The Boss's Fake Fiancée

by Susan Meier

  * * *

  Wednesday night, the second welcome ball began almost the same way the first had. Lila came out of her bedroom in a cobalt-blue satin gown, looking good enough to eat. Mitch adjusted the cuffs on his white shirt before sliding into his tuxedo jacket.

  “You look amazing.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  He motioned to the door and Lila preceded him out of the apartment and down the stairs.

  They hadn’t had a chance to have another private conversation since the one on Monday morning. Still, he’d accepted that she wasn’t going to talk, and he had a new plan. Julia could be the crowned princess of the world that night, and hog up all the family attention to her heart’s delight, because he was a man on a mission. He was going to make sure Lila enjoyed this evening.

  They walked out into the warm night air and she looked up and sighed. “Oh, my gosh! Look at those stars.”

  He peeked at her. “You’ve seen stars before.”

  “Not like this. Not in the city.”

  He took her hand. The gesture had become as natural, as easy as breathing. “Don’t you get out of the city much?”

  “I’ve never been out of the city. I mean, except now. Being here is my first time away from New York.”

  That shocked him, then he wondered why. Her life was compact, filled with purpose. She had to work to support herself. Work was the key to everything for her. His life was filled with purpose, too, and he also believed work was the key to fulfilling his responsibilities. But he had releases, options that she didn’t have. Tonight he would make up for that.

  “Then I’m glad I’m with you when you see the stars.”

  She stopped walking. It looked as if she was going to say something, but she shook her head as if to clear it and started walking again. Disappointment rattled through him, but he was growing accustomed to that now.

  When they stepped onto the sidewalk that led to the back entry to the main house and the corridor that would take them to the ballroom, she did the thing where she pressed herself up against his arm and disappointment turned to disgust.

  At first when she’d cuddled against him, he’d realized she was trying to give people the impression they were close. Now that he was getting to know her and now that they’d held hands and even kissed for real once, it felt fake to him. Really fake. So fake he wondered if that wasn’t the thing that made Julia suspicious about their relationship.

  “What are you doing?”

  She gazed up at him.

  Confusion flickered through him. That adoring expression wasn’t “her” either.

  With other guests milling about the grounds, he couldn’t say anything. But the looks of adoration she gave him as they wove through the crowded ballroom, saying hello, and through dinner only frustrated him. She’d been doing this all along and it had seemed perfect. But tonight it set his nerve endings on edge.

  He didn’t want to entertain this woman. He didn’t want to dance with this woman.

  He wanted to entertain Lila. His assistant. He wanted to make her laugh. He wanted to make her forget whatever problem she had. He wanted her to have some fun.

  * * *

  As dinner concluded and the lights on the dance floor dimmed and the lights on the stage lit, Lila struggled to keep her smile in place. For the past two days, she’d managed to avoid Nanna and stay away from Mitch, spending most of the time in bed.

  The pain of admitting she’d secretly suspected her mom didn’t want to be in her life pressed down on her. She’d tried to tell herself it wasn’t true. That her mother wanted her. Then she asked herself why? Why would her mother want the child who’d turned her in to the authorities?

  And she knew there was no reason.

  Alonzo and Julia danced the first dance. Both sets of parents joined them for the second song. And Lila knew what was coming. When the music started for the third dance, Mitch rose, and she held out her hand to him, like a good fiancée.

  His smile was warm, loving. “Shall we?”

  She matched his sweet smile. Though Julia was far away, there were a hundred other guests to fool, and now more than ever she knew the importance of this ruse. Not only had Mitch saved his family but he wanted to be able to continue to do so. Even without credit. Like a strong Spanish man. In some ways, she thought his sentiment outdated. In other ways, she thought it very cool that he could let his brother have all the attention and his dad meddle to his heart’s delight.

  Her smile for him grew a notch. With everything she learned about Mitch, she liked him a little more. She wanted to help him. “I’d love to dance.”

  He walked her to the dance floor and pulled her into his arms. Lila smiled up at him adoringly, making sure the ruse was in place, and he paused.

  “What do you say we forget about our engagement for one night?”

  She hurriedly glanced around to make sure no one was listening. “You want to break up?”

  He laughed. “No. I want to be us tonight.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Us?”

  “You. Me. Real us. A few times we’ve let our guard down and had a lot of fun. I think I’d like to do that tonight.”

  She tried to answer but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. He’d had fun with her? Not Fake Lila?

  The slow dance finished, but the band immediately began playing another tune. A song she’d never heard.

  He grinned. “Samba.”

  “Oh. Bad timing.” Or good timing for the Lila who was on the dance floor totally confused. She understood him wanting to have a good time. If they did that, they’d look like a real couple, enjoying each other’s company. But she wasn’t in the mood to have real fun. She’d much rather pretend her way through this. “I don’t know how to samba.”

