by Ana Ashley
“You looked really uncomfortable. I was trying to help. Have I screwed things up?” I said.
Denver’s chest, which had been puffed up since I’d told his ex I was the new boyfriend, deflated and his breathing resumed.
“Uhm, yes-I mean, no. No, you haven’t. Thank you,” he said.
“Coffee?” I asked, and passed him one of the cups in my hands.
He took it from my hands and thanked me, and the more he sipped the hot drink, the more he seemed to return to his usual self. Not that I knew squat about his usual self. Maybe this little, white lie would give me the excuse to do just that.
“You weren’t hoping to get back with him, were you? Because I can dump your ass in a similar public manner to win his affection,” I suggested.
So what if the signs were showing he wanted nothing to do with him? Maybe he was still in love with him and his attitude had been a ruse to make Paul more keen.
The mere thought was quickly shot down when Denver responded by pretending to retch.
“You’re not mad then?” I asked.
Denver shook his head.
“No, of course not. Just… shocked. I guess,” he replied.
“Am I that shocking?” I teased before taking a sip of my coffee. Liquid courage and all. Something I certainly needed at that moment.
“What?” Denver coughed as his drink was at his lips. He put the cup down to pat his chest and cleared his throat. “Of course not. It… it just came out of nowhere, that’s all. I’m glad you did it. He looked absolutely devastated.”
The naughty smile that decorated his face was so infectious that I smiled with him. We both grinned at each other in absolute silence like two goofy teenagers scheming, and as much my head scrambled to find a way out of this sweet awkwardness, I couldn’t.
“So… Paul?” was all I managed to say.
“Paul what?” he asked, lifting his gaze to meet mine.
I shrugged. I didn’t want him to offer me anything he didn’t want to offer, but at the same time, I wanted to know about Denver and the kind of man he was.
“Paul and I were together for seven years. We were good together. For a while. But then our paths changed. We changed. Paul liked to spend money and I didn’t have any. So he piled up on credit card debts, and when he maxed out his name, he took loans out under mine. I managed to get my debt under control, but by the time I did, I found out he’d found a sugar daddy to fund his extravagance.
“Once he got his sugar daddy, he moved in with him in his filthy rich penthouse and I was left alone to pay for my two-bedroom place in Brooklyn. I couldn’t afford it, so I couch surfed with friends until I got a break and got the job here,” he said, seemingly in one breath.
That was terrible. How could someone be so cruel and irresponsible, especially with someone like Denver by their side. It was upsetting. I was upset for Denver and I didn’t even know the guy.
“That is horrible. I’m so sorry you went through that,” I said.
Denver pursed his lips when he looked at me, and his eyes seemed to glow brighter.
“It’s not your fault,” he replied.
“Still. I am sorry.”
“That’s sweet of you,” he said and stared at me.
Once again, I didn’t know what to say to him that wouldn’t creep him out. Because I certainly couldn’t tell him that if he’d been with me, I’d never take advantage of him like that or betray his trust. But you didn’t say these things to someone you’d met only two seconds ago. You could barely say that to someone you’d known a few months.
Denver turned around and tidied up a book display that was already tidy.
“Anyway, how do you know Paul?” he asked.
“What?” I asked. I didn’t know Paul. Why would he think I knew him?
“Well, he seemed to know you for sure,” Denver explained.
“Oh,” I answered.
“Oh,” Denver repeated with the naughty grin returning to his face.
I placed my coffee on the table and gave him my hand to shake.
“My name is William Knowles the third,” I said, waiting for the impact of my words.
Instead, Denver looked at me with confusion lining his face.
“And I should know who—” he said, and then his eyes lit up in recognition as his face broke out in a huge smile of surprise. “Oh my God! You’re the William Knowles. As in Stature Editor-in-Chief William Knowles?”
Before I got the chance to confirm, he interrupted himself.
“Of course. I must have seen your picture on the editorial page a hundred times. How the hell did I not recognise you?”
I shrugged and was about to tell him that maybe my face wasn’t that memorable when he gasped again.
“Fuck! You’re a billionaire. Crap. And I dragged you out of your house like you were a nobody,” he said.
“Not like a nobody, actually. Like I was an Oswald.” I laughed, but he didn’t.
“I’m so sorry. I-I’m such a big fan of your magazine. It’s my dream to one day write for you. For the magazine. For Stature. Fuck. I’m not making a great impression, am I? Fuck, why did I tell you I’m a fan. I’m shooting myself in the foot, aren’t I?”
Denver looked to be having a minor panic attack, and I didn’t know how to stop him other than to place my hands on his shoulders and make his gaze focus on mine.
“Deep breath in. Deep breath out,” I said, and he obeyed. “Slowly. That’s it.”
And that was the exact reason I couldn’t date. Which was a shame because after our brief moments together, there was nothing I would have loved more than the chance to date Denver.
Once Denver’s breathing returned to normal, I took my hands off him, but not my eyes. I needed to be sure he’d be fine before I could leave him. Not that I wanted to leave him.
