Authors: Locklyn Marx
“How much are you paying her?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said.
“Chad, how --- oh, hold on.” He heard Jay conversing with someone in the background. “Alyssa wants to know what this girl looks like.”
“Kenley?”
“Yeah.”
Chad thought about it. Her long blonde hair. Her blue eyes. The way her nose crinkled up when she didn’t agree with something he was saying. Her soft skin, how nice she felt against him, how he loved pulling her close, how small she felt even though she was curvy and pretty and sexy all at once. “She’s pretty,” Chad said.
“And?” Jay asked suspiciously.
“And what? She’s pretty, she has long blonde hair.”
“Oh my God,” Jay said. “You love her!”
“What?”
“You love her! All those questions about how did I know that Alyssa was the one, and now you won’t even tell me what this girl looks like!”
“I told you what she looks like!”
“She has blonde hair?” Jay scoffed. “Come on. No hint of her breast size? No discussion of how she looks in a bikini or what you want to do to her sexually?”
“Jay,” Chad said, as if he was talking to a child, “I wasn’t going to say those things when your fiancé asked what she looked like. That’s disrespectful.”
“That’s bullshit,” Jay said. “Alyssa doesn’t care and you know it.”
“I have to go.”
“Tell me what she looks like!”
“I have to go.” He hung up the phone and looked out the window, watching Manhattan sliding by until it turned into Brooklyn. His phone buzzed in his lap, and he looked down, expecting a text from Jay, giving him more shit. He picked it up, ready to give in, to make sure that he described her this time, giving all the disgusting details he usually did. But it wasn’t Jay. It was Kenley.
“Flight arrives at 3:15,” the text said “See you then.”
That was all. No ‘looking forward to it’ or ‘can’t wait to see you’ or ‘what do you want to do tonight.’
Who cares? Chad told himself. It’s just business. That conversation with Jay had left him rattled. It didn’t mean anything that he wouldn’t describe Kenley, just that she meant nothing to him. This was an arrangement, pure and simple. He scrolled through his phone, looking at the numbers of women he’d amassed over the years. Some of the names he didn’t even recognize.
In a couple of days, when this whole thing was over, he would call one of them, celebrate his new deal with a bang. No pun intended. Satisfied, he leaned back against the seat and enjoyed the rest of the ride to Brooklyn.
***
“You’re going to do
what?”
Melissa screeched. She was sitting on Kenley’s bed while Kenley rummaged around in the closet.
“I’m going to be his fake girlfriend,” Kenley said. She’d taken a flight this morning from Florida to Connecticut so that she could check on her apartment and pack some things for New York. Later this afternoon, she’d fly from New Haven to LaGuardia to meet Chad.
She surveyed her clothes, running her eyes across the comfortable sweaters and soft denim. What did one wear when they were pretending to be the girlfriend of a famous baseball player? Something told her that her GAP and Old Navy heavy wardrobe wasn’t going to cut it.
“And he’s paying you?” Melissa asked.
“Yes.”
Melissa cocked her head and pulled one of her long dark curls down and wound it around her finger. “No offense, but why does he have to pay for it?”
Kenley pulled out her suitcase and set it on the bed. She’d been in such a rush to leave Connecticut for Florida that she hadn’t taken the time to really pack much of her stuff. The weather in Connecticut was cold, and in Florida it wasn’t, so she’d just bought a bunch of cheap bathing suits and stuff when she’d gotten down there. Looking back, she had probably been in a little bit of denial, spending a bunch of money on new summer clothes she didn’t need when she’d just lost her job. Oh, well. Money wasn’t going to be a problem soon, har har har.
“I told you, there are pictures of me and him together,” Kenley said. “So he had to pretend that I was his girlfriend.”
“Why were there pictures of you guys together?” Melissa leaned back against the pillows on Kenley’s bed and took a sip of the Starbucks pumpkin spice latte in her hand.
“I’m sorry, it’s early, and I’m having trouble processing this.”
“Because I was coming out of his hotel room, and some little jerk asshole who worked there took a picture of us.” She held up a black dress she’d gotten for fifteen dollars at TJ Maxx, but was DKNY. “Do you think I can wear this in New York?”
