by Tyla Walker
I watch how Grant and Lauralee interact, and a deep part of me feels that I can at least trust Grant. She and Lauralee seem to have clicked.
Despite the awful rumors that I've heard about Grant being a frivolous playboy, I can't help but think that as I get to know him, he's not the man that he projects himself to be.
There seems to be a lot more to him than meets the eye. Just from the way he makes me and my daughter laugh, I can tell that he isn't a bad person.
"Sonya, where was your head at?" Grant asks, breaking me out of my reverie.
"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how this plan just might work," I say, not wanting to get into details about how I was observing him with my daughter.
He gives me a grin that would undoubtedly have any woman's jaw drop.
"Of course, it will. We're the ones who thought of it," he says with utmost confidence.
I give him a smile in response as I tell him, "Well, it's a pleasure to be working with you, Grant."
"Believe me, the pleasure's all mine," he says, giving me a wink.
Why does he have to be so damn cute? I feel like my heart's about to short circuit from all his fucking sexiness. I can see how women fall to his feet. The man, with his blonde hair and beautiful ocean blue eyes, exudes a high amount of sex appeal.
After the plans have been hammered down, he gets the check. I offer to pay half, but he's having none of it.
I decide to concede and let him pay for our meal.
"Where do you live? I can take you home," he offers.
"You don't have to do that," I tell him since I'm more than capable of getting my daughter and me home. I don't want to bother him.
He shakes his head at my statement.
"I know, but I want to. I want to make sure you two get home safely. Besides, it wouldn't be good if I, as your fiancé, doesn't even know where you live," he reasons.
Realizing the logic in his statement, I can only agree. I can see the smirk that plays across his lips at winning the argument.
Smug as he may be, I find it endearing. He opens the door of his car for Lauralee and me.
"You're quite the gentleman," I tell him.
"Born and raised," he replies with a confident smirk on his face. He gets to the driver's seat and takes us home.
"Why do you want to have control over the company so bad?" I ask, unable to keep the curiosity at bay any longer.
He looks contemplative for a moment, slight red coloring on his cheeks appears.
Okay, that does not look suspicious at all.
"It's kind of embarrassing for me to say, but I'll tell you someday. I promise that it isn't anything bad, though," Grant says, assuring me of his good intentions.
"It's alright. I just wanted to make sure," I tell Grant.
"You have nothing to worry about. Trust me," Grant says, eyes fixed on the road ahead.
"I know. Strange as it seems, I feel like I can trust you," I tell Grant.
I see a smile tug at his lips from my words. It makes him look even more handsome. I decide to tear my gaze away from the man that I should only be professional.
"What about you? Did what Lauralee say about your reasons for wanting a promotion true?" he asks.
I glance at the backseat, noting that my daughter is already fast asleep.
I let out a heavy sigh.
"Yes. It's true. It's always been just my daughter and me. I honestly thank my lucky stars that I have been blessed with such a kind and intelligent daughter. Despite always being busy, she just puts on a smile on her face, telling me that she understands. Sometimes, it breaks my heart to see how understanding she can be because I really do want to spend more time with her.
I just get so swamped with work, trying to vie for a promotion, but never getting noticed. When you told me about your plan, I saw it as an opportunity to have a better work-life balance. Normally, I wouldn't be keen on marrying anyone falsely, but your offer seems worth it," I explain at length.
"I couldn't have picked a better person, Sonya. This deal aside, I know that you are brilliant and deserve a higher position. I work the finance of the company, and I know an asset when I see one," he says reassuringly, looking me in the eyes with his own filled with a gentle understanding and seriousness.
I feel a glow of pride erupt from my chest at having my work being recognized, and by the son of my idol no less.
"Thank you, Grant. I appreciate it," I tell him sincerely.
"It's really no problem, Sonya. You deserve it. And I have to tell you, I am amazed at how well you've raised Lauralee despite how busy you are with work," he says.
I chuckle at his praise.
"Believe me, that's all on her own. She's a great kid," I say, glancing back at my daughter lovingly.
"It doesn't change the fact that you're a great mother, Sonya," he says kindly.
"Thanks, Grant. I appreciate it," I reply, needing to have those words being said to me.
I see the familiar corner of our street and tell him to pull over. He gets out of the car and offers to carry Lauralee inside.
I shake my head, and I tell him, "It's fine. You've done more than enough."
He nods, giving me Lauralee to carry.
"Thank you for dinner. It was nice. You're not how I imagined you'd be," I say, having had a great time with him.
He chuckles. "What were you expecting, some spoiled rich brat?"
"Something like that," I say, trying not to laugh at his indignant expression.
He shrugs his shoulders.
"I'm glad I proved you wrong, then," he says, his ocean blue eyes trained on mine. I feel like I can just swim in them.
He moves in closer, catching me off guard as I feel his lips press lightly on my cheek.
"Goodnight, Sonya," he whispers, his hot breath tickling my ear.