“You just said you’re with me. To my ex,” he said, his voice going up a pitch.
I nodded. “Yes, that’s correct.”
“I wish you hadn’t done that. Now you’re fucked. He’s going to tell everyone we’re dating,” he said.
Maybe I couldn’t really date Denver, but there was a different way to spend more time with him.
“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked.
“Well,” he said. “For starters, your reputation will be ruined.”
“Why would my reputation be ruined if people find out I’m dating?”
“Because… I’m me. I’m not a billionaire,” he said.
I laughed out loud. More because he was channelling my worries than because he was actually being funny.
“It doesn’t matter. Besides, I’d love to see the face of humiliation on your ex,” I said and got down on one knee as if I was about to propose and reached for his hand. “Will you let me be your fake boyfriend to get back at Paul?”
Denver smirked and took my hand.
“Yes, yes I will,” he laughed.
I wished there was a way for me to have and to treasure that laugh for the rest of my life. But Denver had said it himself. He wasn’t a billionaire. And I was. He already knew it was going to be a problem for him.
At least we could pretend a little while longer. And I could pretend like there was such a thing as a happy ever after for me.
6
Denver
Since I’d agreed to let Will be my fake boyfriend, he’d taken upon himself to get to know me better. That had involved joining me on my daily sunrise observation sessions.
It wouldn’t be too bad since Will was the most interesting and intriguing man I’d ever met, but that damned kaleidoscope of butterflies refused to quiet any time he was around.
Needless to say, I hadn’t spent as much time watching the sunrise as I did trying to keep myself from jumping onto his lap and using his body as a blanket, among other things.
“That was a big sigh,” Will said, resting his hand on my knee.
And that was the other thing. The man was so damned tactile. He’d touched my arm, held my
hand, and rested his hand on my leg on multiple occasions. The first time it had happened, I’d jumped at the touch and nearly tripped over myself. He’d caught me just in time to stop me from face-planting on the sand, explaining that he’d seen Paul walking past.
There had been other occasions. Sometimes I’d see Paul in the corner of my eye, but there were other times I’d known for sure he wasn’t there.
That confused me. Add in my stupid attraction for the man, and I wasn’t sure this fake boyfriends thing was a good idea after all. Maybe it was easier to deal with Paul. After all, he’d need to leave the island with his “sugar daddy” at some point.
“What?” I asked confused.
“You let out the longest sigh. Everything okay?”
No. “Yeah.”
Will moved so he was cross legged on the sand in front of me. His position gave me no choice but to look at him, something I was avoiding since we’d arrived at the beach.
“Um, I was thinking...” I looked down at where his hands had taken mine and his strong fingers were rubbing circles on my skin. “I don’t think we need to play fake boyfriends anymore.”
He stopped so I looked up at him.
“Why?”
“Well, we haven’t really seen Paul in the last couple of days, so I thought maybe you’d want to enjoy your holiday instead of being stuck with me all the time.”
“I’m not stuck with you,” he said.
“Well, you sort of are. I’m sure when you booked your flight for Saint Louis you didn’t think you’d have to lounge about with a little librarian joined at the hip.”
He tilted his head. “What if, and I’m going on a limb here, I enjoy spending time with you?”
“You don’t mean that,” I faltered.
I’d been spending so much time with his easy smile, I missed it instantly when it was gone.
“Denver,” he paused as though he was choosing his words carefully. He tightened his grip on my hands, bringing them up to his chest which resulted in us being so close I could feel his breath on my lips. “This was my idea, but trust me, if I didn’t enjoy spending time with you, I wouldn’t.”
All I could do was nod my agreement.
Without letting go of my hands, he straightened and said, “There’s a party tomorrow evening for all the diamond members. Paul’s sugar daddy is a diamond member so Paul will definitely be there. Would you like to come with me?”
I wasn’t sure I was allowed as I was staff, but something told me Will would find a way around it, so I just smiled and said yes. Anything to get back at that asshole, Paul.
Yes, that was right. I was only doing this to get back at Paul.
As I’d predicted, Will had spoken to the resort manager about taking me to the party, who’d agreed to the request and even given me an allowance and time off to go to the main island to shop for something appropriate to wear.
I’d had no idea what to buy for such a party, and Will wasn’t able to come with me because he had a conference call he’d needed to attend. He just said that I could wear whatever I wanted and I’d still look gorgeous.
As soon as I picked up my melted heart off the floor, I realized his compliment wouldn’t help me whatsoever fitting in with the rest of the guests.
My hand shook as I pressed the bell on the door of Will’s villa. I looked down at my black chino trousers and white linen shirt.
When I looked up, bluer than blue eyes stared back at me.
“I love it when I’m right,” Will said, his lips quirking on one side.
“Shut up.”
A lot of the party guests had forfeited footwear in the spirit of the resort’s theme. Even though I felt like an interloper, seeing people walk around barefoot did relax me a little.
The party took up the decked area outside of the resort’s main restaurant leading all the way to the beach. I recognised some of the staff serving the drinks and waved at them. I was glad to get a few smiles back. Some even winked. Yup, I was a total interloper.