Melissa raised her eyebrows incredulously, but Kenley put the dress in her suitcase anyway. She had no choice -- it was one of the only things she had that was even close to being appropriate.
“So how much is he paying you?”
“I can’t really say.” Kenley moved over to the dresser and rummaged around in her underwear drawer, picking up a handful and stuffing it into her suitcase. Her underwear, at least, didn’t matter, since no one would be seeing it. And if Chad thought he was going to, he had another thing coming. This wasn’t going to be like some kind of Indecent Proposal situation. Yes, she was pretending to be his girlfriend, but that definitely did not include sex.
“You can’t really say?” Melissa screeched. She set her coffee down on Kenley’s nightstand and crossed the room toward her. “You call me up, demanding I come to your apartment immediately, which I do, stopping to bring you coffee on the way over I might add, and you won’t even tell me the details?”
“I shouldn’t have even told you as much as I did,” Kenley said, moving past her and into the bathroom. Most of her toiletries had already been packed for her trip to Florida, but she wanted to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. She was going to need all the help she could get if she was going to pull this off.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Melissa asked, following Kenley into the bathroom. “You think I have a big mouth?”
“I didn’t say that.” The truth was, of course, that Melissa
did
kind of have a big mouth, and that Chad had sworn Kenley to secrecy, had forbidden her from telling anyone. But what was she supposed to do? She had to tell
someone.
And although it was true that Melissa was a gossip, when it came to the really important things, Kenley knew her sister could keep her mouth shut. At least, she was hoping she could.
“So then how much?”
“A lot.”
“Fifty grand?” Kenley didn’t say anything, and Melissa’s eyes widened.
“More?”
“Are you going to be able to drive me to the airport in a little while?” Kenley asked. “My flight leaves in an hour.”
“Yeah, sure, no problem.” Melissa never worried about things like work schedules or whether or not her boss would just let her take off in the middle of the day.
She just did, and somehow, it worked.
“More than fifty thousand dollars,” Melissa muttered as she headed back toward Kenley’s room. “God, some people have all the luck.”
***
The flight to New York was short and smooth, with no turbulence and a relatively enjoyable in-flight movie, but Kenley’s stomach was flipping so much that she couldn’t relax. She tried to read a book, but the words kept dancing on the page. She tried to eat a bag of pretzels, but she didn’t have any appetite. Finally, she just sat there, sipping her water and taking deep breaths, checking her watch every minute to see if they were there yet.
When they finally touched down, she was one of the first off the plane. She looked around the airport, realizing she had no idea where she was supposed to meet Chad. Was it even Chad she was supposed to meet? Maybe he’d sent some kind of driver or assistant to pick her up. He probably figured that since she wasn’t a real girlfriend, she didn’t warrant a trip to the airport.
She glanced around the baggage claim area, but she didn’t see him, so she collected her bags. She had just decided to text him when she spotted him. He was walking through the terminal toward her. Her breath caught in her chest. She’d forgotten how sexy he was.
He had on a pair of expensive-looking jeans that were just baggy enough to be cool but not baggy enough to be ridiculous. A soft-looking black leather jacket was thrown over his white t-shirt. He had his phone out, and he was texting someone. Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she rummaged around, looking for it. One next text.
From Chad.
Stop staring at me.
She groaned, shoved her phone into her bag, and looked up, meeting his eye. He grinned, but she glared at him. God, he was so arrogant. It was enough to ruin his looks.
Well. Almost.
***
They took one of the team cars back to his apartment, which, Kenley had to admit, was a really nice perk. No waiting in line for cabs, no worrying that the cabbie was going to rip you off, no gripping the door handles wondering if you were going to get in an accident and die as you sped through the streets of New York.
“So,” Kenley said. “Are we going to the hotel first, or…?”
“What hotel?”
“The hotel I’m staying at.” Her heart sank. He didn’t expect her to pay for her own hotel, did he? Not that that would have been unreasonable. He was paying her a hundred thousand dollars after all, so it would make sense that he might want her to cover some of her own expenses. But she wouldn’t be able to do that, at least not upfront.
