by Ellie Hall
"Let go of me."
A tall, athletic man shouldered his way forward. "Is there a problem?" His tone held less of a question and more of a threat. "She told you to let go and unless you want my hands on you, I suggest you listen." He stepped closer, his figure imposing.
The guy's hand vanished to his side. "Sorry, mate."
Emma raised her eyebrows and slipped past them. "Thank you," she said to the guy. "Are you from the US?" He didn't have a British accent.
"New York."
Emma lit up. "Me too."
"There you are," Will appeared, his face set like stone, and then he did a double take. "Matteo?"
The two men embraced.
"I thought you were trying to hit on her."
Matteo shook his head. "They were though." He pointed toward the bar but only one of the three men remained.
"They used the worst pick-up lines I've ever heard." Emma wanted to take a shower to wash off the slimy feeling.
"Where are my manners? Emma meet Matteo. She's from New York," Will said, introducing them.
"I know," Matteo said. He was handsome with dark hair and eyes. Tattoos peeked out from his shirtsleeve. "I'm headed there tomorrow."
"I just got back. Missed you at Everly's Christmas party."
"I've been here for three months. Where've you been anyway?" Matteo asked.
"Around." Will stuffed his hands in his pockets.
"Avoiding—" Matteo laughed darkly.
Will seemed to remember something and gripped his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your father."
"Don't be. Regretfully, I have to go pay my respects. I should get going. A few people invited me here tonight as a farewell but it's not my scene."
"What? We used to club all the time—"
Emma crossed her arms in front of her chest, ready to leave.
Matteo clapped Will on the shoulder. "I think your date would prefer a different kind of setting as well." He winked at Emma and disappeared into the crowd.
"Matteo was right. I'm ready to leave too," she shouted over the music.
"I haven't introduced you to anyone."
"I don't think there's anyone else here that I'd like to meet."
"Don't you want to dance?" Will said, reaching for her.
She stepped back.
A gust of cold air blew from the front of the building indicating the exit.
"I want to go home." As Emma glided through the crowd toward the awaiting fresh air and freedom, several flashes snapped in their direction as if taking photos. She picked up her pace. She couldn't be sure if they were taking pictures of her or just wild and reckless.
Will called after her, trying to convince her to stay. As she exited, someone whistled at her. She grunted and her breath clouded. The catcalls continued as she scanned the street for a taxi.
Will appeared at her side. The space between his eyebrows pinched. "You shouldn't be out here by yourself."
"I'm better off than in there." She rubbed her hands together to warm them, having left her mittens behind. "Why'd you take me to a place like this?" she hissed.
Will's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. It's what I used to do to network. Apex has a certain clientele. You must've seen at least three actresses in there and—"
"I cannot picture any of those people breaking a sweat on a treadmill," she said pointedly.
He shrugged. "No, but celebrities and models draw in the people who want to be associated with them. It's how the industry works."
Her teeth chattered.
A black SUV pulled to the curb.
"That was quick." Emma bounced on her toes to keep warm.
Will slid into the seat beside her and at the same moment, his phone lit up with a call. The name Jared flashed across the screen. Will reluctantly tapped the button to answer.
Emma could hear Jared's nasally voice on the other end as he said, "If you don't get your career on track you're going to lose some big opportunities."
"It's my first night back, I just wanted to say hello to old friends."
"Ever heard of a cell phone? Oh, wait. You're on one right now. If you don't stop indulging the fame machine, you're going to lose yourself."
Will grimaced.
"You don't bring the girl you're using to clean up your image out to the clubs. You bring her on a date."
Will bristled. "This is your plan. Not mine." He leaned against the window and muffled whatever else Jared said.
Something sunk inside her as the words the girl you're using echoed in her ears, louder than the music from the club. The comment made her feel awful. She told herself it was just a job. Honest work. Sort of. Assistant by day and fake girlfriend by night.
But at what cost? She certainly wasn't going to another club. That wasn't her scene. If Will thought her idea of fun was boring, so be it.
"Fine. Whatever, Jared." Will's voice brought her out of her thoughts. At that, he hung up, looking guilty and as if he'd gotten an actual scolding.
Minutes passed as Benson hit multiple stoplights. The only sound in the vehicle was the tires on the damp cement.
But Emma caught Will giving her a sidelong glance. She felt a pulse under her skin that wasn't there when the other guys looked at her. But he wasn't like most other guys and that was something she didn't want to risk thinking about.
Silence wedged itself between them and neither Will nor Emma said a word the whole ride home.
Chapter 10
Will
The next morning, Will stopped in to check on Sydney before heading over to Apex HQ. He sat there a long time, eventually telling the old man about the girl he'd met. If Sydney were conscious, he'd probably tell Will things he didn't want to hear: things like settling down and not bringing nice girls like her to clubs.
There'd been no change in the prognosis and the visit left Will feeling helpless hopeless. His dearest friend, mentor, and father figure was dying and despite all the money he threw at doctors, he couldn't stop it from happening. Outside, cold rain dropped from the sky as Will dashed from the car to the office building. Inside, his gaze landed immediately on Emma. She was wearing an Apex tank and eating a cookie at the front desk. He fought against the craving.
