by Erika Rhys
“Thank you, darlings,” she said breezily. “Now, I really must get on with my day. In any case, you two lovebirds surely have your own plans, which I’ve interrupted for too long already.”
We followed her from the master suite into the living area, where she turned toward the foyer and the door.
“I’ll be in touch,” she said as Ronan opened the door for her. “And Ava—before the party, do something about your hands. We can’t have Ronan’s fiancée show up looking like a farmer.”
I resisted the urge to slap her. “Of course,” I said. “Since my work makes it impossible to maintain a manicure, I always get one before events.”
“Perfect,” she said. “Toodles, darlings—and don’t worry about a thing. Just send me the names of anyone you want to invite by tomorrow night, and I’ll make sure they receive an invitation.”
“We’ll do that,” Ronan said.
“Then I’m off,” she said. With a wave and a final flash of teeth, she disappeared into the elevator.
After Ronan closed the door behind her, he turned to face me.
“Thank you for that,” he said. “You handled her beautifully.”
“I don’t know about that. But I did the best I could.”
“My stepmother’s a piece of work. No one could have done better.”
Warmed by his praise, I smiled at him. “You were pretty amazing yourself.”
He shot me a mischievous grin. “What I am is lucky. After your performance today, I know we can do this. We’ll have to go a few more rounds with Veronica, but eventually, she’ll be forced to give up and accept that our fake relationship is real.”
“You have more faith in my acting skills than I do,” I said. “But I hope you’re right.”
“I know I’m right,” he said.
And then, for the second time in the past half hour, he surprised me by saying the last thing I expected to hear.
“The two of us make a great team.”
16
AVA
“I can’t believe the engagement party is tomorrow,” I said to Mimi. “I’m totally dreading it.”
My friend put down her fork and looked across the table at me. “You and Ronan are going to be fine,” she said. “Didn’t you just say that things have been going better between the two of you?”
I’d asked her to meet me for lunch at Veselka, an East Village diner that served a mixture of classic diner fare and Ukrainian specialties, because with the party bearing down on me, I needed to bolster my spirits and calm my nerves, both of which Mimi’s presence usually did for me.
“For the most part, they have,” I said. “We haven’t been arguing—well, at least not about anything important.”
Mimi pushed a tendril of curly red hair away from her face. “You and Ronan are both strong personalities,” she said. “You can’t expect to agree about everything. What’s important is establishing friendship, rapport, and agreement about the big stuff. That’s what will carry you through the next two years.”
“I do feel like we’re becoming friends,” I said. “When I first moved in, he spent so much time at work that I felt like I was living alone. But over the past two weeks since we announced our engagement, he’s been spending more time at the apartment. Sometimes he works out or spends the evening in his home office—but sometimes we make dinner together and watch a movie. Like me, he loves classic Hollywood movies, although the other night, when we watched Notorious, he gave me hell for drooling over Cary Grant.”
Mimi sighed. “What woman hasn’t drooled over Cary Grant? He’s only the sexiest, most gorgeous man to ever walk the face of the earth.”
“When I said just that, Ronan called him an overrated dandy,” I said. “Although I eventually forced him to acknowledge that Cary had serious acting chops.”
“Typical male jealousy,” Mimi said, her eyes twinkling. “Although your fake husband-to-be has no need to be jealous of any man. He’s smoking hot.”
“He’s all that, and then some—which is becoming a problem.”
Mimi furrowed her brow. “What do you mean? Has Ronan broken your agreement in some way?”
“No—not at all,” I said. “He’s been great. Like I said, we’re becoming friends. The problem is me.”
She gave me a long, penetrating look before she spoke. “You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I confessed. “I shouldn’t be, and I know better. But none of that changes the fact that when he touches me by accident, or stands near me when we’re making dinner together, I totally want to tear his clothes off.”
“Then why don’t you?” Mimi said. “It’s not as though you’d be breaking your agreement. Neither of you can have sex with other people, but there’s nothing in your agreement about getting it on with each other.”
“Too risky. Besides, he’s not into me in that way. I’m not the type of woman he’s attracted to. Cara told me once that Ronan likes blondes with big tits, which is pretty much the polar opposite of me.”
“You’re a beautiful woman,” Mimi said. “If you put the moves on Ronan, he won’t turn you down.”
“Maybe not. But that would only create a bigger mess.”
“How so?”
“By blurring the boundaries of our arrangement. Having sex with Ronan would confuse everything.”
“It could. But it doesn’t have to.”
“I disagree.”
She leveled me with a look. “Communication is everything, Ava. You and Ronan are free to change your arrangement in any way you like, as long as you’re honest with each other. I may not be a fan of commitment—but open communication is the key to all successful relationships, whether those relationships are long or short.”
“Maybe you’re right, but I’ve never experienced anything like this. You know I’ve always been a relationship kind of girl.”
“You know my feelings on that topic,” Mimi said. “Sex is a simple human need—why complicate it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because sex has never felt simple to me. Maybe because my dream is to find Mr. Right and build a life and a family together.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Mimi said. “Ronan’s no Mr. Right. He’s a Mr. Right Now.”
