A Very Exclusive Engagement

by Andrea Laurence

  “I know this is a big deal. And not at all what you were expecting when you walked in here today. But it’s all going to work out.” He moved closer to her and put his arms gently around her waist. She reluctantly eased into his embrace, placing her hands on his lapels and looking up into his eyes. “I promise.”

  The dark eyes watching him were not so certain. He needed to reassure her. To make her feel more at ease with their new situation and prove they were compatible enough to pull this off. He only knew of one way to comfort a woman. He slowly lowered his lips to hers, giving her time to pull away if she needed to. She didn’t. She met his lips with her own, her body leaning into his.

  The kiss wasn’t like the one in the elevator. They had come together then in a passionate and desperate rush. Two people in a stressful situation looking for any way to deal with their nervous tension. This kiss was soft, gentle and reassuring. They were feeling their way around each other. Her lips were silky against his, the taste of her like cinnamon and coffee. She made a soft sound of pleasure that sent a warm heat running through his veins. It reminded him of the cries she’d made beneath him that first day. It beckoned him to explore further, but he didn’t dare push this moment too far. At this point, she could change her mind and no one would know the difference.

  He couldn’t risk running her off. They both needed this fake engagement to work. And if it did, he would eventually have his chance to touch her again. The thought gave him the strength to pull away.

  Francesca rocked back onto her heels, her cheeks flushed and her eyes a little misty. She took a deep breath to collect herself and took a full step back from him. “Well,” she said with a nervous laugh, “that authenticity thing shouldn’t be an issue.”

  Liam smiled. “Not at all. Are you hungry?”

  She straightened her suit coat and shrugged. “A little.”

  “Okay. You’re not starving, so let’s go ring shopping first. Then if we run into anyone at lunch, we’ll have it and can share the news like a happy couple would.”

  “I need to get my purse from my office before we leave. I’ll meet you at…” Her voice trailed off.

  “The elevator?” he said with a grin.

  She blushed. “Yes, I’ll meet you at the elevator.”

  *

  They strolled out of Pampillonia Fine Jewelry two hours later and, frankly, Francesca was exhausted. Who knew jewelry shopping could be so tiring? She almost wished that Liam had just popped the question with ring in hand like most men would and saved her the trouble of choosing.

  Instead, they had spent the past couple of hours quibbling. She was worried that Liam was spending too much, especially considering it was a fake engagement. Liam insisted that Francesca needed to choose a ring large enough for people to see from a distance. Fake or not, the engagement needed to be splashy so people like his aunt would take notice.

  They finally came to a compromise when she got tired of arguing and just let herself choose the ring she’d want if this were a real relationship and she had to wear the ring every day for the rest of her life. By the time they left, she was certain there was no doubt in the jeweler’s mind that they were a real couple getting a head start on a lifetime of fussing at one another.

  When it was all over, Francesca was the proud owner of a two-carat emerald-cut diamond solitaire framed with micro-pavé set diamonds in a platinum split band with diamond scrollwork. It was a stunning ring, and as they walked to the restaurant where they had lunch reservations, she almost couldn’t believe it was on her hand. The weight of it pulling on her finger kept prompting her to lift her hand to look at it.

  Francesca had dreamed her whole life of the day a man would give her a ring like this. The ring was right. But everything else was so wrong. Her life had taken a truly surreal turn since she had woken up this morning.

  “Are you hungry now?” he asked as they approached the bistro with outdoor seating. It was perfect for an early May lunch; luckily, the Manhattan heat wave had not affected the D.C. area. It was pleasant and sunny in the high seventies with a breeze.

  She still wasn’t really hungry. Her stomach hadn’t come to terms with the day’s events. But she needed to eat or her blood sugar would get low and she’d spend the afternoon eating cookies out of the network vending machines. “I could eat. I think.”