"Goodnight," I reply, thankful that my voice remained clear. He surprised me.
I get Lauralee, and we go inside, the night air already chilly.
I change her in pajamas and tuck her in bed. I kiss her forehead softly.
"I love you," I whisper to her softly.
I turn off the lights and head for my own room. Tonight has been quite eventful. I slam my door shut, changing into my own sleepwear.
I sigh as images of Grant's handsome face and sexy smile invade my mind. I feel the familiar twinge of my pussy at those thoughts.
I groan, realizing that I'm horny as fuck just from thinking about Grant.
I try to refocus my thoughts away from the images of Grant. I need to be professional with him. We agreed to do this as it will be mutually beneficial for both of us, but that's it. We're not going to have a real relationship, so I should stop this feeling of attraction that I have towards him.
My eyelids start to get heavy, and just as I sleep, Grant crosses my thoughts yet again. I give in and let those thoughts carry me to where they may as I drift to sleep.
Eight
Grant
I'm driving to my office, a grin threatening to split my face in half. Just a few months from now, I'll be able to have the control of the company that I have so thoroughly desired.
My dreams of making a difference in the world will finally come true. I've always had a soft spot for the needy. I can just imagine the good that it will do just from opening a shelter.
With more money, I'll be able to fund my charity so that it can do more for the people who are in need.
Now, all that is left is to make our plan a success, which is to make my fake love story with Sonya believable to my mother. I need to sell it. Fake it until we make it, so to speak.
I'm not stupid, though. I know that it's going to be a hard sell. My mother didn't get to the very top of her industry without having the ability to sniff out bullshit. My mom might very well have a built-in lie detector in her body with the way she's able to sift lies from the truth.
It might be because my mother has an express talent in reading the body language of others. She once told
me that it's gotten her out of a lot of sketchy deals and whatnot.
I park my car to my designated parking space, running the story in my mind for about the umpteenth time today. It's going to take a hell of a lot of effort to even fool my mother
I walk the familiar halls of our company, braising myself for the conversation that I'll be having with my mother about Sonya.
Finally reaching her office, I let out a sigh outside of the door.
This is it. I can do this.
I grasp the doorknob tightly, letting myself inside the great Gloria Field's office. Still so early in the morning, and yet there she is, dressed pristinely and perfectly as she types away in her laptop.
She doesn't even acknowledge me. I somehow doubt that she even heard the door open. Once she sets herself on work mode, there's little to none that can get my mother's attention.
Luckily for me, being her son, I am, in fact, one of those little things that can still garner her attention.
"Good morning, mother," I say, deciding to greet her first.
The rhythmic clicking of her typing stops. She looks up from her work, glasses perched loosely on the bridge of her nose.
"What is it?" She asks with an underlying warning in her tone that I better not be wasting her time.
That's the thing with my mother. Her time is always precious.
"Can't you even offer your own son a seat?" I ask, letting out a dramatic sigh.
She raises an eyebrow at me.
"Please tell me that this is important and not just one of your whims to get on my nerves," she says, unable to keep the annoyance from her voice.
I chuckle, relishing in ruffling my mother's feathers.
She may act cold at times, but she's still my mother. I know that she loves me despite her demeanor. She sighs, closing her laptop and sets it aside.
See what I mean? At the end of the day, I'm still her son.
"Well, spit it out. Please tell me you didn't do anything stupid," she says, pinching the bridge of her nose for effect.
I smile at the roundabout way of asking if I'm alright. I sit on the chair in front of her desk.
"Well, you see, mother, I have been lying to you for a long time now," I start.
This effectively gets her attention. With a raised eyebrow, she keeps her focus on me, waiting for me to 'confess.'
"What do you think you've been hiding from me, Grant?" she asks with a hint of challenge in her voice.
She's always prided herself in knowing pretty much everything in my social life, which included are some of the scandals that I've done.
"I've actually been seeing someone for a long time. She works here, and you probably know her. I just want you to know that I am ready to marry her. I needed to come clean and tell you this before anyone else," I tell her seriously, hoping that she believes me.
She snorts indignantly.
"You're going to have to give me a name, or else I'm really not going to be inclined to believe you," she says.
I clear my throat. This is it.
"It's actually Sonya, mother. It's Sonya Lynx," I say.
She looks somewhat confused as her brows begin to furrow. No doubt, she's probably trying to riffle through all the Sonya’s that she knows in her head.
"Sonya. As in, one of my designers that's working in administration? That Sonya?" she asks, recognition passing over her eyes.
At least she knows the Sonya that I am referring to. This makes things at least a bit easier.
"Yes, mother. That Sonya. The woman that you've been treating like an assistant despite being brilliant at what she does," I reply.
She seems to be contemplating for a minute, an air of silence between us.
"How did you two meet?" she asks.
"In the office. I just couldn't help but notice her, Mom. She is an exquisite and exotic beauty with the brains to match," I answer immediately, earning a skeptic look from her.
She gives me one of her catty smiles, almost as though she's calling my bluff.
