by C. L. Stone
Still, I kept my thoughts to myself. I had no room to talk. I’d observe. If there was any trouble, I’d run. Even if I had to go back to Georgia and face the music. I didn’t know Ace well enough to fully believe him just yet, and I couldn’t wholeheartedly support anyone I didn’t trust.
Not after being so blind before. I had to be careful.
When I had used up almost half a bottle of aloe and it had absorbed into my skin enough I could put clothes back on, I checked my hair and my face. I combed my hair with my fingers to straighten it, to leave the bounce without brushing it flat. My face...ugh. Another day or two and it would simply look like a horrible tan. But for today, I was Miss Tomato.
There was a knock at the bedroom door.
My eyes flickered to the sink, as if pieces could have floated up and exposed me. Did he go upstairs and notice I’d been up there?
“Come in,” I said, my heart pounding. I swallowed. I turned to locate the bottle of aloe and replace the cap, and to avoid looking him in the eye when he came in.
“How’s the damage?” Ace’s voice echoed behind me.
I jumped slightly and turned, bottle in hand, but dropping the cap to the floor. It rolled toward him, bouncing off of his black shoes.
“Fine,” I said quickly, although realized that was a stupid thing to say. I cleared my throat and tried again. “It will look better tomorrow.”
He bent over and scooped up the cap, holding it out for me in his palm. “So, you don’t feel like going out to lunch this afternoon?”
The corner of my mouth twitched, ready to laugh. I assumed he was joking, but his previous joking attitude seemed to have faded. The blue seemed darker than before, and his expression held deep concern.
I touched my cheek, checking the tenderness. “It may not be for the best. This color would draw a lot of attention, even if I changed my hair.”
“How bad is it, really?” He came toward me, taking the bottle of aloe from my hands. He collected a little lotion on the tips of two fingers and aimed it at my face. “Is this stuff not helping? Maybe if you tried some more...”
I shook my head and patted his hand away. “I know how to apply aloe,” I said quickly.
He frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I really want to know.” He held up his cream covered fingers, and then the bottle. “I thought I may at least take you to dinner tonight, if you’d like to go, but if the lotion isn’t helping, maybe we should go find something that will.”
My lips twitched, and I bowed my head a little. “It just takes time. You can’t heal sunburn in a single night.”
He sighed and rubbed the aloe into his own hands to get rid of the goo, then closed the cap again on the bottle. “I just thought you’d want to go check out the enemy.”
“Enemy?”
“Loïc.”
L. I had to be right about the scorecard. I grinned, a little too toothily. “I...want to know what I’m supposed to do. Who is he?”
“He’s hard to explain. It is easier if I show you.” He moved to the countertop and put the bottle on the table. He stopped at the sink and peered down into the basin.
My heart exploded, but I tried to focus on the floor instead of him. I had double checked. There wasn’t any paper left.
There was a small squeak, and I looked up in time to see him tightening the handle. “Remind me to get Soma to call a plumber. Everything drips in this house.” His smile returned when he focused on me again. “Anyway, I only suggested today because I happen to know where he’ll be later. I don’t often know ahead of time.”
“Are we in a hurry with this...this...whatever this is?”
“Patience was never my strong suit.” His face fell then and he held up his hands. “But seriously, please, take all the time you need to get better. Soma always says I’ve the manners of an enraged rhinoceros.” Those blue eyes sparked with amusement. “How about we go just around the house and see how you feel? I’m happy to give you a tour.”
“Sure,” I said carefully, hoping my legs wouldn’t shake too much. I was never lacking in at least fake confidence, but around him, I felt like a shy school girl on her first date. “And maybe you can fill me in on exactly what I’m supposed to do.”
He went to the bathroom door, holding the edge of it. “Hang out like a girlfriend.”
It was the first time I noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes. I didn’t mind it, he was in his own home, but the ensemble of a posh sweater and the designer jeans made an odd combination without socks or shoes. I kept filing through different shoes I would have picked out of him.
That was my old job. I currently had a new one. Focus. “You’d move a girlfriend in so soon?” I asked quietly, stepping silently across the floor, shoulders back, trying not to look as jittery a mess as I felt on the inside. People shouldn’t see me like this if I were going to make people believe I was who he said I was.
He chuckled. “It wouldn’t surprise anyone.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a joke, or to believe people knew him to move in girlfriends quickly...and regularly enough that no one would bat an eye.
He started the tour on the second floor. I tried to look curious and very interested when he described the paintings.
“What’s behind that door?” I asked when we got close to the locked one.
He made a sideways chopping motion with his hand, dismissive. “All the stuff that had been stashed in the attic before we cleared it out. Anything that wasn’t just junk, anyway. Antiques anyone buying this house after me may want.”
He walked quickly past the door. I tried not to look at it, but couldn’t help but wonder... if all it was were old antiques, why lock it?
After the second floor, he showed me the downstairs, starting in the back with the old kitchen. The walls were open brick and the cabinetry was painted white with silver handles, modern as if to offset the old- style brick. The refrigerator and a microwave were made to look like cabinetry rather than appliances. In the corner sat an old, long-unused wood stove.