  They followed the hostess, who took them to a shaded table for two on the patio. As nice as it was outside, she’d secretly hoped to get a table indoors. The street was so busy with foot traffic that she was certain to see someone she knew. Of course, she could just as easily run into someone inside. Between her and Liam, they knew a lot of people in this town. Francesca wasn’t sure she was ready to play the gushing new fiancée for them yet.

  Liam pulled her chair out for her and saw that she was comfortably seated before taking his own seat.

  “I’m starving,” he said, picking up the menu.

  Francesca had to admit she wasn’t surprised. Liam seemed to be constantly hungry when she was around him. “No breakfast?”

  He shook his head. “I really haven’t eaten much since I had dinner at my aunt’s house. Killed my appetite, you know?”

  “I do,” she agreed. Nothing on the menu looked appealing, so she settled on a spinach salad with chicken. At the very least she was eating something figure-friendly.

  She had a wedding dress to fit into, after all.

  The thought crept into her brain, startling her upright in her seat. Where had that come from?

  “Are you okay?” Liam asked.

  “Yes,” she said dismissively. “I just remembered something I need to do when we get back to the office.”

  Liam nodded and looked back at the menu. Francesca shook her head and closed her eyes. There would be no wedding and no wedding dress. It didn’t matter how real their kisses seemed or how quickly her whole body responded to Liam’s touch. It didn’t matter that she had a luxury condo’s worth of diamonds on her hand. Because she wasn’t really engaged. She was Liam’s fake fiancée. It was a business arrangement, nothing more, despite what she had to tell her friends and family.

  The waiter took their orders and left with their menus. Feeling awkward, Francesca sipped her water and eyeballed her ring. She didn’t know what to say to her new fiancé.

  “Now that all the engagement stuff is arranged, I wanted to talk to you about something else, too.”

  She looked up at him with a sense of dread pooling in her stomach. She couldn’t take any more surprises today. “No, Liam, I will not have your baby to make your aunt happy.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “No babies, I promise. This is strictly work-related. I’ve been kicking around this idea for a few days, but the nonsense with my aunt sidetracked me. I wanted to ask…you’re friends with Ariella Winthrop, aren’t you?”

  Francesca sighed. Her friend Ariella had been the media equivalent of the Holy Grail since the inaugural ball in January where it was revealed that the successful events planner was the newly elected president’s long-lost daughter. How many journalists and garden-variety busybodies had asked Francesca about her friend since the scandal hit? More than she could count. Yes, they were friends. They had been for several years. That didn’t mean she had anything useful to share with the press, even if she would tell—and she wouldn’t. Ariella was adopted. She hadn’t even known who her birth father was for sure until the DNA test results came back a little more than a month ago.

  “I am,” she said, her tone cautious.

  “I was wondering if you could talk to her for me. I’ve got an idea that I think she might be interested in, but I wanted to run it by you first. I know ANS reporters and old management were responsible for the whole mess with President Morrow and her. I was hoping we could make a sort of goodwill gesture to them both.”

  “A fruit basket?” she suggested.

  “A televised reunion show with Ariella and the president.”

  Francesca groaned aloud. That was a horrible
idea. “Go with the fruit basket. Really.”

  Liam held up his hand. “Hear me out. I know lots of rumors and misinformation are swirling around on the other networks, especially because everyone involved isn’t talking to the press. ANS obviously has stayed out of the story after everything that happened. I want to offer them the opportunity to publically set the record straight. Give them a chance to meet and clear the air without any spin or dramatic angles.”

  “That has ‘exploitive’ written all over it.”

  “And that is why I would give you total control over the show. You’re her friend and she trusts you. You could work directly with the White House press secretary and see to it that no one is even remotely uncomfortable. No other network will offer them an opportunity like this, I guarantee it.”

  Francesca couldn’t hold back her frown. She didn’t like the sound of this at all. If it went badly and ANS ended up with mud on its face, there would be no coming back from it and Ariella might never forgive her. “I don’t know, Liam.”