Hotels in New York were expensive, and she hardly had any money.
Chad laughed. “You’re not staying in a hotel.”
“I’m not?” Could he… he didn’t mean he’d gotten her an apartment, had he?
She tried to remember if Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman had gotten an apartment, but no, she’d had a suite at that fancy hotel, The Beverly Wilshire. But Richard Gere’s character in that movie had been a businessman. Chad was a famous baseball player, so he was probably more concerned with things like fame and status -- it would probably look ridiculous if he made his girlfriend stay at a hotel, even a fancy one.
“No,” Chad said. “You’re staying with me.”
She spit out the water she was drinking, and it sprayed all over the back of the driver’s seat.
“The Brooklyn Heat will charge you for any damage to the car,” Chad said seriously, “since you’re not a member of the team.”
“Not funny,” she said.
“What isn’t? You having to pay for the car, or the fact that you’re staying in my apartment with me?”
“Both.”
“Good,” he said, “Because I wasn’t joking.”
“I can’t stay in your apartment!” The last thing she wanted to do was be close to him. Twenty-four seven. The two of them. In one apartment. It felt… wrong. And yet, a rush of heat flew through her body, and she wondered if rolling down the window would seem too obvious. “Can we roll down the window?” she asked Chad nonchalantly.
He leaned over her and pushed the button, and the cool air flew into the back of the car. It cooled her face, but did nothing to calm her beating heart, which was beating even faster now that the weight of Chad’s body was against hers. “Thanks,” she managed, “for inviting me to stay with you. But --”
“I didn’t invite you to stay with me,” he said. “It’s business.” He was back on his side of the car now.
“Right.” Her face flushed. “Anyway, um, I can’t.”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t stay at your apartment.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s… I don’t….”
He grinned at her again. “You don’t trust yourself?” He reached over and ran his fingertip along the inside of her wrist. The heat that had been coursing through her body exploded into a fireball.
“Don’t trust myself to do what?” she managed.
He leaned in and whispered in her ear “To stay away from me.” His finger was still rubbing the inside of her wrist, making little circles on her skin. The gesture was so small, yet painfully erotic.
“Why would I want to stay away from you?” she asked, looking him right in the eye.
“Because you know if you don’t, something’s going to happen.”
She rolled her eyes, but it felt fake, even to her. “Nothing,” she said, “is going to happen.”
“Yeah?” He cocked his eyebrow at her, challenging. Then he reached up and took her chin gently in his hand, pulling her face toward his. She could see the curve of his lip, and smell his cologne and laundry soap and something else that she couldn’t put her finger on, something that made her want him more than she’d ever wanted anything.
His lips were perfect, and they were moving closer toward her, so close that she thought he was going to kiss her. She wanted to look away, but she felt powerless. And then at the last second, Chad shrugged. “We’ll see.”
He turned around and looked out the window. Kenley spent the rest of the ride to Brooklyn trying to calm her beating heart.
***
Chad could hardly take the ache between his legs. As soon as he’d seen Kenley there, in the airport, looking around for him, all he’d wanted to do was run up, gather her in his arms, and take her back to his bed. And then, just now, in the limo, the way her skin had felt, the way her eyes had looked -- he’d wanted to kiss her so bad. But he wouldn’t let himself lose control. Getting close to her like that had been dangerous – if she’d kissed him, he didn’t know what would have happened. Luckily, he’d been able to play it off like he was the one who’d backed down, like he’d been teasing her the whole time. But it had taken every ounce of his self-control.
Damn.
He’d only been around her for thirty minutes and it was already turning into a disaster. He wondered if having her stay at his apartment had really been the best decision. Putting her up in at a hotel certainly would have simplified matters. But it didn’t seem very girlfriend-like, making her stay in a hotel. A real girlfriend would stay with him.
Whatever. He just needed to keep his distance. She was a business arrangement, and that was all. Besides, he couldn’t just go sleeping with some poor girl who had no idea what she was getting herself into. She was from Connecticut for God’s sake. And the fact that he was paying her definitely complicated matters. Sleeping with her would be weird, almost like paying her for sex.