"Good morning. A steady diet of cookies for breakfast, I see."
"I'll eat them even if you don't."
Brooke, one of his employees, eyed the box.
"Were you the teacher's pet?" Will asked Emma as he removed his coat. "Moved on from apples and onto cookies?"
"I'm not trying to win anyone's approval or suck up, Will." Emma crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"She's trying to fatten us," Sylvia said with disgust.
"No, but you could certainly use a little sugar," she shot back.
Will peered into the box.
Emma slammed it shut. "Employees only."
Will's head jerked back. "What?" His lips quirked. "Technically this is my corporation so I am an employee."
"You really want one of my cookies? I thought you didn't eat cookies or talk to me."
"I told you good morning."
Sylvia, Brooke, and the others looked on with keen interest.
"And I didn't say I'd never ever eat a cookie."
Everyone's eyes lifted to the photo print on the wall emblazoned with his rock-hard abs.
"But you want one now?"
He smirked. "I really, really do." He wanted to get things back on track with her and there was no way anyone would believe they were an item if they were arguing in public. Plus the cookies smelled good. She looked good.
"You can't have one." Will shifted to swipe the box but Emma stepped in front of it.
The phone rang. "Will, Quinn is ready for you upstairs," Sylvia said.
"I'll be right up," he replied. He turned back to Emma. "I'll get my hands on those cookies if it's the last thing I do."
Emma lifted her chin. "If that's the case, it seems to me like I'm the girl you're using for cookies."
It w
as a cheap shot but it still stung. He opened his mouth to reply but didn't want to bring his personal matters into the office. He'd made that mistake with Veronica and vowed never again. Plus, Quinn was waiting and he really needed a massage.
Without a word, throwing him and Emma back into silence, he went to his appointment.
While the masseuse attempted to work out all the kinks and tension in his muscles, he couldn't stop thinking about Emma. She was different than other women, which meant if things were going to work between them in their pretend relationship—or even in real life—he needed to act differently but he wasn't sure how.
He was restless and frustrated. He knew it was stupid to party as a way to cope with the past and a particularly difficult situation in the present—one he tried very hard not to think about.
Jared was right about him needing to clean up his image. His time in the US had been fun, but he couldn't go on like that. It was never as bad as it looked on film.
However, Jared was wrong about one thing. He'd said the girl you're using. Emma was more than that. Even if their relationship was fake, he wanted them to be friends or at least tolerate each other, especially since they had to work together. She'd heard the comment. He certainly didn't want her to feel used. He wasn't sure how to fix it because he got the sense a simple apology on his agent's behalf wasn't going to cut it.
The door opened, illuminating the dim space.
"We have to talk." Emma's voice was demanding, on edge. "Apparently, we have a date tonight. I just got a message from Jared." She spoke his name with disdain. "How is this going to work?"
Will lifted his head from the table. "I was just wondering the same thing."
Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes tightened.
He didn't want to have this conversation in front of Quinn so he carefully sat up, put on a robe, and excused the masseuse. "I'm sorry about last night. It was stupid and a mistake. Tonight will be better, I promise."
"How do you know? You didn't plan it."
"Jared did, it'll be great." He hoped.
"This whole thing was also his idea and see how well that's working out."
Will wanted to calm her down. Sure, things were rocky but he could fix it. He just had to work a little harder and try a little more. He gripped her shoulders and nudged his head so she'd look at him. He blinked, lost in her eyes for a moment.
Her lips parted but no sound came out.
He wondered if she felt this connection. It was as if they were physically attracted to each other but something blocked them from getting along. "Meet me tonight. I'll make everything up to you."
After Will talked to Jared and modified the plan slightly, he attended a full afternoon of meetings that bled into the evening. He was restless, eager to meet Emma and bring her to Le Petit Bisou, one of the premier restaurants in the world. Jared arranged a car for each other them because he was held late at the office.
He worried she'd bail out, not wanting to meet him. Surely, she'd see it wasn’t a loud club and the clientele was refined and respectable—not the sort to use cheesy pick-up lines on her. He wore the suit she'd picked up from the tailor and flashed a smile in the mirror before leaving. Numerous calls demanded his attention on the ride over. Sometimes he wanted to leave his phone behind but was tethered to it, his business, and career.
The driver left him off at the airstrip where he found Emma waiting outside the plane.
"William, where are we going?" Something other than excitement laced her voice.
"It's a surprise and the flight will only take an hour. That's like getting across town in traffic during rush hour."
She huffed. "I don't like flying."
Despite her obvious irritation, she looked slightly windswept and gorgeous in a designer dress that shone like sapphires. Her hair was down and smooth, curving just below her jawline and leaving his eyes to roam over her delicate neck. He swallowed hard.
"Can we try this? Please," he asked. "All the arrangements have been made, and I'm certain you'll love the destination."
