by Ellie Danes
Her eyes were huge as she stared at the ring in amazement. “Where the hell did you get that?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been holding onto it for a while, for a friend. I’m not letting you keep it--just to be clear.”
Ashley snorted at that, but stared at the ring for a moment longer.
“That would probably shut them up,” she admitted. “I mean--this isn’t the kind of thing most people would plan, is it?”
I laughed. “If they think that me proposing to you is part of the plan, then they’re over-thinking their entire lives,” I told her. Especially since you’re going to be genuinely surprised, since you’re not going to know when it will happen. I put the key in my suit pocket and looked at Ashley significantly. “Now, let’s get in there so we can show your stupid former classmates that you’re a hundred times better than them.”
The dance looked just as over-decorated as any prom could ever have been, and was only redeemed by the fact that they were serving alcohol openly instead of in secret. The DJ was in the middle of a set of early 2000s hits, and as Ashley and I worked the room, saying hi to everyone and taking pictures like we were supposed to, I caught more than a few surprised looks turned her way.
“Some of these guys are definitely wishing you’d come alone,” I told her quietly, as we headed out to the dance floor.
“I think I saw Manda staring daggers at me,” Ashley said, smiling.
Ever since I’d proposed proposing to her, she’d been in a much better mood. I knew she was waiting for me to spring my big surprise, but I fully intended on making it a surprise for her, too. I wanted her reaction to be as genuine as possible.
So we danced, and we took breaks to drink spiked punch and eat cocktail food, and talk to people. More than one person came by to marvel at how good Ashley looked, and how cute we were together, and I wondered if Manda and Gwyn had kept their thoughts about me being hired to themselves, or if they’d been spreading the idea around. Would be just like a couple of Stepford Wives like them, I thought.
“You’re a surprisingly good dancer,” Ashley murmured.
“Survival skill,” I said.
“How so?” Her mouth quirked up with interest.
“I got dragged to a lot of charity events, starting when I was a teenager.”
“Charity events. Sounds fancy.” She sighed. “You know, nobody’s paying attention. You don’t have to pretend to be a millionaire anymore.”
“Billionaire, actually.” My hands felt shaky with nerves.
“Oh, right.” She gave an airy laugh. “With all those restaurants, it would have to be billions.”
“I’m—I’m not kidding, Ashley.”
She stopped dancing and looked up at me as we stood in the middle of the floor. Several couples continued to sway around us.
“What do you—do you mean…”
“It’s Weston, not Stone,” a loud voice said.
I looked up to see Derek taking a photo of me and Ashley. “Back off, man,” I snarled.
“Weston Nolan.” He grinned. “It took me long enough to figure it out.”
Ashley wrinkled her nose. “Is he for real?” she asked me.
“You wouldn’t have heard of me,” I told her, shooting a dirty look to Derek. “I’m more popular in the restaurant world.”
“Can’t wait to tell everyone about this,” Derek exclaimed, rushing off with his phone up, as if a grainy shot on a dark dance floor was suddenly proof of my celebrity.
“It’s why I didn’t want to say anything,” I said. “People treat me differently once they know. I’ve been burned by a few women, too. Which isn’t fair to you, I know. You wouldn’t necessarily treat me differently. But I didn’t want to risk losing this weekend with you by coming clean right away.”
She shook her head in wonder. “Why were you trying to tell me just now? When it’s all going to be over soon?”
“I just didn’t want there to be any lies between us,” I said. “No more half-truths, nothing else concealed. We started out like that, but that’s not how I want us to end.”
“I don’t want us to end that way, either,” she said.
I didn’t want us to end at all. But I kept those words inside and continued to dance, playing the part of the perfect boyfriend—a part I hoped she’d allow me to keep long after this stupid reunion was over.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t completely honest. I wanted to find out about my birth parents, and I didn’t know how much to tell you.”
“It’s okay,” she said, settling once more into my arms and beginning to sway with me. “Let’s just dance.”
She completely amazed me. She didn’t pepper me with questions about how much money I had, she didn’t ask for details on my vacation homes, or where I lived in the city, or exactly how many restaurants I owned.
“You don’t want to know more about my business life?” I asked her.
“I know you,” she said with a sad smile. “That’s enough, isn’t it?”
Pulling her closer, I kissed the top of her head. This woman was perfect for me. I had to tell her that.
I waited until she had probably almost forgotten about the idea I’d had--or at least until she’d probably concluded I wasn’t going to do it. And then I waited a little while longer. When she went over to talk to her friend Jess, I started toward the DJ booth.
Derek and a couple of his buddies stopped me to talk. I shook hands and re-introduced myself, noticing some appraising glances from two women off to the side. Manda and Gwyn. I gave them a jaunty wave, even though I was seething inside that they’d said mean things about Ashley.
Excusing myself from the others, I went up to the DJ.
“Hey, man. I need you to do me a solid,” I said. I’d brought my wallet with me, and I took out a hundred and handed it to him.
“Anything you want,” the DJ said. He grinned, his teeth too white in his face, and I thought about the best way to do what I wanted to do--the best way to get the full effect.