“I’ll go get us a drink,” Will said, placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
I stared at his figure as he walked over to the bar. Okay, fine, I stared at his ass, but who wouldn’t? I was pretty sure his trousers were tailor made, but he’d look just as good in a pair of Levi’s.
“I thought this was an exclusive party.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I turned around to face Paul.
“How can I help you?” I said in the most neutral voice I could muster.
“Oh, you’re working tonight,” he smirked.
I turned to leave, but he caught me by my arm.
“What do you want, Paul?”
“What do you think you’re doing here?” he spat. “You think you belong in this world? You don’t like fine dining; you don’t like quality clothing.”
“What’s it to you? Aren’t you here with your boyfriend?” I said, looking at where his much older partner stood in line for the bar. He seemed engaged in conversation with Will.
Will belonged here. The old man belonged here. Even Paul almost belonged here, in a messed up kind of way. Who was I kidding? There was no chance of Paul ever really believing Will and I were together.
“We have an open relationship. I take care of his needs and he takes care of mine.” The way Paul talked about his relationship made my skin crawl. I may not belong in this world, but I would never talk about someone like that.
“You are mistaking me for someone who cares, Paul. Now if you excuse me, I’m going to join my boyfriend at the bar.”
He tightened his grip on my arm.
“Whatever you think you have with Mr. Moneybags won’t last. You’re just a pretty face he’ll get tired of soon enough. Let’s face it, I did. What makes you think a billionaire won’t?”
I took a deep breath trying my best to keep back the tears that were threatening to spill over.
When I saw Will only a few feet away from me holding two glasses of champagne, I walked over and pulled him into the kiss I’d been dying for since the first moment I’d seen him take his socks off in the lobby of the resort and look at me.
7
Will
I let him take full control of me. I got so lost in the bliss that was his touch. His lips on mine. The warmth of his skin. I didn’t know what had possessed him, but I was game. It only took me a few moments, but I finally gained control of myself again. He was doing it for show, of course. There was no other way he would have walked up to me, in front of all the hotel’s diamond members, and given me a kiss like that if he didn’t want to get back at Paul.
Well, if that was his purpose, I was more than happy to help. And a chaste kiss wasn’t going to fucking cut it.
I thrust my tongue against his lips and gained access to his mouth, deepening the kiss, and with it, my longing for the man. If I’d felt anything close to attraction before, I was so completely screwed because my heart beat a tiny bit faster and my stomach tightened a little bit stronger and I knew that I was only going to get myself into bigger trouble by continuing this charade.
Because the truth of the matter was, I was falling for this guy, and I was falling hard.
The sound of two hands coming together in a slow clap brought me back to the room, and Denver pulled away from me, denying me something I was quickly becoming addicted to. We both turned toward the source of our distraction who was none other than Paul, who looked as bitter as I’d ever seen a man, his green eyes slit into thin lines that screamed of fury.
“Fantastic show, you two. You’re really going for the jugular, aren’t you? Word of advice, William. Just because you’re buying the island doesn’t mean you own the people on it,” he said, and the rest of the guests chuckled before returning to their own conversations.
“All right, all right. You’ve made enough of a fool of yourself, now you can shut up and stop nosing in on other people’s business,” I told him, making sure that everyone could hear, that everyone could understand h
ow out of line he was.
“Just speaking the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t like it,” he said and walked toward us. “It took me a while to understand why you’d show any interest in my little man, Denver, here, but then I finally put two and two together when Gerald told me your family is buying the resort. As much money as you have, people aren’t for sale, Mr. Knowles.”
And with that, he walked straight past us and went up to his boyfriend to give him a kiss on the cheek. Denver watched them both as they left the party and his shoulders and chest puffed and his eyes turned red, but before I could check if he was okay, he ran off in the opposite direction without a word.
“Denver!” I called out to him, but he didn’t stop.
I ran after him and left the terrace to follow him into the garden. However, he wasn’t barefoot like me, and the minute I stepped onto the grass, something stung my foot and I yelped. That still didn’t get Denver’s attention. Biting down the pain, I caught up with him, grabbed his arm, and turned him around. His eyes were red and tears were streaming down his face.
“Denver, why are you crying?” I asked.
“Just-just leave me alone,” he said and tried to back off, but I walked beside him.
“Don’t let the asshole get you down. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” I said.
Denver wiped his face and stopped to look at me.
“I know he doesn’t, and yet he still gets to me. It’s embarrassing, but I can’t help how he’s making me feel. He always has a way of making me feel like a piece of shit,” he said and more tears ran down his cheeks.
“You are not a piece of shit. You are the most handsome, kindest, sweetest man I’ve ever met. And I have no idea why you ever stuck around that douchebag, but no matter how he made you feel, I need you to know you’re worthy of more than what he gave you. You’re worth of way more.”
It was like I couldn’t stop myself, and I didn’t want to. No one deserved to be made to feel that way, especially not Denver.