He extended his hand to kiss hers in an old-fashioned but romantic gesture. Then, placing his hand on her low back, he guided her onto the plane. "How are you this evening?" he asked.
"I was well until I found out we're flying. You?"
"Dashing."
After exactly one hour of her punishing him with silence—he'd tried to start up numerous conversations—they landed.
"Bienvenue."
"Wait. Are we in France?"
Will nodded. "Yes, Paris actually. On our way to my favorite restaurant. I think you'll enjoy it." He recalled she'd mentioned planning a trip there.
A car met them and ten minutes later, they settled at a table for two, strategically in view of anyone else at the establishment.
Will's phone beeped with a message from Jared. He grunted with irritation.
They exchanged small talk and then the waiter presented the menu items. After placing their order, Will fidgeted with his utensils. Emma smoothed her napkin on her lap several times. He didn't know what to say since she'd boycotted personal questions.
"I don't know how to thank you for this lovely gown. I spent time at a dress shop with Jared's assistant, Bridget. It was quite the experience. She kind of threw this outfit at me, assuring me it was perfect."
"I have to agree."
Emma looked down at her gown. "I've never worn anything like it before. Thankfully, it fit because she was gone as quickly as she'd appeared. Like a clothing Mary Poppins or something."
"Was the experience good, bad, somewhere in between?"
She nodded. "It was lovely, actually. Bridget was so nice. I don't know how she tolerates Jared though."
Will chuckled. "She has thick skin." His phone beeped again. "Speak of the devil. I think he's watching us."
"What?" Confusion rippled across her face. "We're in another country."
"Jared sent me a scripted plan for our courtship. According to him, it seems we're getting off to a slow start. And because I'm not following it to the letter, he sent a reminder."
"Our courtship?" Emma asked. "Sounds rather formal."
"Sounds rather ridiculous." Will didn't know why he'd agreed to this. Not because he didn't like Emma but because he wanted a real life and not the glossy or false version for the cameras.
"Sounds like something out of Pride and Prejudice."
"Am I Mr. Darcy?" Will smiled wryly.
Emma scoffed.
"What? I'd make a terrific Mr. Darcy."
She nodded. "Exactly."
The waiter brought them course after course, served on fine china, which kept them busy enough, but still semi-shrouded in that awkward, nearly impenetrable silence.
"This is so lavish," Emma said after taking a sip of tea to conclude the meal.
"You fit in perfectly. I think the billionaire lifestyle looks good on you," Will said, leaning back in his chair.
Emma rubbed her sleeve. "It's itchy."
"You look the part."
"But I'm not the part. I'm a girl from a small town. I bake. I read. I have a degree in computer science. Up until the other day, I didn’t have a job. Sure, I can be your assistant, but the late-night parties and fancy meals aren't really my style or at least they're not like this. Fake and staged, or whatever."
He nodded in agreement.
"So far, I think we've proven how very different we are."
"Maybe it's in our differences we'll find common ground."
"We hardly know each other."
"I'd like to get to know you." His fingertips were a thread's distance from hers on the table.
She tucked her hands in her lap. "So you can use me to clean up your image."
Will straightened. "I'm sorry Jared said that."
"You don't have to apologize for him. You may not have said it but you were thinking it too."
"I wasn't." His was voice was firm, true. He met Emma's gaze with an intensity that even took him by surprise.
"Jared has his own ideas and we certainly don't share them." He paused, gathering courage because he'd never spoken so openly before. "If circumstances were different I might have asked you to dinner anyway."
"I'm not like the girls from the clubs."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm not like the girls you usually date."
Will took a long drink of water. "Tell me more about girls I don’t usually date."
"I told you no personal questions."
"Right. Well, since we are on a date, real or fake, what would a girl that I usually don't date talk about?"
Emma sighed. "I don't know. This is make-believe. Made up. Fake."
Will couldn't hide his disappointment but he didn't build an international corporation by giving up. "Think back to the last person you dated. What did you talk about?"
Apparently, this was what he shouldn't have said.
"We should go." Emma stood. "Thank you for dinner."
Will followed her toward the front of the restaurant calling after her, "Wrong question. Sorry. Terrible idea. Um, okay." He pulled out his phone and searched first date questions. He scanned an article while they waited for their coats. "Where would you next like to vacation? What's the best present you've ever received?"
She ignored him.
"Do you keep me talking because you like the sound of my voice or don't want to talk about yourself?"
"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner."
"I'm going to pretend you weren't being sarcastic." Will carried on as they stepped outside. For a moment her expression streaked with something like awe at the wintry Parisian street, but then several cameras flashed, temporarily blinding them both. Of course, the paparazzi showed up.
His phone beeped. Will sighed. "Emma," he called.
She paused on the sidewalk, her eyes blinking into focus. He pulled her close. She smelled sweet like vanilla and slightly zesty, like a perfume with citrus. He whispered, "Jared wants us to hug."
He felt her stiffen but she leaned into him nonetheless. As he pulled her closer, he wished things were different between them. He wanted to be normal. Modeling put him on the map. His money kept him there. For once, he wanted something else.