“I’m surprised by the brick,” I said. “But then that’s common here, isn’t it?”
“It was the only way Charleston’s Historical Society would allow me a permit to update the electricity,” he said. “Trying not to touch the walls so anyone could restore it to the original state if they wanted.” He racked his fingers on the island in the center, drumming out something but then stopped short. “I love old homes but there’s enough permits required to change the wall color that will drive anyone crazy, much less anything else you may want to do.”
I nodded absently, listening but my mind drifting. Part of me considered whether I should keep my phone on me. What if someone discovered my note?
“Have you ever done a tour before?” he asked. “Am I just going over what you already know?”
I turned from him, hiding my expression as though he could read my thoughts. Why was I feeling so guilty? “Inside a Charleston house?” I asked, touching the brick surrounding the older wood stove, taking in the dusty, crumbly feeling of the surface. “No. I’ve never been here. I’ve done a few tours of some in Atlanta, and a couple in Savannah.” Compose yourself, girl. Stay cool. I turned to him again.
He opened his mouth to speak when the back door in the kitchen opened.
Soma appeared, wearing clothing similar to this morning, but his black hair was combed in a different direction. He cradled a couple of paper bags in each arm, each having elegant logos or script names on the front.
He closed the door behind him with a short kick and went to the kitchen counter, dropping everything he carried on top of it. He shot me a look with a small smile. “I don’t think that shop will be carrying that particular brand of underwear any time soon. Apparently, they hadn’t heard.”
I widened my eyes at the number of bags and what he was saying. “They said they’d stop buying from them? Most stores don’t really listen to me. They just refund me and shoo me away.”
“Eva,”
Ace said with a smirk, “this is Charleston. You don’t get to misbehave in this town.”
Was that true? If so, why was he risking his reputation by letting me stay?
Yet, if stores here listened to my concerns, then I was interested in making an attempt to fit in. I could usually persuade purchasers to buy a guilt-free, quality piece, but never have I gotten a store to change their buying habits by just informing them.
Charleston was the sort of town I’d love to work in, where I could influence...
But again, that was my old life. Could I even do the same job anymore?
Soma nodded in agreement but then stopped short to refocus his attention on me. A stern, dark eyebrow rose. “Eva?”
“Her real name,” Ace said and sliced his hand through the air. “Long story. Did you get everything?”
I made a side grimace, realizing Ace had told him my name before was Emily. I regretted lying, but Ace passed it off easily, like it didn’t mean anything.
Soma’s gaze lingered a long moment on my face. “What’s your full name?”
“Evelyn Lacroix,” I said.
He frowned, just a touch. “Shame. The name is very well suited to you.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Ace said, with a surprisingly authentic tone. It warmed me that he was so concerned with knowing I’d have to change it.
I offered a small shrug. If I wanted to do what Ace was asking, everything about me had to change. But I hadn’t thought of a name. “Maybe I should keep Emily.”
“Maybe,” Ace said. “Not my favorite.” He refocused on Soma. “Let’s start with a look. Maybe then we can come up with something that fits the new image. What are we going for?”
Soma dug into one shopping bag, pulling out boxes of hair coloring. “I bought every shade that seemed to match your skin tone. I wasn’t sure the quality, but this is one of the most expensive from the salon.”
“Worth it,” Ace said and took a box of color from Soma and tilted it in his hands to check out the golden packaging. He presented it to me. “What do you think of red?”
I took the box from him, a brand I wasn’t aware of but promised a quality color and moisturizing nourishment. “How soon was this other event you wanted me to attend again? The charity?”
“Tomorrow evening,” they said at the same time.
Soma lifted a brow at Ace. “Did you ask her about the early dinner today? As a precursor?”
“Yup,” Ace said with a small, coy smile on his lips as he pulled out other color options. “What’s the time?”
“My information says he should be there at seven. He’s going to be running a little late.”
My information? Who was his source and how did either of them know this rival’s schedule at all?
“Typical.” Ace held his smile. “Anyway, we’re taking it slow, seeing if she’s up for it.”
I coughed and dropped the box back onto the counter. “You can’t be serious. You want to head out today for dinner, and then a charity event tomorrow?” I waved my hand around my face. “With this red nonsense?”
Ace smirked. “Is it inconvenient? Did you have other plans?”
I sputtered. “I don’t know. Do you want me to blend in or stick out? I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing.” My skin screamed for moisture, and for my aching body to find a comfortable seat— to sleep and recover. There was no way I’d be able to hide my pain standing around...maybe with a strong dose of prescription strength aspirin.
“You don’t have to say anything to anyone,” he said. “We’re just going to make an appearance tonight so we’re making the first move.”
“First move at what?”
He chopped his hand on top of the counter. “Preemptive strike,” he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “Don’t worry about it. What did I promise? You pretend, I help you out. Nothing complicated. Your job is easier than mine, because all you have to do is look marvelous next to me. You’ve already got the looks down.”
“You want me to pretend to be someone else.” I waved to the boxes of color. “Won’t this guy... Loïc, find it odd if I come out of nowhere? Won’t he put the pieces together that I’m pretending to be someone I’m not?”
