murmurs, keeping his voice appropriately low.
I whisper, too. “No, I couldn’t.”
He could have lied. We both know it. When I see the look of approval in his eyes, I know I just passed another test. This one may not be from Asher, but it’s from one of his guards, and that means something. It’s flattering, even.
The first words out of my mouth when I enter the dorm room are, “I’m fake engaged to Asher Black.” I grab the Holy Stick from my desk and toss it Aimee’s way.
She’s so shocked, she lets it drop to the floor. She recovers, picking it up quickly. “No way.”
I hold my handout for the stick and catch it when she throws it my way. “Yep.”
She takes the stick. “Who? What? When? Where? And Why?”
I take a deep breath and begin, “Who? Asher Black in front of Black Enterprise’s board of directors.
“What? It was a fake proposal to make him look stable in front of the board. One of the douchenozzles,” Xavier snorts, “is trying to get Asher voted off the island.
“When? Asher announced our engagement to the board a couple nights ago, as soon as we headed upstairs after we danced. It caught me the Hell off guard, but I played along.
“Where? It was at the part of the VIP floor that overlooks the rest of the club. That balcony area.
“Why? Like I said, he needs to appear stable in front of the board. They all have wives and families, so marriage is how they judge stability.” I toss the Holy Stick her way.
She impresses me by catching it midair. “Wow. You’re engaged to Asher Black.”
“Fake engaged,” I butt in.
She tuts at me and waves the Holy Stick in my face. “When are you guys having sex?”
I knew it.
I roll my eyes, expecting nothing less of Aimee. I tug the stick out of her hands. “We aren’t. We’re fake engaged, I repeat. Fake. Fake. Fake.”
She takes the stick. “You don’t have to be engaged to someone to have sex. You just have to be near them.”
Because Aimee is on her best behavior, I snatch the stick and toss it in my desk, so we can talk freely without the tedious back and forth. “Fair point.”
“I say you use your access to his home to show up in his bed in tiny lingerie. Seduce the Hell out of him.”
I roll my eyes. “That would make the rest of this engagement so awkward.”
“Sex is only awkward if the two consenting parties are immature or not ready to have it.” She looks me up and down. “What you’re experiencing right now isn’t a dry spell. Hell, it isn’t even a drought. It’s a dust bowl. Tell me, do you find cobwebs in there every time you get yourself off?”
Xavier snorts beside me.
I glare at him. “I’m not having sex with Asher. Drop it.”
“Fine.” She sighs like she’s thinking it’s not fine at all. “So, how is this going to work?”
I hesitate. “That’s the thing. I’m moving into his place.”
She sits up straighter. “But…” A pout crosses her red lips. “What about the dorms? You’re my roommate! You can’t leave me!”
“I have to! It won’t make any sense if I don’t live with him.”
“But what about me? What about our friendship?”
“We’ll be fine! You’ll still be my best friend, and I’ll be walking distance from you. Asher’s home is right next to campus.”
“Your home,” she corrects.
“What?”
“It’s your home now, too.” Her eyes roam over my tense form. “If you’re going to move in together, at least call it your place, too.”
I sigh and sit beside her on my bed. “This feels unreal.”
She wraps an arm around me. “Please, tell me you’ll be sharing the same bed.”
I cover my face with my hands. “I don’t know. I think we actually will be. Hell, we almost did the first night until he got up and slept on the floor. I think he did that for me. We haven’t slept together since.”
She stands up, rummages through her closet, and then hands me something. “Here. Keep it. He won’t know what hit him.”
I glance down at what she gave me. It’s a slinky negligee, cute and sexy all at once. No way am I wearing this anywhere near Asher.
“Thanks,” I say, because I know she’ll fight back if I decline her gift.
She narrows her eyes in suspicion, but she doesn’t call me out on my bullshit. “I guess you’re here to pack up your stuff, huh?”
I nod. “He wants me out of here by the end of the day.”
She stands up. “Come on. I’ll help you.”
I astound us both when I stand up and wrap my arms around her in a hug. One she honestly deserves. She really is a great friend.
We spend the next half hour packing with Xavier’s help. It doesn’t take long, because as an orphan, I don’t have much. It takes Xavier only two trips to carry all of my possessions to the car. While he’s making his last trip, I change out of the LBD from two nights ago, which I threw on again before I left Asher’s. I didn’t want to wear his shirt down the hall while I did my walk of shame. And the evening gown would have drawn way too much attention.