  He caught her hand. “Don’t worry. I do. Just follow me. We start with a box step, then when I push back, you step back. I’ll twirl you a few times. Then we’re back to the box step. Then when I let go of your hand, you just do what I do...turn one way then the other.”

  She gaped at him. “I once tried a Zumba class and had to quit because I have two left feet.”

  He laughed. “Come on. It will be fun.”

  As he pulled her into the typical hold, she noticed everybody was dancing, having fun, and no one was paying any attention to them. She relaxed a bit, especially through the box steps, which were easy.

  Then he lifted his hands from her waist and he took both of her hands. He stepped back and she stepped back. He pulled her close again, then nudged her back again.

  She laughed. She supposed it was fun. And a lot easier than Zumba since he was guiding her.

  He pulled her into the typical dance hold. They did the box step again. Then he twirled her, and laughter bubbled up from a place so deep inside her, she didn’t even know it existed.

  All right. Samba was a lot of fun.

  He twirled her a few more times, then he let go of her hand and he turned in a circle. She followed his lead.

  When he pulled her back into the box step she was laughing. He smiled down at her. “Fun. Right?”

  “Yes,” she admitted reluctantly, worried she’d spend the whole night dancing if he thought he was entertaining her.

  “So relax.” He caught her hands again and did the step back, step forward, step back thing. He brought her into the hold for the box step, then he twirled her.

  Though the dance floor was full of festive dancers, the rest of the world began to disappear.

  She was just plain having fun until he pulled her into the box step hold again and said, “You know, you can swing your hips a bit.”

  She winced. “Swing my hips?”

  “Fun, remember? You’re in Spain. Let go a bit.”

  She’d never, ever, ever had anyone tell
her to let go a bit, but why not? She was with people who would never see her again. With a boss who was about to find her a new job. No one would remember this.

  She relaxed, glanced at the other female dancers, saw that the hip swaying ranged from his mother’s conservative swing to Julia’s unabashedly sensual sway, and she started off with a sway more like his mother’s.

  But then the music sort of took her. It wasn’t an easy dance, but it was predictable and the notes flowed through her. Her sway shifted from hip movement to something that encompassed her whole body.

  And it was really fun.

  The music stopped and the band began to play a flamingo. He quickly explained the steps and they began dancing again.

  When he pulled her in close, he looked into her eyes and said, “You’re a natural.”

  She laughed. “I’ve never been a natural at anything.”

  “How many things have you tried?”

  “Not many.” Because she was always preoccupied with her mistakes, her failures, her longing for her mother to be in her life.

  “So maybe it’s good that you’re here in Spain.”

  “Maybe.”

  “And maybe it’s good we let go again, sí?”

  She smiled. “Sí.”

  This time he laughed. “I will make a Spanish dancer out of you yet.”

  She pulled out of his hold, raised one hand and danced away from him. “Or maybe I’m such a natural at this that I’ll make you look good in front of your friends.”

  “You’ve already managed to make me look like a smarter man to Nanna.”

  “That was easy.”

  “She likes you.”

  “I like her.”

  Suddenly the world felt as if it opened up to her. Without the burden of finding her mother or an unrequited crush on Mitch pressing down on her, she was just herself. Not Real Lila or Fake Lila, just Lila.

  They danced until the band took a break, then they walked to the open bar. She watched the bartender pour wine into a beautiful etched glass flute.

  “Wine is actually very pretty.”

  “Agreed. It’s why there are lots of pictures on our website.”

  She smiled at him. The bartender walked over and he ordered a glass of club soda for her and a beer for himself.

  They strolled around talking to a few family friends, and though Lila didn’t cling to him or hang on to him, she had the sudden impression they were actually more believable than they ever had been as a couple.

  The music began again and they danced to everything the band threw at them. At the end of the set, the music slowed and Mitch pulled her into his arms. She couldn’t stop the urge to melt against him and close her eyes.

  She’d always wondered what life would feel like when she could stop worrying about having her mom in her life. She’d just always thought she’d stop wondering because she would have found her mom and made peace. She’d never once considered the other side of the coin—that she should give up.

  But dancing with Mitch, so close they couldn’t get a strand of yarn between them, she was very aware of everything she’d given up all the years she’d searched for her mom. She had absolutely no idea what she would do when she got home—how things would change. But being done with her quest suddenly felt right.

  When the song was over, he pulled back, studying her face. “You look tired.”

  “The last three days have been a little trying.”

  “Let’s get something to drink, then walk back to the apartment.”

  “But the party’s not over.”

  He shrugged. “We’re also not the guests of honor or the hosts. Alonzo and Julia are having a blast. My parents love entertaining.” He searched her eyes. “And you’re tired.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. Oh, she was tired. So, so tired.

  He took her hand. “Come on.” They walked to the bar where he ordered a club soda for her. Then he paused before saying, “You know what? I’ll have club soda too.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  His head tilted as he looked at her. “What if I want to?”