"Last chance to tell me that this is all a ruse," she states.
I try to muster an affronted look.
"I finally tell you that I've fallen in love and that I'm getting married, but you think that I'm doing this as some sort of a ruse?" I ask, faking my indignation.
Damn it. My mother really is good. Or maybe, she thinks that I can't stay committed to one person because of my playboy persona?
It doesn't change that I need to get her to believe me, though.
She simply smirks.
"Then why haven't I seen her wearing an engagement ring? Have you already proposed to her?" she asks.
Of all the things that my mother remembers about Sonya, it had to be her clothes and accessories, or the lack thereof a ring on her finger. She isn't a fashion goddess for nothing.
I press on, refusing to be deterred.
"I proposed last night. She said yes," I say seriously.
Damn it. I need to get her a ring and fast. If my mother notices that she doesn't have a ring on today at work, shit is going to hit the fan.
She hums thoughtfully at my statement, not even congratulating me of my impending nuptials.
I'm sure that she still doubts me.
"Alright. If you say so, then I'll believe you for now. However, I would very much like to have lunch with the two of you. I want to get to know Sonya better," she tells me.
I feel a hint of triumph, a smile adorning my face at being given a chance.
Before I can think, I find myself agreeing to her request.
"Tomorrow," she says.
The smile drops slightly at how soon she wants to meet with Sonya. There's not much time to rehearse what we're going to say.
However, to prevent her from getting suspicious, I agree.
"Well, good then. Tomorrow at lunch, it is," she says, taking out her laptop once more to continue her work.
I immediately rush out of her office.
I need to find a ring. It needs to be damn expensive, so my mother wouldn't even think that none of what Sonya and I have is real.
Sonya. That's right. I need to inform her about tomorrow.
I dial her number, hoping that she answers. She isn't due to come to work for another three hours.
Hello? I hear Sonya's voice through my phone. I feel relieved that she answered.
"Mother wants to meet you tomorrow for lunch. But don't worry, I'll be there with you," I say in a hurry, already walking to my car to get the blasted ring.
Okay? Sure. Why not? Sonya says, but I can hear a hint of nervousness in her voice.
"Hey, it's going to be fine. I'll be with you. Tonight, we can go over the details of our relationship so that our stories match. And look at it this way, she'll definitely know who you are by tomorrow after lunch," I tell her, reassuringly.
I can hear her sighing over the other end.
Yeah. Alright. Sonya says.
"And by the way, there's one more thing. I'm buying you a ring. My mother noticed that you weren't wearing an engagement ring in the past couple of days. I told her that I just proposed to you last night. I'll get you the ring before tomorrow. In the meantime, try to not let her see your hand," I say in a hurry.
She chuckles. I don't think that's going to be a problem. She tells me before dropping the call.
I wonder what kind of ring I'll get for her.
Nine
Sonya
I'm dumbstruck as I put the phone down after speaking with Grant.
What the hell did just happen?
His mother, Gloria Fields, would like to meet us for lunch tomorrow.
Apparently, Grant already told her about our pseudo-relationship and our plans of getting married. Either she believed all that Grant said, or she's setting up a trap to catch Grant's lies.
One way or the other, I'm nervous as hell.
My anxiety rises as I feel a thousand butterflies ruffling through my stomach. I feel like I want to vomit. I even think about skippi
ng work today, but that could look suspicious to Gloria.
As soon as I arrive at work, I try to busy myself with everything that needs to be done. Good thing that I've got a lot of meetings today, it'll help take my mind of what's going to happen tomorrow.
Following Grant's advice, I do my very best not to cross paths with Gloria. Not only because she might see my ringless finger, but I also don't want to be ambushed by any questions since Grant, and I haven't gotten our stories aligned yet.
I step out of the conference room as I finish one of my meetings. I'm about to go down the building to take a quick lunch when my office phone rings. Thinking it's important, I pick up the phone.
"Sonya Lynx speaking, how may I help you?" I answer cheerfully despite being drained.
Grant's voice comes out from the other end of the line.
"Sonya! Good thing I was able to catch you," he tells me.
"You'll be heaven sent if you're going to tell me that our lunch tomorrow's canceled," I blurt out.
Grant lets out a small laugh.
"You wish," he says. "But you know my mother, anything she says is the law. So that'll push through come what may."
"I know," I say dejectedly. "I was kind of hoping something more important came in, so we have to reschedule. You know, like maybe a meeting with Kate Middleton or something."
"Hey, I'm important to my mother," he defends. "Plus, she's not a big fan of the British Royalty."
"If you say so," I reply. "So why did you call?"
"Oh, yeah, about that. I just wanted to ask you out for some dinner after work? So that we can finalize the story that we'll be selling to my mother. We need to be solid, any small crack that she'll notice will be the start of our demise," he explains.
I pause for a while as I consider his invitation. I really wanted to spend some time with Lauralee this evening, but I know that his suggestion makes sense.
