I’d promised myself after the last relationship I wouldn’t let myself be led down a path of hurt and destruction. I would focus on my business, make a life for myself and be my own hero. I needed to remember that.
With that in mind, I opened my eyes and pushed myself up to stand in front of him. “Thanks that was lovely. Ready for soup?”
Aaron was still staring at me, but I chose to view it as a look of curiosity and nothing more. “Lovely,” he repeated.
“Yep. Lovely.”
I was on about to head to the kitchen when he grabbed my hand and pulled me down onto his lap. “It looked like you were finding it more than simply lovely.”
“Aaron, we’re the only ones here so there’s no need to fake flirt for me when there’s no audience.”
“Who says I’m faking it?” He ran a finger along my arm.
“Of course you are, silly. You know and I know that this is just an arrangement for our mutual benefit, nothing more.”
“It could be more.”
“No, it could not.”
“Why not?”
I stood up, exasperated. I was tired. I was hungry. And I was sick of playing games.
“Aaron, you never would have taken a second glance at me if this arrangement wasn’t happening. I’m not your type. Don’t let proximity fool you into thinking this’s more here than there is.”
He shook his head. “You don’t think there’s anything between us? At all? You think I’m just kidding myself that I like you?”
“No, I think you like me, just not in that way. Or rather, you’re attracted to me because I’m here and it seems opportune, but if circumstances were different, then you’d happily pass me by.”
“I think you are ridiculous.”
“See? Ridiculous is not the same as attraction.” He’d proved my point. I was about to turn my attention to turning on the soup on the stove top.
“You think I haven’t been attracted to plenty of ridiculous women in the past?” He shook his head and held up his hand as if to say stop. “Wait. That came out wrong.”
“No, it came out about right.” I flicked on the stove. “I’m going to put our soup in bowls and we’re going to eat dinner and then I’m going to sleep because I’m exhausted and I have a full day of work tomorrow and I can’t afford to start making mistakes at work now. This is all about my business, remember?”
“This isn’t the end of this,” he said. For a while, he just sat there, fuming. Then he got up, cleared off the table, and set it.
That was more like it. No touching, no flirting. Just two people amicably getting along.
I insisted Aaron have the bed because I was getting up early anyway.
“I’m not taking your bed, Piper.”
“It makes sense.”
“In what universe does it make sense? You have to work; you need the sleep. Plus, I’m a gentleman somewhere inside and that’s just not okay with me.”
“Well I’m not okay having a house guest sleep on the sofa.”
We were at an impasse. Both of us standing there, hands on hips, neither one budging an inch. “Let’s toss a coin then.” I suggested. It wasn’t a mature solution but it was a solution.
Luckily, I won. I was on the sofa, pillow under my head, when I heard him call out. “I like your bed. It smells like you do, like cinnamon.”
God, he was infuriating.
Chapter 8
Had it really been a week since that party in the penthouse? It felt like a lifetime, and this Saturday I got to go to supper with his mother. Aaron explained to her that I would be working until eight, so we agreed on supper. We also agreed that we would sleep at his place.
“I have a king bed that we can share. You’ll hardly know I’m there. And I promise to behave.” He held up his fingers. “Scouts’ honor.”
“Were you ever a scout?”
“Actually, I was.” He grinned. “I also did ballroom dancing lessons, but I’d rather not discuss that. In fact, take that secret to the grave.”
“Ouch, whose idea was that? Wait. Don’t tell me. Your mother.”
“Of course.”
We were in the kitchen working on some pies. Lucy was on a break and he was having a turn filling some peach ones.
“Can I ask you how your parents met? Cherie’s crazy Italian family doesn’t seem like it would have crossed paths with your mom’s side too often.”
“My dad was working for a stockbroker and he got coffee at the same place my mother went after tennis with her girlfriends. Her dorm was around the corner. He wooed her.”
“That’s sweet.”
“It could have been. Turns out, it wasn’t.”
“Hence, you don’t believe in love.”
“I believe in love for some people. I’m a pragmatist.”
“Yeah, well, please work a little faster, Mr. Pragmatist. I’ve got deadlines.”
“Yes, boss.”
I was running out of outfits. Cherie dropped by to lend me a couple that afternoon.
“You’re meeting Celeste, huh?”
“I’m officially meeting her. She already unofficially met me and made up her mind up that I’m not good enough for her son.”
“She’s okay deep down, Piper. I promise. Aaron is everything to her. She only wants what’s best for him; it’s a mother thing.”
“I wouldn’t know.”
That was the worst thing about coming from my family: it made me unsure of how to handle other people’s families. How did I know what a mother would do for her kids when, in my experience, the only answer was: not much. And my dad… Well, sure, he’d fed me and put a roof over my head, but he was hardly a model of love and enthusiasm. I knew he was proud of me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling it was only because I was his meal ticket. After all, he used to take half my pay when I was washing dishes under age and probably felt entitled to at least that now.
“Just be your regular, friendly self and you‘ll be fine.” Cherie handed me a much needed mug of coffee. “How are you and Aaron getting along?”
“Fine, actually. He’s a nice guy.”
