by Bella Forro
I could feel her bristle from across the table, and I stretched one long leg out so that it brushed up against her.
If I thought that might distract her, I was sadly mistaken, she was on him just as soon as he’d finished asking the question.
“With all due respect,” she began.
And my heart skidded to a stop, because nothing that ever started with that particular phrase ever ended very well.
“Marketing is the heart of any operation. You can have the best product at the perfect time and if you don’t know how to market it effectively, it will still be a failure. Great marketing can make a mediocre product a best seller. Poor marketing can put a great company out of business. So, no. I’ve never had any aspirations to something ‘greater.’ What I’m working with is already pretty great.”
I swallowed hard. Victoria had never lost that inviting smile on her face, though her shoulders had stiffened.
I waited for my father to say something in response. I didn’t except it to be favorable. If there was one thing he hated, it was to be spoken to the way he felt comfortable speaking to others. The man had a double standard that couldn’t be rivaled.
To my relief and surprise, he gave a little smile instead. “Well argued, my dear.”
And he didn’t look the littlest bit put out by her attitude.
I felt a sharp rap on my leg with one of her pointy-toed shoes, and I had the distinct impression she didn’t appreciate my initial physical contact, nor the suggestion that she should censor herself.
And I was pretty sure she didn’t appreciate being called dear.
The brunch trudged on, and when we’d finished the first course, Lena — complete in a maid costume — brought out scrambled eggs and french toast and laid it all before us, still steaming, with fresh fruit on the side, I was already ready to make our exit.
Things seemed to be going well. Surprisingly well. But I could almost hear the clock ticking that it couldn’t last. I knew we were running on borrowed time.
Lena was coming back with a teapot of hot water and a collection of black teas when I checked my watch and gave my initial, “Look at the time, Dad. We’re going to have to head out shortly here if Victoria and I want to get to our afternoon engagement on time.”
“Right, right. Badminton.”
I was just about to agree, watching the hot water pour out of the spout and into the bone china when Victoria spoke.
“Squash.” She leaned in close to my father and gave him an elaborate wink. “I think Mark has a thing for the sweatbands.”
I felt myself growing red — an unusual occurrence. But I’d almost muddled the whole story we’d crafted. All because I’d been watching that steam rise off of the water and obscure her lovely face.
But I was going to blame it on the fact that she’d suggested I had any kind of attraction to terry headwear, instead.
Although, I didn’t find the idea of her wearing some entirely unappealing.
I managed to drink half of the tea I’d been poured, but I was itching to go. Watching Victoria’s delicate sips of the hot liquid was in no way beneficial to my direction of thought.
I was officially reaching the end of my rope.
I stood up from my spot. “Dad, thank you so much for having us,” I said, and I could hear Victoria standing up as well, sliding the chair backward on the patio. “So glad you had the chance to meet Victoria and see for yourself that she’s all the amazing things I’ve been telling you she is.”
“Yes, yes. I am as well. I know I have a strict set of expectations in a partner for my only son.”
I almost choked on his words. I couldn’t think of anything less true. The only reason he was remotely interested in Victoria at all was because he was hoping he could somehow force me to forget all about her and return to thinking that Amy might be the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
Maybe, if Victoria hadn’t shown up in that board meeting. Maybe if things had worked out differently, I might have considered getting back together with Amy.
But there was something about Victoria that brought a stark relief at how totally ill-suited we were for each other — Amy and I.
I didn’t want to spend too much time thinking about the inverse of that train of thought. It wasn’t going to do my “business arrangement only” approach to life any favors.
She slipped her arm into mine as we moved across the polished floors, her head tipping in toward mine, and I felt myself leaning down toward her in return.
I knew we were the picture of a couple, our retreating backs to my father, and I knew she was tuned into every move we were making, aware he was watching us.
I couldn’t help myself. I let my arm slip out from under hers and slide around her waist, so my hand could move freely over the span of her back, settle on the curve of her hip.
Her step never faltered, though I thought I saw something flash in her blue eyes.
And I let my hand settle a little lower.
She made it all the way down the stairs and to the car without physically removing my hand from her body, so I was willing to mark that as a successful endeavor. In fact, she didn’t even seem to mind my touch.
I guided her into the car, her hand tucked neatly in mine, and as she situated herself in the leather bench seat she said, “I think that actually went quite well.”
I stepped around the car to slide in from the other side. “I agree. All things considered, it could have been much worse. Nice catch with the badminton.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Please. Do I look like the kind of girl who plays badminton?”
I couldn’t help but smile at her, even though I wasn’t sure what, exactly, a girl who played badminton might look like.
All of that pent up tension I’d been keeping was slipping out of me. From the time the car pulled out of the driveway, and with each passing moment as the monstrosity of a house fell further and further away from us, I could feel more of it dissipating. Like it was easier to breathe.
Victoria watched out the window with rapt attention, like she had never taken the time to see what the countryside in this part of New York looked like.