“Exactly,” I said. “If I did have sex with him, what if that led to feelings? What if I started falling for him? It’s not like I could just run the other way—not when we’ve made a two-year commitment to each other.”
Mimi rummaged in her purse, pulled out a long, silver e-cigarette that no doubt contained some form of marijuana, and took an extended drag on it before she responded.
“I understand your hesitation,” she said. “You’re torn between fear and attraction.”
“That’s just it. What do you think I should do?”
“What I think doesn’t matter,” she said, before taking another drag on her e-cigarette. “You have to do what’s right for you—and you also need to chill the fuck out. You’re practically vibrating right now. You shouldn’t stress yourself out by overthinking this.”
I sighed. “I’m definitely guilty of overthinking this.”
“You don’t have to make a decision today. Just remember that you and Ronan are free adults. Whatever you do—or don’t do—is between the two of you. But sex doesn’t have to turn into a relationship. Sometimes, sex can be just sex.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Sex with Ronan seems risky to me. And with any luck, my insane attraction to him will pass with time.”
“Or not,” Mimi said, giving me a mischievous look. “The most effective way to relieve an itch is to scratch it, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re too much. But perhaps I’ll consider taking your advice—about two years from now.”
17
RONAN
When the day of the engagement party arrived, Ava spent the morning getting a manicure and pedicure, while I did my best to relax by working out and then playing my favorite video game.
After Ava returned, I made us a light lunch, before we separated to get ready. With characteristic thoroughness, Veronica had arranged for my father’s chauffeur to pick us up in his limo, which simplified getting to and from Southampton. Thankfully, my stepmother hadn’t pressed us to stay overnight.
As I looked through my ties to choose one that would complement my dark-gray suit, I remembered that Ava had told me she would be wearing a red dress. Should I wear a red tie—or would that be too “matchy-matchy,” as Cara would say? After some deliberation, I selected a silver Brioni tie with a subtle geometric texture. After knotting it around my neck, I adjusted my collar, stepped in front of the mirror, and decided that I’d made the right choice. The sheen of the tie looked good with my white shirt and gray suit, and with Ava in red, the two of us would make a fine-looking couple.
After finishing my preparations, I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I filled a tumbler with Evian, I heard a door open. I was just taking my first sip of water when Ava entered the kitchen.
“Wow,” I said as she stepped toward me and did a little twirl. “You’re stunning.”
It was no less than the truth. The scarlet fabric of her sleeveless, floor-length dress shimmered against her curves. The neckline of her dress bared one slender shoulder, and a thigh-high slit on the opposite side revealed flashes of long, shapely leg. The ring I’d given her glittered on her left hand, and diamond solitaires gleamed against her ears. Her dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a sleek chignon, but she’d allowed a few tendrils to escape around her face in ways that were sexy as hell. In her right hand, she carried a star-shaped clutch bag covered with sparkling beads and crystals that matched the scarlet of her dress. What was she wearing beneath it? In response to that thought, my cock hardened. I forced my mind to boner-killing thoughts, visualizing the least attractive women I could think of naked.
Which wasn’t easy with Ava standing right in front of me, not when I wanted to seize her and peel that dress off her one inch at a time.
But tonight wasn’t about pleasure. I had a job to do. At the thought of what blowing up my fake marriage would mean for my business, the pressure in my cock began to recede.
“Thank you,” Ava said. She gave me an uncharacteristically shy half smile. “Doing myself up like this was nothing short of an epic production, but I love the dress, purse, and heels that Cara and I chose together—not to mention the earrings.”
“My sister knows her stuff,” I said, shifting the left side of my jacket to conceal the remainder of my not-so-little problem. “You look amazing.”
“I’m relieved that you like it,” she said. “You paid for it, after all.”
“How much?”
“The whole ensemble, including the earrings? Nearly twenty grand.”
“Worth every penny,” I said, meaning it. “You look like a fire princess.”
She laughed. “Cinderella is more like it—but thank you. Between the dress, the four-inch heels, and the diamonds, I feel like a princess.”
With my cock now under control, I tossed back the rest of my water and then put the glass down on the counter before holding out my arm to Ava. “My father’s driver will be outside any minute, if he isn’t already there. Shall we?”
She took my arm. “Let’s do it.”
18
AVA
Since early April was off-season for the Hamptons, our afternoon drive to Southampton took just over two hours, less than half the time it could take during the summer months. When the limo turned into the wide gravel driveway of the estate, passed the security gate, and proceeded down a long, tree-lined driveway toward a four-story, shingle-sided mansion, it was half past five, and the late-afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the landscape.
I couldn’t help staring. Southampton real estate was among the most expensive in the United States, and based on what the view from the car’s windows, Ronan’s family owned a massive chunk of it.
Ronan gestured to the right. “The tennis court and guest house are over there,” he said, pointing toward a second shingle-sided building that looked like another mansion. “The beach is just beyond the main house.”