“I’m going to propose to my girl tonight,” I explained. “I want you to play ‘Umbrella’ by Rihanna, and then I’m going to come up, and just play along with me--okay?”
“For a hundred, you can pick the rest of the songs in the set,” the DJ said, grinning again. “I’ll give you a cue just to be sure you’re ready for it. I’ll play ‘Don’t Stop the Music’ before I do ‘Umbrella’--you know it?”
I nodded. “That’ll be perfect.” I shook his hand and ducked out of his booth before Ashley came out looking for me.
I led her out onto the dance floor and when she wasn’t looking I caught the DJ’s eye and gave him a nod to let him know I was ready when he was. Ashley started to get tired, but I realized that just about everyone at the reunion had made their way onto the dance floor, and I wasn’t about to let her leave the center of the room when she was about to get the nail to hammer into her enemies’ coffins.
“Let’s just do a couple more songs, okay?”
“Okay, but you have no idea how much these shoes are hurting my feet,” she said.
I made sure to dance up close to her, in spite of the fact that it made me remember what it was like to be with her in bed--a little too much, maybe. When I heard the first Rihanna song, my heart started beating faster. I’m almost as nervous as I would be if I was really about to propose to the woman I loved, I thought. It was a crazy idea, and I almost laughed at my own stupidity.
Then the first couple of notes of ‘Umbrella’ came on, and I took my cue. Ashley almost screamed in delight at the song--as I knew she would--and I broke away from her.
“No. No--fuck this,” I said, shaking my head. “This is all wrong.”
“What?” Ashley looked at me in shock and I turned away from her, going to the DJ booth up and off to the side of the stage. I leaned in and in the corner of my eye I could see everyone else start to get shocked at what I was doing. Perfect.
“Give me the mic,” I said.
The DJ shrugged and h
anded it to me.
“Keep the song going for another verse and chorus, okay?” I asked.
He nodded and shook his head at my madness.
I started singing along with the track, about her always having my heart and how we wouldn’t be separated. Fortunately, the mic was cordless. I hopped down off the stage and made my way to Ashley again, with her classmates making way for me. I didn’t have the best singing voice, but that didn’t matter as I worked through the crowd. I stopped in front of Ashley, getting to the end of the verse and then into the chorus, and then dropped down on my knee as the DJ cut the music out.
Ashley was standing there, looking absolutely stunned--just like I wanted.
“Ashley baby, will you marry me?” I took the ring out of my pocket and held it up so that the people directly around us could see it.
“Yes--yes, of course I’ll marry you, you crazy fool,” Ashley said, starting to cry as I turned off the mic and put it down to put the ring on her finger.
The room erupted in cheers, and I stood up to kiss her, just like something out of a fairytale. I led her back with me to the DJ booth as he cheered us along with everyone else, and I gave him his microphone back.
He turned on the mic. “Everyone, let’s make some room for these two to have a special dance to celebrate their love!”
The people on the floor made some room for us. He re-started the Rihanna song, and I led Ashley back out onto the dance floor. We danced to the beat, and I mentally patted myself on the back for making it happen even better than Ashley could have ever expected.
As we danced through the song, it hit me--I’d been nervous to propose to her, even falsely, because I actually liked her. I liked her a lot, and after all we’d been through this weekend, I wouldn’t be surprised if I loved her.
When the song ended and we had a chance to get off the dance floor, I put my lips to her ear. “Can we go somewhere and talk for a minute?”
Ashley looked at me and then nodded.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ashley
By the time Weston and I found a little alcove, down the hall a bit from the ballroom, I had no interest in talking to him. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him eagerly, pressing my body against his. I had seen the faces of the people at the dance with us, and I didn’t think even one of them suspected that Weston’s trick was a fake. They’d seen how shocked I was by the whole thing.
“Thank you. Thank you so much for everything,” I murmured against his lips. Weston had done better than I ever could have imagined, in every way--from being the perfect fake boyfriend, covering for my gaffes, and now the proposal that had, I was sure, convinced everyone at the dance with the exception of Jess, who knew the truth, that I had a man who loved me.
“There they are,” a female voice said.
I looked up from Weston’s arms and saw Manda and Gwyn approaching. “Ugh,” I muttered.
Weston and I turned to face them.
“We just wanted to say congratulations on the engagement!” Gwyn said in a bubbly voice.
“Yeah,” Manda added. “I’m so happy for you two. When’s the wedding?”
“Oh,” I said, looking to Weston. “We haven’t had a chance to talk—”
“As soon as possible,” Weston said, grinning.
“Great,” Manda said. “Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, but I plan special events, and a high-profile wedding like yours is bound to be, well.” She gave me a simpering smile. “I’m sure you’d want the best planner around, and that’s me. And since we go way back…keep me in mind, will you?”
I stared at her, speechless. This was the woman who had delighted in tormenting me from high school up until a few minutes ago.
She leaned forward and yanked me into a hug. “I knew you’d agree! It’ll be so much fun to work together on this!”
“Wait,” I said, stepping back. “I haven’t agreed to anything.”
She frowned, her perfect orange-red lipstick crinkling on her lips. “Well, my business is the logical solution.”
