Lawyers? NDA? What was going on here? “I don’t understand.”
“OK, big picture, I’d like you to pretend to be my girlfriend for the month.”
“Pretend to be your girlfriend for the month?” Was he joking with me? I looked around. Was someone filming us, like on a reality show?
“Yes, one month. We’ll fake having a whirlwind romance. Ice skating at Rockefeller Center, candlelight dinners, you name it. It’ll all be fake, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still have some fun on the side.” He smiled at me. I didn’t smile back.
He continued. “Anyway, I’ll propose to you on New Year’s Eve at my big show in Vegas. And then one month from now, around the middle of January, you’ll break up with me. The average girl, breaking my heart in front of a bunch of cameras. It’ll be huge.”
I stood up. Had he just told me he was going to propose to me on New Year’s Eve? As in ask me to marry him? And then I’d break up with him? Maybe he was insane, completely unhinged. Maybe I’d missed all the signs, too awestruck by his good looks and star status.
“I probably should have had you sign the NDA first. I can tell you’re surprised.” He exhaled, his hand up to his brow once again.
“I don’t even know what an NDA is.”
“A non-disclosure agreement, standard stuff. You agree you won’t discuss this with anyone, no tell-all interviews, books, etc.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Ash?”
“Listen, I probably should have brought this up earlier. But you know this thing with Mandy Monroe?” I nodded, listening with one foot proverbially out the door. “It’s made me look real bad and I need to clean up my image. Make people think I’m not an asshole.”
“So, you want to date me?”
“Just pretend to date you,” he clarified. “You’re perfect. I can’t even believe I ran into you. You’re so sweet and average, a piano-teacher and a librarian.”
Oh. My. God. I was such an idiot. Here, I’d actually thought Ash Black liked me. That he’d met me and somehow been swept away by little old average me. But he only wanted me to play pretend with him, to clean up his image.
“I’ve got to go.” Powered by humiliation, I pushed past him and looked for my coat. Where had he put it when we came in? I’d been too amazed by the view, too blinded by everything around me to see what was actually happening.
“No, don’t go, please.” He got in front of me, both hands up at my shoulders. “You don’t like this idea?”
“No! It’s insane.”
“Where do you want to go, Ana? Cabo? Bali? I’ll take you. You want to go sky diving? We’ll do it. I’ll make it fun for you, I promise. Give you gifts, jewelry, whatever you want.”
“Ash.” I shook my head. This was all ridiculous. I couldn’t believe I’d actually thought he’d liked me. And I’d just let him finger-fuck me on his couch.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, bewildered. He really had no idea why I’d have any reservations. He’d been so sure of himself.
“I thought you liked me.” My voice came out like a whisper and I hated the way it sounded, all young and vulnerable and pathetic. But it was true. It was how I felt.
“I do! I like you, I do.” His empty words rolled down and away like marbles. Like hell, he did.
“Because I’m so wonderfully average.” I would have liked to have sounded light and amused, as if this were a hilarious story I couldn’t wait to tell my roommates. But this one I might not relish sharing, the day I’d met a rock star and been stupid enough to think he actually liked me. Then he’d fingered me until I came and told me I was so average I was perfect to hire as his fake girlfriend to improve his image. Awesome.
“Ana, you’re perfect.”
I looked at him, now knowing my skepticism, my doubts, my ‘this can’t be happening’ feelings should have been what I’d trusted.
“I’m sorry this all came out wrong.” He fumbled for words. “I’d honestly love to hang out with you for the month. And I really need you. I’m desperate.”
I’d desperately needed him, about five minutes ago on the couch when I’d practically humped his hand. How many times would I make a fool out of myself if I allowed myself to spend anymore time with him?
“No sex,” he offered, seeming to read my mind. “We’ll put it in a clause. No sex, no touching even if you don’t want to.”
“I can’t, Ash. I’m sorry.” Why was I apologizing to him? He’d wanted to use me to improve his image, stage something fake to make him look like less of an asshole. What an asshole.
There was my coat, draped over a chair by the door. I bee-lined to it and put it on.
“Wait,” he called after me as I reached for the doorknob. “I have an idea.”
I turned toward him, giving him a moment. I shouldn’t have. I should have kept on walking, but I was too damn polite.
“Didn’t you say something about the library you work in shutting down? How you’re out of money?”
I nodded. “We’ll find out in January. They don’t have enough money to keep all the branches open.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“What?”
“I’ll pay to keep it open. Set up a fund to cover all operating expenses for the next ten years.”
Really? He’d keep the library open? “It’s a lot of money. I don’t even know how much, but it’s a lot.”
He looked at me and I realized he could do it. It wouldn’t even put a dent in his wealth, would it? Holy shit. “Really?”
“Really.” He stood before me, looking dead earnest. “I’ll put it in writing, get everything put in place.”
I thought about it. One month of pretending for years of that library branch staying open. How many years had he promised? “How about twenty?”
“What’s that?”
“You said ten years of operating expenses. I’ll do it for twenty.”
“Done.” He struck out his hand for a shake. I should have asked for thirty.
“And no sex?”
“No sex.” He put his hands up, signaling no contest. Those hands that did such wickedly good work. Could I really be considering this?
“I promise, I’ll make sure you have a good time,” he pleaded with me. “You’ll be backstage at all my shows. We’ll put you up in the best hotels. Who do you want to meet? Anyone famous? I can introduce you.”
You, I thought but didn’t say. He’d been my celebrity crush for who knew how long.
“Please, Ana.” He looked deep into my eyes, his voic
e husky as he added, “I need you.”
Inwardly, I melted. I didn’t stand a chance against this guy. Outwardly, I thought I maintained my composure. All business. “All right.” I stuck out my hand for a deal-sealing shake.
“All right?” His face lit up with delight and even the brief touch of his hand to mine sent a single down my spine.
“OK then.” I quickly took my hand away.
“I’ll have my lawyer send you all the paperwork tonight. You’ll need to sign it ASAP.”
“All right.”
“And tomorrow my family has a huge holiday party. You’ll have to come.”
“OK.” I felt numb, wrapped in cotton. This wasn’t actually happening. I wasn’t actually agreeing to be the pretend girlfriend to rock legend Ash Black, starting tomorrow? Cabo, Bali, jewels, what had he promised me again?
“Thank you. You’ve made me very happy. I’m a lucky man.” He kissed my hand, giving me that panty-melting intense look again as he drew up to his full height and bid me goodnight.
I looked up at him, his dark inviting eyes, his mouth-watering lips. Even though I knew it was all fake, he only liked me because I was so boring and average I’d somehow sell him back to the public’s good graces, I still felt a pull. And I’d just agreed to put myself in close quarters with him for the next month. We’d have to go places together, flirt, hold hands, maybe even kiss for the cameras. A whole month of being so close to those fingers I now knew for certain could bring me nearly mind-shattering bliss.
Uh oh.
“I’m going to enjoy this month very much, Anika.”
“OK then.” I opened the door and walked out into the hallway.
“Good night,” he called after me. I gave him a feeble wave and walked toward the elevator, but it wasn’t until I stepped inside and headed down that I started to breathe again. You couldn’t hold your breath forever.
How was I going to make it through an entire month? What trouble had I gotten myself into now? I had to focus, remember why I was doing it. Even if all I could think about there in the elevator was how I’d felt with his fingers stroking me, coaxing me, making me forget everything but him.
7