“I know. He wants people at work to think he’s tough, and for people in our family to think he doesn’t need them, and everyone else to think he’s a regular Joe. But under all that, he’s a nice, normal guy from a slightly odd family. See? You two have so much in common.”
“Yeah, everything and nothing.”
Cherie looked at me quizzically. “You know all that stuff is bullshit, right? All the money and the snooty people. I mean, look at you, lady. You’re about to be worth a shitload of money and it isn’t changing you. Up at the ass-crack of dawn, working fifteen hour days…”
“Marrying for a visa.” I teased her.
“You know what I mean. Ignore the bullshit. He’s a nice guy. Focus on that.” She swigged her coffee. “I don’t suppose there’s any chemistry between you?”
I felt the color rise in my cheeks. “Maybe a little, but we’re not going there.”
“Why not? You’re going to be married for a year; don’t you want to have some fun?”
“You know me, Cherie. I’m not like that. I mean, yes, I could sleep with him and never see him again, no strings, but sleep with him and see him again all the time? It would mean things to me it won’t mean to him. Bad plan.”
“You’re right.” She nodded. “Absolutely right. Except, how do you know it wouldn’t mean anything to him?”
“He’s a guy.”
“Oh, yeah.” She placed her coffee cup in the sink. He might be her cousin but he was a guy first.
Enough said.
Tonight’s little dress was black and subtle. Cherie said it was influenced by a toga. At least it was one shouldered and draped so I didn’t have to suck in my tummy, which was nice. I had my hair pulled back in a loose ponytail with a few curls escaping. I was back in my silver heels with a silver clutch. If I was going to be married to Aaron, I was going to need to own more than two pairs of spark
ly shoes.
He and his mother were already in the bar. It had a sophisticated clubby feel, unlike myself. Aaron’s face lit up when he saw me and he was on his feet quickly. His mother feigned a smile. There were a few other people in the group which immediately put me on guard. I hadn’t expected to take on even more people tonight.
“You look beautiful,” Aaron whispered as he kissed my cheek an. “Sexiest woman here by far.”
“You look very dashing yourself.” I smiled at him and smoothed his lapel. Some things didn’t need to be faked. He did take my breath away.
His arm snaked around my waist as he walked me to the group. “Everyone, this is Piper. Piper, my Aunt Harriett, Uncle Ralph, and my cousin Constance, and her fiancé, Flip.”
“Nice to meet you all,” I said. More family.
“And, of course, you know Mom.”
I nodded at her with what I hoped was a friendly smile, but wasn’t rewarded with one in return. “Sit here by me.” Aaron waved his hand for Flip to move. “Champagne?”
Constance was seated to my left. “How lovely to meet you. Aaron rarely introduces us to anyone. I was beginning to think he never dates or is ashamed of us.”
“Don’t be silly, Constance,” his mother interjected.
His cousin rolled her eyes so I could see and patted my knee while Aaron handed me a glass of champagne. I was definitely in the safe corner.
“So when’s the wedding, Con?” Aaron asked.
That got the conversation off and rolling in the direction of Flip and Constance’s impending wedding in the Bahamas. She was clearly excited and it was lovely to see that. Flip just kept nodding and smiling as if he couldn’t believe his luck. True love, I thought.
“The invitations go out this week, Aaron. Look out for yours. And no excuses for not attending, okay?”
“Okay.” He smiled at her.
“And, of course, you should bring a date.” She was sweet but not subtle.
“Thanks Connie. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Aaron tells us you make pies,” Harriett said. She was a less frosty version of her sister. “It’s good to see a woman make something of herself.”
“Her business is going gang-busters,” Aaron said, proudly. “She works so hard, though.”
“I love your pies,” Flip said leaning in to top up his beer. “One of the trucks stops by my office sometimes. It’s like a hungry hoard down there.”
This wasn’t so bad. Only Aaron’s mother remained silent and aloof as the conversation wove from my work to Flip’s architecture firm to Aaron’s job.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear as he poured more champagne. “She’ll come around.”
I smiled at him as if I was saying something entirely different. “Or not.”
It was actually a pleasant evening. Every so often I even let myself relax and feel normal, not like a character playing a part in a story. Sometimes, when I looked at Aaron and he grinned at me or patted my arm, it felt natural to be here with him. A night out like a normal couple would have. Which, of course, was what we were going for.
When I got up to go to the ladies room, Constance offered to go with me.
“Aaron seems to really like you. How’d you meet?”
“Do you know Cherie, his cousin from the other side?” She gave me a nod. “I’m a friend of hers and she introduced us.”
“Very cool. I like Cherie. She’s fun.” Connie fluffed her hair in the mirror then reapplied her lipstick. “You’re not like Aaron’s usual girlfriends.”
I paused mid-lipsticking. “I ah…”
“You’re much nicer and much less, well, you’re more real. I think he was only in it for the sex with a few of them.” She covered her hand with her mouth. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate. I must have had more to drink than I thought.”
“It’s okay,” I finished with the lipstick. That sounded about right. It certainly summed up his most recent relationship with Ophelia. It made sense then that he would think we could have a string-free sexual relationship. Pity for him, I didn’t roll that way.