“You haven’t been kind to me,” I stated in a calm voice.
“Well, I—we’ve been joking around with each other all weekend,” she said.
“No, we haven’t. If that’s what friendship is to you—talking behind peoples’ backs, dredging up painful memories to make them uncomfortable on purpose—then I don’t want to be your friend.”
She stepped back, looking affronted. “I—Gwyn, this is just ridiculous, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, it is,” Gwyn said absently. She was giving me a thoughtful, appraising look, and I saw something in her change, like she was thinking maybe I had the right measure of Manda.
“Let’s go,” Manda said, reaching for Gwyn’s arm.
“Just a second,” Gwyn said, yanking her arm back.
Manda stomped off. “Have it your way,” she called over her shoulder.
Gwyn just gave me a brief smile and said, “Really. Congratulations, you two. I can tell you’re going to be very happy together.”
“Thank you,” Weston and I said together, then smiled at each other.
Gwyn left, and I kissed Weston again. Our tongues tangled together and we reached for each other. Ever since the night before, I’d been thinking about how good it had been with him, and how much I wanted more. I knew it was stupid, but I wasn’t ready to go back to a celibate life just yet, not when I’d only just learned what it was really like to have real orgasms.
“Now that you know what you were missing, you’re turning into a little sex-addict,” Weston murmured, as we got hotter and heavier.
I giggled and cuddled up closer to him, letting my hand stray downward between us.
“It’s a prom re-enactment, right? Someone should be fooling around in a closet somewhere,” I pointed out. I felt tipsy, but not on the punch we’d had through the evening. No, I was drunk on relief and happiness and giddiness at everything. I rubbed him lightly through his pants and Weston moaned against my mouth, his hips starting to move in reaction. He pulled at my dress in the front, getting it up enough to be able to reach under the hem, and before too long we were fooling around seriously, getting truly hot and heavy with each other and trying to get each other more and more turned on without taking off our clothes.
“God, I can’t wait to get you alone,” he murmured. “Come on--let’s ditch the dance and just go back to the room.”
I shook my head and unzipped his fly, reaching in to find he had nothing underneath his pants. Perfect. I started stroking his hot, hard cock, and he found a way to get my panties off of me to start rubbing me too, and I could feel myself getting tight, getting wetter and wetter, more and more turned on.
But I also knew that things were going to end soon. We didn’t have anything in common, and we lived in different places--there was no way we were going to keep in touch after this. Even as we kissed, my heart felt as if it were breaking.
Abruptly, I pulled away from him. “You’re right, we should get back to the room before we’re arrested for indecent exposure.”
He laughed, kissed me once more, then fastened his pants.
“What’s wrong, beautiful?” Weston asked as we walked back to our room.
“It’s just that it hit me all at once that this was fake, and now that the roads and airport are clear, there’s nothing else. It’s over.” My voice caught and I turned away, trying not to cry. I continued, “I know it was fake, but it’s been the best relationship I’ve had, and I guess I’m just down about going back to my single life.”
Without a word, he turned me around and pulled me into his arms and kissed me. I could feel the need in his body, almost radiating out of him. “Look, I actually like you. I like you a lot, Ash.”
“You do?”
“Of course I do, you idiot,” he said with a laugh. “You’re gorgeous and smart and if you ever decide to go into crime, you could run a multinational syndicate without breaking a sweat--you have that much nerve.”
>
“I don’t know about that,” I countered.
“You could,” he insisted. “On top of that, I can’t believe that there isn’t a single guy in your life who hasn’t taken the time to make you come. God--do you know how great you are when you’re turned on? Do you have any idea how big of a thrill it is to feel you shaking because you’re all sexed up and feeling so good you can’t stand it?”
We continued walking and reached our room. We were both quiet as we stepped inside and looked around.
Weston slowly unzipped my dress. “Making you come is like...like winning a prize,” he said. His hands started moving over my body. “If you don’t want to go back to being single, don’t. We could see if there’s something between us. Something real.”
Before I could respond, he kissed me again. He managed to get my dress off, and without words, I started stripping him, distracted for the moment by what was going on between us.
He bent down and worshipped my breasts with his mouth, stroking and rubbing. We pawed at each other like animals, getting more and more worked up, and before too long, I was moaning, writhing underneath him as he fingered me hard and fast.
He got me to the edge in record time, and then I pushed his hand away. “I want to get you off.”
He let me do what I wanted, lying back on the bed as I worked my way down from his mouth to his cock, taking my sweet time until I was sure he was aching.
“You feel amazing, that mouth of yours on my cock,” he said in a growling voice.
I sucked and licked and moaned around his cock, getting more turned on by getting him closer and closer to orgasm.
Before he could get there, he pulled my face up to his and kissed me.
“I think we should both enjoy it, this time,” he said.
It took me a moment to realize what he meant, but as soon as I figured it out, I straddled him and lowered myself onto his cock, feeling the fullness only he gave me. He wanted to try something real, he’d said. My heart felt light and joyful, because that was what I wanted, too.
We moved together like we’d been made for each other, and the tension mounted in my body. I started shaking, and Weston looked tense. We were both holding back.