Ace waved me off to walk around to the other side of the kitchen island. He put his hands on it, leaning hard against it. “He might, but don’t worry about it.”
I let out a puff between my lips. “So he could potentially learn about the real me.”
“Trust me,” he said. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, please. You seem clever and a lot of fun, but you’re also strikingly beautiful, and for the moment, that’s what I feel will be a distraction for him. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you in public. A little change in hair color, and a little makeup and different clothes. Then you dazzle people with your beauty. You’ve got a figure most girls would die for. Especially the boobs. Trust me. I’ve seen them.”
The heat from my burn was doubled by a full blush all over my body. It was all the compliments followed up by remembering flashing him for him to stop. “That was...”
“Desperate,” he said. “And spunky. I like that about you. You’ll draw Loïc’s attention off of me, which is what I want. Okay? That’s all I need. A little distraction. If he’s chasing you around trying to figure out who you are, I get time I need for what I’m going to do. That’s it. Nothing to it. Leave the rest to me. You’ll be perfectly safe with us.”
Is that all I was supposed to do? Be a distraction?
I wasn’t so confident about my looks, but if that was all he thought I needed to do, could I pull it off? I could at least be distracting enough in some way.
Soma made a coughing sound as if to interrupt this awkward pause. He plucked a box up from the selection on the counter. “Red may not work,” he said. “And we can’t go with the browns. Black or blonde?”
“Blond,” I said before Ace could say anything. If anyone was going to pick a color for my new image, I was going to. Blond was about as distracting a color one could go. “And I’ll need a fresh makeup palette.”
Soma lifted another elegant brown paper bag. “Complete kits, as recommended by spa associates. And I made sure to pick up what they called crème makeup that included moisturizer, and picked out enough to cover your body all over.”
My heart sped up again, but not from fear or embarrassment, but from excitement. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, it was kind of fun to reinvent myself. “And a new style,” I said. “Clothing and shoes...”
Soma motioned to the door. “There’s more in the car. I had a designer take your clothing sizes and told her your body shape. She pulled a couple of things appropriate for dinner tonight for you to pick from. However, she wants you to come by tomorrow morning. She’ll put together a wardrobe for you.”
Someone else...dressing me? I was nervous to trust someone I hadn’t met before to give me clothes that suited me. I wouldn’t want to insult someone if I asked any questions about source materials.
What if I wanted to work for the same shop later?
But he said designer. A designer fitting clothes and selling directly? It wasn’t totally unusual of course, but I was intrigued.
“How did you manage to go out and buy clothing for a girl, makeup and hair color, anyway?” I asked. “No one asked you why?”
Soma looked to Ace quickly and then to me before casting his serious dark eyes to the floor. “I... may have suggested that you were a friend of Ace’s, and too hungover to come out yourself, but required clothes and makeup as you didn’t have any.”
My mouth plunged open. “Hungover? Arrived without...” I instinctively pinched at the top of my nose at the sudden headache that was coming on. “I thought I needed a clean reputation.”
“A different reputation,” Ace said. “No one said anything about being squeaky clean.”
I sighed heavily. What did I care? The real me was plastered all over the news as a drug dealer. So what if the n
ew fake me was a little more loose, a little fun? Maybe I should take advantage of it. I was always working so hard. Maybe it was time to give in to relaxing and just rolling with it. I’d been around enough socialites and influencers to get the gist and could mimic them. “Fine. I’ll need an extra pair of hands. Soma, if you aren’t too busy, we’ll need to hurry.”
Ace pulled out his cell phone. “It’s one. If we go at six thirty, you’ve got a few hours. You need to start getting ready now?”
I tilted my head briefly, relaxed my shoulders, and tried to embrace a confidence I used to show to clients. I exposed a coy smile. “You’ve had a great many girlfriends, Mr. Waris, right? I’m sure you know all about the work a woman must go through to prepare for even a simple dinner date.”
Ace’s lips twitched, like he wanted to answer but had nothing to offer.
Soma’s expression was almost void, but there was a spark in those dark eyes. He was hiding his amusement.
Enough play. I picked a blond coloring from the options that I thought I liked. I hadn’t had that coloring in a very long time. This should be exciting. “Will you bring the rest upstairs, Soma?” I asked. “I’ll need a robe, and we may need gloves, a mixing bowl, and plenty of towels to protect the floor. We also may need some sort of chair so you can see over my head to make sure we catch everything.” If we weren’t going to get a professional in here, I wanted to make sure we did our very best.
“At once,” he said. “The master bedroom’s bathroom may be more suitable for all of this. There’s more room.”
Good. I wanted to get more of an idea about Ace anyway. An excuse to enter his bedroom was good by me.
I expectantly turned toward Ace, checking in with him to show me the way. He went to the door of the kitchen, holding it open for me. “This way, Miss Emily.”
I was careful with my footing, walking out as smooth as silk to instill some confidence in them. Faking it for them and for me, because I wasn’t quite feeling it just yet. Maybe after a makeover.
Silhouette
Ace’s bedroom took up at least half of the first floor. I wasn’t even sure it was a bedroom at first. The front area had a settee and two arm chairs along with a coffee table. With a large flat screen on the wall, it felt more like a den or small living area.