The driveway widened into a spacious parking court, where I noticed several delivery vehicles, their presence no doubt connected to tonight’s party. The driver stopped in front of the house, before getting out and opening the door. Ronan got out first and then helped me out of the car. In his perfectly fitted suit, he was impossibly handsome, and as he guided me from the car to the ground, a twinge of arousal shot through me. Between the limousine ride, the fairy-tale beauty of the setting, and Ronan’s attentiveness, it felt as if I’d stepped into one of the romantic movies I loved. Today was so unlike my everyday life, it was almost an out-of-body experience.
“It’s warm for early April,” he said. “Would you like to see the beach before we go inside?”
“I’d love to,” I said. “But in the heels I’m wearing, I don’t dare to set foot on the beach. If I show up for this party with sand-covered feet, Veronica will murder both of us.”
“I have a solution,” he said. “Hold on to my arm.”
Carefully, he guided me across the manicured lawn to the right of the house as the salty sea air filled my nostrils. At the corner of the house, we turned left and walked up several steps onto a broad porch that faced the water. As I turned toward the ocean, a light breeze stirred my hair, and the sound of crashing surf reached my ears. Before us, a broad strip of lawn gave way to dunes carpeted with mounds of rosa rugosa bushes that stretched to a pristine expanse of sand and the ocean beyond.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “No wonder your father and Veronica prefer to spend most of their time here.”
“I spent summers here when I was a kid,” he said.
“What was that like?” I asked. He rarely spoke about his childhood, but I knew from Cara that from the time she and Ronan reached adolescence, they had avoided spending much time with their father and stepmother.
“Between Dad’s busy work schedule and the amount of entertaining he and Veronica do, it could get monotonous for a kid,” he said. “But the Mortons were good to me. Evelyn never minded when I trailed her around the house or hung out in the kitchen. She always kept my favorite peanut-butter cookies on hand. And Alfred taught me to ride my first bicycle.”
“Will I have a chance to meet them tonight?”
From conversations with Cara and Ronan, I knew that Alfred Morton and his wife, Evelyn, were the butler and housekeeper—together, they had managed the estate and its staff for decades. Childless themselves, in some ways the Mortons had parented Cara and Ronan more than their father and stepmother had.
“We’ll find an opportunity,” Ronan said. “I think of Alfred and Evelyn as family, and I never come here without making time to see them.” He looked out at the ocean. “Aside from spending time with them, the other thing I enjoyed about summers here was being outside. I liked my tennis and sailing lessons—especially sailing.”
“I don’t really know how to sail,” I said. “But during college, I sailed a few times with a friend whose parents had a house in Woods Hole.”
“Did you enjoy it?” he asked.
“I loved being on the water, although I didn’t have a clue how to manage the boat. I just yanked on whatever rope my friend told me to pull.”
“Then we’ll make time to go for a sail this summer,” he said. “We can take my father’s boat—or I can rent one.”
Surprised and pleased by his offer, I squeezed his arm. “I’d like that.”
Just then, a door opened, and Veronica emerged, looking flawless in a cream-colored, floor-length sheath dress and matching heels. A tall, distinguished-looking man wearing a navy-blue jacket and tan trousers followed her, and I immediately recognized him as Carter Kingsley, Ronan and Cara’s father. Aside from Carter’s dark eyes, silver-streaked hair, and the creases around his eyes and mouth, Ronan strongly resembled his father.
�
��For goodness sake, Ronan,” Veronica said. “What were you thinking, dragging Ava out here? She’ll catch her death of cold.”
Did Ronan’s stepmother ever miss an opportunity to put him down? If she did, I hadn’t witnessed it yet.
“I’m fine,” I said. “It’s a warm evening, and it’s my fault that we’re outside. We came here because I asked Ronan to show me the view.”
Veronica shook her head disapprovingly before turning to her husband. “Carter, darling, why don’t you take Ava and Ronan to the second-floor sitting room? I need to keep an eye on the staff and caterers.”
“I’ll do that,” Carter said, in a voice that reminded me of Ronan’s. As Veronica disappeared into the house, he held out his hand to me. “Welcome to our home, Ava. I’m delighted to finally meet you.”
I shook his hand. “It’s great to meet you too.”
After releasing me, Carter shook Ronan’s hand, clapped his son on the back, and gave me a charming smile as his gaze traveled over my body in a way that made me uncomfortable. “You didn’t tell me how beautiful your fiancée is, Ronan. Now that I’ve seen her for myself, I understand why your bachelor days have come to an end.”
“Ava’s unique,” Ronan said as we followed Carter inside. “From the day we met, I knew she was the woman I wanted to marry.”
Carter led us down a wide, well-lit hallway, the walls of which were lined with oil paintings. Through an open door, I caught a glimpse of a room bustling with caterers and staff that appeared to be the estate’s kitchen and a second room in which two floral designers were putting finishing touches on several arrangements. After leading us up a flight of stairs and stepping into a second hallway, Carter paused and gestured toward the entrance of a ballroom-sized space to his right.