Whether she realized it or not, her hand had moved across the space that should have been empty between us, the tips of her fingers brushing against the knee of my suit.
I studied her profile as discreetly as I could, and wished the ride back into the city was longer. Wished it didn’t have to end with her stepping out of the car and leaving me behind.
Chapter 9
Victoria
I pulled the door closed behind me and stepped out of my shoes, leaning back against the cool wood. I’d love to blame the thee flights of steps for my breathlessness, for the hammering of my heart.
But I couldn’t.
Everything about the morning had been too much, too real.
All of those coy glances, the pressing of my body into his, that hyper awareness of the way we were together. It was all supposed to be pretend. Something that just looked real.
It wasn’t supposed to actually be happening for us.
But it was.
And in that quiet moment when the driver had pulled up to the curb and before he had opened the door for me, when Mark’s hand had landed on my thigh, his skin warm on mine where the skirt of my dress had ridden up, it felt like the whole world had stopped.
I thought he was a moment away from leaning in and kissing me, and every fiber of my being was humming with that promise.
And then Will had pulled the door open and the taut air between us was broken, and the spell was shattered and I was scrambling out of the car faster than I’d thought possible.
I sighed. If only I could go back and steal that kiss a moment earlier. I was dying to know what a real kiss, a no holds barred kiss with Mark Pierce would be like. His hands moving over my skin, his mouth against mine. Not the sweet kiss of last night on my stoop. Something with urgency and need and want.
I heaved
another sigh. Thinking about it was in no way going to help me. I leaned down and picked up my shoes, ready to head to my room and console myself with a long nap and bad reality television.
“Hey,” Cassie said, poking her head out of the shoebox we called a kitchen. “I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to make it back here.”
I froze in place. Just when I thought I was going to be able to make a break for it. It felt like nothing was going in my favor today.
Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and she was clasping a bottle of creamer, which meant she was probably working on her third pot of coffee for the day. Her heavy-rimmed glasses were rectangular and black, and made her eyes appear nearly twice their actual size. I know she played that up with a layer of mascara and her eyelash curler, and the overall look was like a cheerleading librarian.
I checked the time. We definitely had gone longer than I’d thought we would. “It is late,” I said out loud, because I had the distinct impression Cassie was waiting for me to say something. Then, clutching my abandoned heels, I took a tentative step toward my bedroom.
If I’d thought that was going to get me anywhere, Cassie was quick to set me straight. “Hold on right there,” she snapped, brandishing the coffee creamer like a weapon. “Where, exactly, do you think you’re going? I am expecting a full breakdown of everything that happened today. And yesterday.”
I could feel my shoulders slump. I wasn’t going to be able to escape this inquisition.
“It was fine. Good, even.”
“Good, even?” Cassie waggled her eyebrows suggestively, making her eyes seem even larger behind her glasses.
I made a choking sound. “Very funny, Cassie. The lunch was good. I met his father. I didn’t make any mistakes. I helped Mark narrowly avoid revealing we had fabricated our whole story. All in all, he seemed quite pleased with my performance.”
“Wonderful!” Cassie said, clapping her hands together. “So when is the next date?”
“Oh, Cass. There is no next date. The whole thing is strictly professional. There’s nothing date-like about any of it.”
I was saying the words, but I couldn’t help thinking about all of the exchanged looks and touches. All those things that shouldn’t have been real but somehow were.
Cassie pouted. She’d been trying to get me on the dating circuit for months. The queen of swiping left — and right — on her dating apps on her phone, she felt like there was no time better than the present to meet a man and have some fun.
She was about to be very disappointed that my life had no space for such fun activities.
“You know, this whole thing with Mark is just a business exchange. Nothing more. Nothing less. I practically had the no sex, no kissing clause inscribed on the whole deal.”
“Well. I’m not sure why you felt that was a good idea. He is hot. And in obvious demand.”
“Because,” I snapped, only to be interrupted by my phone chiming in my hand.
I looked down at my phone and saw his name flash on the screen.
He couldn’t even be across Midtown yet. He’d practically just left me.
Great job. The text read. Just got off the phone with Dad and he said he’d like to extend an invite to a family get-together tonight.
I couldn’t seem to decide if I was excited or irritated.
He beat me to the punch though, because before I could respond he was texting me again.
I know it’s outside of the agreed upon arrangement — but would you mind?
“What?” Cassie was demanding. I’d forgotten she was there with me in the room. God knew what was showing on my face just then.
“Nothing,” I mumbled.
“Oh, please. I do know you fairly well. You can’t lie to me and expect me not to know it’s happening.”
She had me there. “Mark was just texting me to ask if I was available for a thing tonight.”
“And you obviously are.” She was looking at me expectantly, daring me to say I wasn’t.
I was still considering when the chime went off again.
Tribeca.