I pull on a romper I put aside while packing earlier and throw my dress into my backpack with the rest of my schoolwork. Then, I’m hugging Aimee goodbye like it’s the last time we’ll ever see each other. I don’t know why this feels so final. I mean, we already agreed to meet at an off-campus restaurant for lunch later next week.
But my gut is telling me that this is the end of something.
I just don’t know what.
Chapter Fifteen
Courage is doing what
you're afraid to do. There
can be no courage unless
you're scared.
Eddie Rickenbacker
It’s quiet when Xavier and I get home.
Home.
I tremble at the word.
Xavier helps me carry my things into the master bedroom. We work silently, hanging my clothes in a corner of the closet that I cleared of Asher’s clothes. Other than my laptop, chargers and school stuff, I don’t have much else. I left my bedding behind for Aimee, because she’s always liked my bed better. We both know it’s because hers is a mess. In a week’s time, my old bed will be the same way.
My stomach grumbles. The sound of it is the only familiar thing about this place. I sigh and go downstairs to make dinner. The kitchen is stocked, which is a nice surprise. Vaserley Hall doesn’t have kitchens. All of the residents eat in a communal dining room that serves food buffet style. Having food whenever I want was nice at first, but I eventually got sick of the limited choices. It’s nice to be able to prepare food for myself for a change.
I pull out the ingredients for a lasagna, along with a knife, a wooden cutting board and a large pot. I mince some garlic and fennel seeds, dice an onion, and chop some parsley, oregano and rosemary. I sauté the onions in olive oil and add the garlic, fennel seeds and some ground chicken. After adding the rest of the ingredients, some spices and a shit ton of red wine, I turn the stove to a simmer and wash the tomatoes out of my hands.
Xavier follows me upstairs as I grab my textbook. By the time the sauce is done, I have finished most of my homework for the week at the kitchen table. I beat an egg into the ricotta cheese and add some parsley. Then, I grab a large baking dish, shredded mozzarella and some gourmet no boil lasagna noodles I find in the hidden butler’s pantry. I layer the lasagna and put it into the preheated oven.
I try to finish my stats homework, the only homework I have left for the week, but fiduciary inference is kicking my ass. I push it aside, giving up, and turn my attention to Xavier. He’s sitting next to me at the dining room table, his arms crossed ov
er his chest and his eyes focused on the front door.
Periodically, he has been getting up to scan the room and walk around the house, probably searching for threats. It’s a pointless effort, though. This place is like Fort Knox. The Secret Service can probably learn a thing or two from Asher and his security team.
Earlier, I passed by the security room and saw four security guards sitting in there, looking at more than a dozen flat screens filled with live, HD video of the building. There are cameras positioned at the hallways for all floors of the entire building, all around the exterior of the building, in the parking garages, and in all the public areas inside the building. I even saw some camera angles that had to be taken from the buildings across from ours.
Looking at the footage, I learned that there’s a communal theater room and gym in the first floor of the building, too, but judging by how crowded the tower’s gym is, I don’t fault Asher for wanting his own. Plus, for security reasons, the only entrance into the penthouse is from the elevator in Asher’s private garage and the emergency stairwell next to it. Both of these can only be accessed from the penthouse and from the garage.
It would be annoying to take the elevator downstairs, walk through the private garage to the residents’ garage, take an elevator into the lobby, and then walk to the gym from there every time I want to work out. The walk there is enough of a workout for my lazy ass.
“How are you not bored?” I finally ask Xavier after watching him scan the room with his eyes for the millionth time.
“Bored?” His brows are drawn together. “Why would I be bored?”
“Because you’ve been sitting there, doing nothing.”
“I’m doing my job.”
I sigh. “What’s up with the security? I understand the heavy security at the club, but here, too?”
“The security guards at the club belong to the Romano family. Mr. Black never fired them when he got full ownership of Rogue. It would take too long to train new guys, and he already trusts the ones working there. Plus, the guys like it. It’s much safer than a security detail at one of the other clubs would be.
Asher Black: A Fake Fiance Mafia Romance Novel (The Five Syndicates Book 1) Page 13