Chapter4
Damien
“What the fuck took you so long, bro? Did you fall in the toilet?”
I arrive at the table that Jeffrey has been waiting at for the past twenty minutes or so, shaking but feeling victorious. “No, fucker. I never made it to the bathroom.”
“Then what the fuck have you been doing?”
I can’t help the curl of my lips, pleased with how Charlotte fell right into my lap and my plan. “I was finding myself a fake girlfriend.”
Jeffrey’s mouth drops open. “What? How?”
Taking my seat, I unbutton my jacket and take a deep breath, trying to get my heart rate back down. “Dude, it’s a long story, but fate was on my side.”
“Spill before the waiter comes back to take our order.”
So I do. I tell him about seeing Charlotte on Monday, about running into her Wednesday night at the new restaurant in town and then seeing her again just now with her parents.
“So her parents gave you the opening?”
“Basically. Her mom kept making comments about how she’s going to be single forever and shit. It was the perfect opportunity to get her mother to shut up and convince her to go along with my plan.”
“So she agreed?”
“Not exactly, but I’m going to call her later so we can meet up and go over the details.”
Jeffrey leans back in his chair, shaking his head and smiling in awe. “I can’t believe it. You really pulled this off.”
“Did you really doubt me?” I ask, reaching for my glass of water and draining half the liquid. Apparently lying through my teeth makes me thirsty.
“I mean, for a moment, yeah. I thought maybe you were going insane coming up with this idea. But now…well, hell, now I want to know how this all plays out.”
“I hate to lose, Jeffrey. And this is one instance where I can feel the win before the competition has ever begun.”
* * *
“Come on, Charlotte,” I mumble as I glance at my watch for the tenth time in the past minute. I’m sitting in a corner booth at Crank, a local bar known for its business-minded clientele. A bunch of us from the office frequent this place for happy hour, and it’s always full of men and women in suits, kicking their shoes off after a long day at the office and sitting back with a cold drink in hand.
I figured buying Charlotte a drink would help butter her up and convince her to go along with this charade, so I suggested meeting here when I texted her after our run-in at lunch. I’ve had her phone number for years when my mother gave it to me, suggesting I contact her and see how she was doing. But that was at least five years ago, so I was grateful that the number was correct and I wouldn’t have to ask my mom for her information again, inviting a ton of questions.
I know Charlotte already agreed to this by playing into the act I put on in front of her parents, but knowing her, I’m sure she’d love nothing more than to tell me to kiss her ass and leave me hanging now that she’s had time for reality to set in.
The funny thing is, I’d kiss her ass all day long. When the fuck did Charlotte turn into a sexy woman? Was she always attractive and I could just never look past the fact that she was my competition? Or did that voluptuous body, that I’ve already seen too much of, come out from hiding in the time we’ve been absent from each other’s lives?
Fifteen minutes past our arranged meeting time, the door opens and Charlotte steps through it wearing the same bright red dress from earlier that hits just below her knees and highlights her hourglass figure. Her hips swing from side to side as she walks in and then stops to search the room, looking for me in the sea of people. And even though I know I should alert her to my location, I take just another moment to admire her before things get intense.
Her long, dark brown hair is down in curls still, half of it pulled back away from her face. Her dress is sleeveless, highlighting her toned arms and perfectly sized chest. And she’s got on black shiny heels that her toes peek out of, making her seem taller than I know she really is and conjuring up inappropriate images of those heels wrapped around my back in my mind.
But her eyes—they’re piercing, analyzing the room, seeking me out just before she swings them in my direction and we lock gazes.
Fire and ice burn from her eyes as she narrows her gaze, takes a deep breath, and then stalks toward me, approaching me with such determination that a part of me wants to cower away.
But I’d die before I let her know that. Charlotte cannot know that she affects me, and secondly—why the fuck is that even happening in the first place? I’ve never backed down from her before.
But you’ve also never needed her help before.
Focus on the task, Damien. You just need her to play a part for your job. We know you both can act, so this should be easy.
Keyword and hope being—should.
I want to make a comment about how she’s late, but I’d better not poke the bear before I ask for my favor. “Charlotte,” I greet her as I stand and move to kiss her on the cheek. But she plants her palm in my face, stopping me before I reach her.
“There will be no more of that.”
“Let’s just put that on the list of things to discuss tonight, shall we?” I say, standing up again and then gesturing for her to slide into the other side of the booth.
“Oh, I think we have plenty to discuss.”
“Let’s get you a drink first.” I lift my hand to get the waitress’s attention and she comes over speedily. “My date would like a drink, please.”
“Of course. What can I get for you?”
“Martini, please. Three olives.”
“Coming right up.” She walks away, leaving us alone again.
“Martini, huh? I guess I always thought you’d be more of a wine drinker.” I spin my glass of beer around just to keep my hands busy as I try to ease into the topic of the evening.
“I like most alcohol, but I feel like gin is definitely going to help me get through this conversation the best.”
“Well, I appreciate you meeting with me.”
“Start talking, Damien,” she demands, crossing her arms over her chest. “Please tell me why you told my parents that we’re dating.” With a lift of her brow, I hear her tap her shoe on the floor beneath us.
Sighing, I lean forward and brace my forearms on the table. The waitress comes over with Charlotte’s drink, placing it in front of her, but she doesn’t even reach for it yet. She just continues to glare at me. “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”
“Why?”
“Because I kind of told my boss that I have one, and he didn’t believe me.” Sure, we’ll go with that for right now.
She scoffs and finally reaches for her drink. I watch the curl of her lips around the rim of her glass but fight the distraction as best as I can. “Well, that was stupid.”
“Hey, I’m not saying it was smart, but I’m up for a promotion, and having a girlfriend will help me get it.”
“Since when do you lie and cheat to win?” And then her eyes widen. “Oh my God! Is that how you beat me in high school? I always knew I was smarter than you in Calculus. The fact that you got better grades than me on those tests was bullshit.”
Smirking across the table at her, I cross my arms over my chest. “Sorry, babe, but I never had to cheat in school. I was just better at math than you were.”
She rolls her eyes. “Well, now I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to. This is completely different.”
“Really? Because to me, it feels the same.” She leans forward in her seat. “It’s been twelve years since we’ve seen each other, Damien, and all of a sudden I see you three times in one week.”
“Wait? Three?” My heart is pounding as I think of where we’ve run into each other. The only two times we’re both aware of are at the restaurants, the first with her friends, and the second with her parents. So does that mean that she knows about her massage?
“Yeah. I saw you on Monday at The Chop Shop, and I honestly thought at first I was seeing things. But then it kept happening, which makes me think you’ve been following me.”
“It was coincidental, I assure you.” Internally, I release the breath I was holding, but then realize that she must have seen me that day as well. “So is that why you ran away? So we wouldn’t have to speak to each other?”
“Contrary to what you might think and how you obviously operate, I have a job that I had to get back to, a job that I worked my ass off to get without lying to get it.”
“Hey, I take my job seriously too, hence why I cared enough to lie.”
“Why do you need a girlfriend though? I’m not following.”