  “You own a winery. If you’re not going to have a beer you should have a glass of wine.”

  “Unless I want water?”

  She laughed. “Now what are you up to?”

  “Being with you.” He turned when the bartender arrived and took the two club sodas.

  The strangest feeling bubbled up in her. He was sharing her experience. Maybe considering what she felt drinking club soda while everyone else drank wine? It was the oddest way anybody had ever connected with her, yet that’s what she felt—that they were connecting.

  They drank their club soda listening to another samba. When they were done, he set the glasses on the bar, took her hand and led her outside.

  But as soon as they were out of the crowd, on the sidewalk, he let go of her hand, loosened his bow tie and sighed. “That feels better.”

  Nerves flitted through her. “You’re really into being yourself tonight.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah. I am.”

  “Well, in that case.” She stopped and slipped out of the four-inch-heel sandals. When her feet met cool cobblestone, she sighed. “Now that feels better.”

  “So, you are liking being yourself?”

  “A hundred percent.”

  He took the sandals from her, hooking them over the index finger of his left hand. She expected him to catch her hand, if only to keep up the charade. Instead, he strolled along beside her.

  Butterflies filled her. For all the times he’d hugged her, kissed her cheek, put his arm across her shoulders, danced with her, held her hand, this—not touching her—seemed a hundred times more romantic.

  Because he was with her. Not Fake Lila. Not his pretend fiancée. But her.

  They reached the duplex and he opened the door, but before she stepped inside, he scooped her up. “I’m not letting you walk on that floor, those steps, without shoes.”

  Held against his chest, with their faces a few inches apart, she tried to think of something to say but nothing came. The feeling of being held against his chest—of being held, being cared for—shot attraction through her. He was so handsome. So smart. So wonderful. And he was growing to like her.

  His eyes narrowed. “What? You think I can’t make it up the stairs carrying you?”

  She was so busy buzzing with attraction that it had never occurred to her that she might be too heavy to carry up a flight of stairs. Before she could say anything, he laughed and started to run up the steps.

  “I don’t have a gym membership for nothing.” He nodded at the door. “Reach into my jacket pocket and get the keys.”

  Still a little shell-shocked, she found the keys.

  “It’s the one with the green tab.”

  She inserted it into the lock, twisted, and the doorknob turned. With a light shove the door opened.

  Inside the apartment, he caught her gaze and whispered, “Maybe it’s not a good idea for you to walk across this carpet without shoes.”

  “We both did it the other night.”

  He said, “I don’t remember.”

  She knew that he did. That was her first night as Real Lila with him. That was the night she was just about certain he wanted to lure her into his bedroom.

  Her heart thumped in her chest. She could demand that he set her down. But right at this moment, with everything in her life gone—every hope, every wish, every dream—she just didn’t want to be alone anymore.

  He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers. She tightened her hands around his neck, shifting in his arms, getting closer.

  His mouth lifted, then smoothed across hers again before his tongue darted out and she opened for him. Their tongues da
nced and entwined. Her heart rate slowed to a crawl. Everything about the world slimmed down to him and her. And the fact that this was real.

  Actually, the only times he’d kissed her were when she was herself.

  She felt the connection growing. A click of rightness so very different than the click she’d felt when she’d gotten her crush on him.

  This was real Mitch kissing real Lila.

  This was real.

  And for as much as she didn’t want to be alone anymore, she also didn’t want to be hurt.

  Worse, she didn’t want to screw things up with him. She’d ruined her relationship with her mother. She might have been a child, but she’d spent a lifetime paying for that mistake. She didn’t want to spend a lifetime paying for another.

  She pulled away. A lock of his hair had fallen to his forehead. His lips glowed with dew from their kiss. His dark, observant eyes met hers.

  “I think you better put me down.”

  Her voice came out soft and fragile. She knew that was why he instantly heeded her request. When her bare feet met the floor, she almost turned away, but stopped herself and gazed up at him. “If nothing else, I’m going to take some really great memories home with me.”

  Then she left him standing in the sitting room, the way she had the last time he’d kissed her.

  She closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it. A night with him might be worth the broken heart she knew would follow. But this wasn’t the moment to choose. She wasn’t sure when the moment would arrive, but she was fairly certain she’d know it when it came.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE NEXT MORNING Mitch woke Lila with a brisk knock against her door. “Wear something really comfortable today. After our meetings this morning I’m taking you on a tour of the vineyard.”

  He had absolutely no idea what was happening between the two of them. He only knew that he hadn’t had that much fun with a woman in his entire life. And he hadn’t even slept with Lila.

  And he wouldn’t. Oh, sure, they’d been in the preliminary round the night before with that steamy kiss. But something was going on between them. Something special. He wouldn’t ruin it by sleeping with her before she was ready. He also didn’t think he could sleep with her until he knew why she was so sad.