“The champagne and Aunt Clarice make me nervous. She’s so reserved these days. She wasn’t always like that. I know it’s hard to believe, but she used to be fun. She and Uncle Joe were so wrong for each other, but in some ways, they brought out the best in each other. He made her lighten up.”
“She’s had to deal with quite a lot.”
“Yeah, and she’s proud. It’s all been so humiliating. I don’t think she could stand another knock like that.”
And then I felt really bad. Here was a woman whose husband had lied and cheated and even stolen, and now, thanks to me, her son was about to tell her another big lie. My guilt must have shown on my face.
“Don’t worry. She’ll come around to you.”
That’s what everyone said, but if she knew what her son and I were planning to do, I very much doubted that.
So I did what I had to do. I stood up straight, gave my hair a flip and tried to look as alluring as I could, so that at least my future-mother-in-law and everyone else could see the physical attraction between us was real.
Chapter 9
“We can’t do this, Aaron. It’s off.”
“You’re breaking up with me?” Aaron dropped his hands from my arms. Poor guy, he’d thought he’d been about to get lucky since we were standing in his bedroom, but instead, I put an end to every fantasy he may have had.
I just wasn’t comfortable being that fantasy.
“Don’t be a smart ass, Aaron. We can’t keep this up. People will be hurt.”
“Who?”
“You’re mother, for one.”
We were facing off at the end of Aaron’s very large bed. His room smelled like pine and wood and books. It was understated opulence and masculinity. It was also exceedingly distracting.
“How will this hurt her?”
“Well, you’ll be lying to her in addition to committing a crime.”
“So?”
“So? Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“I heard and I don’t care. I want to marry you. I like you. I think you’re smart, and funny, and incredibly sexy. So where’s the crime? I would be genuinely sad if you got deported, sure, and I want to help you, but I’m also very happy to be marrying you. People who like each other way less than I like you have gotten married.”
“Yeah but… Wait… No… You’re trying to confuse me.”
“No, I’m not.” He was undoing his tie and throwing it across a chair. “Do you like me?”
“Of course I like you.”
“Do you want me to have what I want in life, say, a successful career?” He already sat on the chair and pulled off his shoes and socks and was unbuttoning his shirt sleeves.
“Sure, I do.”
“Are you embarrassed by me, ashamed of me or lying to me in any way that might be misleading me?” He was unbuttoning the shirt itself and I realized I had not yet seen his naked chest and I was preparing myself. I could tell it would be a thing of beauty. Not to mention, a distraction.
This, come to think of it, was probably exactly what he was counting on.
“Not at all.”
There it was, the perfect torso. Firm and chiseled. Not six-pack work-out-freak material, but nice and firm and God, I hoped I wasn’t drooling.
“So what’s the problem?”
“We don’t love each other,” I said.
“Like that’s a criteria for marriage. Love.” He almost snorted his derision.
“Well, here in this part of the world it kind of is.”
“Really? Do you think, for example, that Ophelia loves Rick?”
“Well, no. But that’s only one example.”
“One of millions. People marry for money. They marry for social standing. They marry to escape, or because they’re pregnant… People marry every day for loads of reasons that don’t have anything to do with love.”
“Unfortunately, the people at Immigrat
ion like you to marry for love.” I took a breath. “And do not remove those pants, buddy.”
“Why not? Too distracting? Don’t worry; I’m not commando under here.”
“Look.” I took a deep breath and expunged the commando thoughts. “All I’m saying is that people expect us to be marrying because we love each other.”
“Well, people can expect whatever the hell they like, Piper. Do people regularly do what you expect them to do? My experience in life is that people constantly surprise me. For example, right now I’m surprised you want to back out on me because you think my mother will be hurt. She hasn’t exactly bent over backwards to welcome you.” He peeled down his pants and revealed soft gray boxers.
“That may be, but she’s your mother, and just because she’s an ice-queen, doesn’t mean she doesn’t have your best interests at heart. I don’t want to come between you two.”
“And that is exactly why I want to marry you.” He walked around the bed and put a hand on my shoulders. “You’re not selfish and you’re not mean. You’re in a situation where years of your hard work are under threat and still you’re thinking about others. You’re a good person and so am I, believe it or not. So we’re going to get married and live happily ever after or for as long as it’s expedient for both of us.”
“You think they can work that expedient bit into the vows?” I teased.
“I’ll talk to the celebrant.”
“You’re a prince.”
“Are you coming to bed?”
I wasn’t really looking forward to having Aaron half-naked and in close proximity—well, since I wasn’t planning on enjoying the view—but that given his mother was down the hall, I couldn’t really avoid it. The view, that is.
I went into the bathroom and changed into a t-shirt and some leggings, covering up as much as he wasn’t. When I came out, he was lying in wait—well, he was lying in bed, arms behind his head, that magnificent chest bared, goofy grin on his face. The blankets were flicked back on my side in invitation. He was right: - the bed was large enough that, with a bit of luck and some strategically placed pillows, he’d stay safely on his side. I started to erect a nice pillow barrier between us.
Any Way You Slice It: An Upper Crust Novella (Upper Crust Series Book 1) Page 5