  “This is a win-win for everyone involved. Ariella and the president get to tell their story, their way. ANS will get the exclusive on their interview and it will help us make amends for the hacking scandal. It can’t go wrong. You’ll see to it that it doesn’t turn into a circus. It’s perfect.”

  Perfect for ratings. But Francesca wasn’t so sure television was the right environment for her friend to be reunited with her famous birth father. That was an important moment for them both. A private moment. Ariella hadn’t spoken much to her about the situation, but Francesca knew it was hard for her friend.

  “Just promise me you’ll ask her. If she doesn’t want to do it, I’ll let the whole idea drop.”

  The waiter came with their lunches, placing them on the table and briefly interrupting their conversation.

  “I’ll talk to her,” Francesca agreed after he left. “But I can’t promise anything. She made one short statement to the press, but aside from that, she’s turned down every interview request she’s received.”

  “That’s all I ask. Thank you.”

  Francesca speared a piece of chicken and spinach with her fork. “At last, the dirty truth comes out. You’re just marrying me for my political connections.”

  “A completely unfounded accusation,” he said with a wicked grin. “I’m marrying you for that slammin’ body.”

  Francesca met his gaze, expecting to see the light of humor there, but instead she found a heat of appreciation for what he saw. It was the same way he’d looked at her in that elevator when she’d had only a camisole to cover her. Today, she was deliberately covered head to toe, but it didn’t matter. Liam apparently had an excellent memory.

  A warmth washed over her, making her squirm uncomfortably in her seat with her own memories of that day. She had wanted him so badly in that moment, and if she was honest with herself, she still did. Things were just so complicated. Would giving into her desire for him be better or worse now that they were “engaged”?

  She wished she hadn’t opted for the silk scarf around her neck. It was strangling her now. Her left hand flew to her throat and started nervously tugging at the fabric. “I…well, I uh…”

  A voice called to them from the sidewalk, interrupting her incoherent response. “Francesca, what is that I see on your hand?”

  So much for not running into anyone she knew. On the other side of the wrought-iron railing that separated the bistro seating from the sidewalk was her friend Scarlet Anders. The willowy redhead owned a party planning company with Ariella that specialized in weddings and receptions. She could smell a new diamond from a mile away.

  “Scarlet!” she said, pasting a smile on her face and hoping Scarlet didn’t see through it. “How are you feeling?” she asked to distract her from the ring. Her friend had suffered a head injury earlier in the year and had temporarily lost her memory. It was a reasonable question that might buy Francesca a few minutes to get their engagement story straight.

  Scarlet wrinkled her nose. “I’m fine, really. The doctors say there’s not a single, lingering side effect from my accident. Now stop fussing over me, you staller, and let me see that hand.”

  Reluctantly, Francesca held out her left hand, letting the flawless diamond sparkle in the sunlight. Scarlet looked at the ring, then at Liam and back at her. “You are engaged to Liam Crowe. Liam Crowe. You know, when Daniel proposed to me, I told you and Ariella almost the moment it happened.”

  That was true, Francesca thought guiltily. And under any other circumstances, she would’ve done the same thing. This just didn’t feel like a real engagement. Because it wasn’t. “It just happened,” she insisted, grinning widely with feigned excitement at her groom to be. “We just picked out the ring before lunch.”

  Scarlet smiled. “It’s beautiful. You two are so sneaky. I didn’t even know you guys were dating. How did this happen?”

  “We, uh…” Francesca realized she had no clue what to say. They hadn’t really gotten around to deciding what they’re relationship history was. Certainly the truth wouldn’t do, or people would think they were crazy. “Actually, um…”

  “We started seeing each other a while back when I first started looking to buy ANS,” Liam interjected. “With everything going on, we wanted to keep it quiet for a while. But after being trapped in that elevator with Francesca, I knew I had to spend the rest of my life with her.”