And that was all I was going to get to go on. “I can’t, Cass,” I said, feeling entirely defeated. “He wants to meet in Tribeca. There’s no way I have time to pull together something to wear for that. I’ve tapped out my wardrobe between today and yesterday and none of it is fit for a night of seeing and being seen in Tribeca.”
Cassie was eyeing me like a science experiment. “I see,” was all she said.
But it was enough, because I knew she was thinking about all of those things I’d just said about not being interested in Mark and wanting to keep my relationship professional with him, while nearly in the same breath complaining I didn’t have the right clothes to wear.
She was right. I was a total, contradicting, hot mess.
“Well, let’s not get down about it. Maybe I have something in my closet we can make work.”
I squirmed under her gaze as she sized me up. If she had anything that fit me, it was going to be a miracle. She was all legs and practically six feet tall. I was barely pushing 5’5’’ and had significantly more curves.
“Okay,” I agreed dubiously. I was pretty sure this was going to be an epic failure, but if it would make her feel better before I turned him down, I suppose I could try it.
I told myself one more time it wasn’t because I actually wanted to go and see Mark as I followed Cassie into her bedroom.
Forty-five minutes later I was wearing what was going to have to work.
Mark had finally texted me that he was going to take my silence as a yes, and he would be back around at 5:45 — which meant I was running out of time.
The skirt was slinky and black, and it hit my knees, though I’d seen Cassie in it several times and it was a mid thigh, loose fitting thing on her. The open toed wedges she’d pulled out from the depths of her closet with an “I always knew these would come in handy,” mumble added inches and made me feel instantly sophisticated.
The gold sequined top with spaghetti straps was sexy without being provocative, and I was thinking this whole thing just might be doable when Cassie was tugging over her makeup caddy.
“I have been dying to see you in a smoky eye. Forever.” Cassie was saying dramatically, her makeup brush coming closer to my face. “Tip your head up.”
I did as she asked. I knew I had lost all control over the situation. Between Cassie and Mark, I didn’t have a single hope of ever doing what I wanted.
I relaxed the best I could and settled into the torture. I didn’t usually have the patience for this kind of makeup, but I wasn’t going to complain if someone else was doing it for me.
She brushed on layers of color, shading the outer corners and sweeping on eye liner and mascara. After blush and a sheer gloss, she was telling me my makeup was finished.
“Now, your hair,” she said, the gleam in her eyes letting me know everything had just begun.
“I have only fifteen minutes,” I said flatly.
“Oh, that’s all I need. What do you say to…carefree and beachy?”
I looked down at my very not beachy outfit. “I’m not sure…”
“You have to trust me. It will look fantastic. Like you’ve been on the go all day and just threw this on and showed up looking amazing.”
“Okay,” I agreed because I knew there would be no other acceptable answer.
Then she was tugging out my hair, pulling it down from its earlier up-do, pulling out it’s kinks and spritzing it with something promising “pieced” locks and “super” shine.
I could always wrangle it into a ponytail if this was a horrible failure, I promised myself.
In the end, I should have had more faith in Cassie. She knew her way around a closet and a makeup brush, and the same was true about hair. In a matter of minutes, she had my hair subdued into a style I couldn’t have recreated by myself even with hours of time.
She twisted me back and forth in front of the mirror,
insisting I look at myself from every angle. Not my most favorite activity, but I had to admit, I wasn’t finding too much to complain about right now.
In fact, I was dying to hear the intercom, and to know that Mark was downstairs waiting for me.
I didn’t have to wait very long.
“When do I get to meet this mysterious Mark?” Cassie was asking. “It doesn’t seem very fair that I only know what everyone else in the world knows about him when my best friend is practically sleeping with him.”
“No, no. I am definitely not practically doing that.”
She actually harrumphed at me, and I was thrilled when the intercom chimed that Will was downstairs.
Cassie pressed a little clutch into my hands and was shooing me out the door before I could change my mind about what I was wearing or how heavy my makeup was.
“Have a great night,” she said, pushing the door closed behind me. “If you don’t come home tonight, that’s alright with me. I won’t wait up for you.”
I heard the chain lock slip into place and I had the distinct impression I’d just been kicked out of my own apartment.
Cassie was going to be in for a rude awakening when I was banging on the door in the middle of the night demanding to be let back in.
I smoothed my skirt and made my way down the hall. If it was going to kill me, I was going to walk like a normal person, and not like a new fawn.
I was already second-guessing my shoe choice by the time I got down to the bottom of the stairs. Hopefully, wherever we were going, I wasn’t going to be running up and down stairs.
Will was on the other side of the door, and even thought I guess I should have been used to having him show up ready to cart me around, I definitely wasn’t.
“Hi, Will,” I said when he pulled open the door.
“Good evening,” he said in greeting, ushering me toward the car.
“You really don’t need to come and get me all the time. And Mark can always text if you’re down here. I’m perfectly happy to open my own door.”