  Francesca swallowed her snort of contempt as Scarlet sighed with romantic glee. “That is so sweet. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me, of all people, but you two are just adorable together. So when is your engagement party? You have to let Ariella and I do it for you.”

  “No,” Francesca insisted. “You’ve been so busy with Cara and Max’s wedding and now, planning your own big day.” The former newscaster and the public relations specialist for the White House press secretary had married at the end of March. Scarlet’s beau, Daniel, had proposed to her at the wedding reception. “Don’t worry about us. We’re probably not going to—”

  “Nonsense,” Scarlet said. “I insist. I’m on my way back to the office right now. I’ll tell Ariella the good news and we’ll get right to work on it. When would you like to have it?”

  “Soon,” Liam interjected, cutting off another of Francesca’s protests. “This weekend, if at all possible. We can’t wait to share our excitement with all our friends and family.”

  Scarlet’s eyes widened, but she quickly recovered with a pert nod. She was used to dealing with the unreasonable demands of powerful D.C. couples. “I’m sure we can make that happen. Short notice makes it harder to find a venue, but I’ve got a couple of people who owe me some favors. For you, I’m thinking an afternoon garden party. Something outdoors. Light nibbles, champagne punch. Maybe a gelato bar. How does that sound?”

  Francesca choked down a sip of her water. “That sounds beautiful.” And it did. It was just what she would’ve chosen for her engagement party. Her friend knew her well. She just wished they weren’t wasting their efforts on an engagement that wouldn’t lead to a loving marriage.

  Scarlet was bursting with excitement. Francesca could see the lists being made in her head. Flowers, caterers, maybe even a string quartet to serenade the guests. Scarlet did everything with a stylish flair that was famous in elite D.C. society. “I will give you a call tomorrow and work out some details.”

  “Just tell me where to send the check.” Liam smiled.

  “Absolutely,” Scarlet said. “Talk to you soon.” She swung her bag over her shoulder and disappeared down the sidewalk with an excited pep in her step. She really did live for this stuff.

  Francesca wished she could work up as much enthusiasm. And she needed to if they were going to pull this off. Because this was really happening. Really, really happening.

  What on earth had she done?

  Five

  Liam hadn’t planned on their having dinner that night, but seeing Francesca with Scarlet had made it absolutely necessary.
They really knew nothing about each other. They had no relationship backstory. Once the news of their engagement got out, people would start asking questions and they needed to get their stories straight.

  Usually this kind of discussion happened before the engagement, but they were working on a steep learning curve, here. After the waiter took their orders, Liam settled back into his seat and looked at his fiancée. He knew she was beautiful, feisty, caring and exciting. He knew that he desired her more than any other woman he’d ever known. And yet, he knew almost nothing about who she was and where she’d come from. That was a problem.

  “So, Francesca, tell me all about yourself. I need to know everything to play this part properly and convince everyone we’re really together.”

  “I feel like I’m trying to get a green card or something.” She took a sip of wine as she tried to determine where best to start. “I grew up in Beverly Hills. My father is a Hollywood movie producer, as you know. He met my mother on a film set in Sicily and they eloped within a month of meeting.”

  “So they have no room to complain about our quick engagement?”

  “Not at all.” She smiled. “Although that didn’t stop my father from giving me an earful on the phone this afternoon. I had to assure him that we would have an extended engagement to keep him from hopping a jet over here and having a chat with you.”

  “The longest engagement in history,” Liam quipped.

  “My parents are my model for what a marriage should be. It’s what I’ve always hoped to have one day when I get married.”

  Liam took note. Francesca wanted the real deal for herself, just like her parents. This was probably not what she thought her engagement would be like. He felt bad about that. But she still had her chance to have the fairy tale with the next guy. This was just a temporary arrangement.

  “I have a younger sister, Therése,” she continued, “who lives in San Francisco. She’s a fashion photographer. I moved to D.C. after graduation to go to Georgetown.”