by Autumn, Kyle
Except I exit the bathroom and find breakfast in bed. A glass of orange juice, two slices of peanut butter toast, and a small bowl of strawberries. And an identical tray for him.
“I’ll be right back with your coffee,” he says as I sit on the bed, still speechless. Then he kisses me and exits the room.
All I can do is pick up a piece of toast and take a bite. My autopilot leads me that far before he’s back with two steaming mugs.
“Sugar, no cream—just you how like it,” he says with a big grin, setting mine on my tray.
When I don’t say anything—partly because the peanut butter has my mouth glued shut and partly because I’m still stunned by his kind gesture—he flourishes a hand toward the bed.
“Get back on the bed. Make yourself comfortable, and eat. Please.” His lips shake a little as his smile shrinks slightly. Perhaps from nervousness?
No. That can’t be. Yes, he’s talked a big talk and made a big show of this. But it’s just because it’s in his best interest to get me to the party. Guarding my heart has never been more important than it is right now. I shouldn’t convince myself of something that isn’t there. So I need to stop reading into things.
But I do as he asked anyway. Because, believe it or not, I actually like being around him. When he’s gentle, sweet, and, well, making me come, he’s pretty tolerable. More than tolerable, if I’m honest. So I get comfortable on the bed again, and he places the tray over me before joining me on his side of the bed.
“Try these strawberries,” he says, snatching one from my bowl and bringing it to my lips. “They’re incredible.”
I open my mouth to take a bite, and the sweetness of the strawberry hits my taste buds. Around the mouthful, I moan my delight and surprise. Chaz wipes a bit of juice from my lips and raises a sexy eyebrow. Then he cups my chin.
“You are always so sensual,” he tells me gently, “even when you don’t mean to be.” His eyes shine bright with—
Nope. It doesn’t matter what I think I see. Or what he tells me to keep me around. Walls have to go up, and they need to go up now.
I pull my chin away from his grip and put my toast down. So I can speak, I take a sip of the orange juice. “Thanks for breakfast.”
His shoulders slump as he exhales. “I take it you’re leaving,” he deadpans.
“Thanks for the dress too. And the cleaning service. You really…” But I pause and clear my throat before my voice cracks. “You didn’t have to do that,” I say as I scoot out from under the tray. Once I’m standing, I look at him. “I’ll just see you on Friday, okay?”
And then I rush out the door.
Chapter 11
Shiree
Chaz gave me the rest of my weekend to cool off. He didn’t come after me, call, or push to get me back to his house. But, on Monday morning, his business address is on my list of deliveries for the day. I check to make sure I don’t need to make any flower pickups before I take off.
Nope. No flowers today. It must be an actual delivery. Something real. Hopefully something business-related. Or maybe it’s not even for him. Maybe I won’t even need to see him. That’d take a lot of pressure off.
Yet I can’t ignore the stab in my heart at the thought of not seeing him today. Which is ridiculous. I’ve known this man for less than a week, and we didn’t even like each other for half the time. Well, I didn’t like him. He’s been trying to make it seem like he has feelings for me. But it’s entirely too soon. It has to be. Doesn’t it?
Before I take off in my delivery truck, Lyra stops me.
“Hey! I was worried about you all weekend,” she says. “I tried texting you yesterday, but you didn’t reply.”
“Oh.” I lean against the side of the truck, “I didn’t see it until late last night. I figured we’d just see each other today.”
“Everything okay?” she asks, concern marring her brow. “You always text back.”
My hesitation gives me away.
“Oh my god. Don’t even tell me. Is it about Charles Masters?” His name came out sounding all fancy.
Again, my hesitation gives me away.
“Girl!” she practically squeals. “He has you all tongue-tied. What the hell happened?”
“Calm down,” I warn. “Someone’s going to hear you.”
“Psh. Everyone else is gone. Spill!” She gestures with her hands in a come-on motion.
“Ugh. Fine.” I tell her everything. All about the night he came to my house. His board’s fake engagement party to show the world he’s a changed man. The dress he insisted on buying me. The night I went to his house. Each and every orgasm.
She’s my best friend. And I need to get an opinion if only to get out of my own head. It’s not a good place to be right now.
“So let me get this straight,” she says when I’m done. “He wants to be in a pretend relationship with you for his company while actually trying to be in a relationship with you?”
“No. That’s the thing.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I think it’s really a fake relationship all the way around. But he’s acting like he likes me so I won’t ruin this for his future with his company.”
Lyra shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s what’s going on her, Shiree.”
“That’s exactly what’s going on,” I inform her. “I mean, come on. He’s a billionaire. I deliver packages and won’t ever make the amount of money he makes in a year in my entire lifetime.”
“So what?” she says, cocking a hip. “Think about it. What man, billionaire or not, would make a woman breakfast in bed if he didn’t really care?”
“Well,” I start, but nothing else comes out. “I mean…”
“See?” She winks at me and turns to walk away. But then she stops. “Hey,” she says, all serious now. “This could be exactly what you want. Don’t mess this up.” With that, she takes off for her own delivery truck.
I’m left in a daze. Have I been making excuses to keep my walls up? Is he really into me? He can’t be. No way. I don’t care what Lyra says. These walls have to stay up. Because, even if he somehow wants a relationship with someone like me, it’ll never work. We’re way too different. That kind of life isn’t for me. I wouldn’t do well in the spotlight, and he would never be okay with my simple existence. Nothing good could come from letting my walls down and allowing him in.
With those thoughts in mind, I head off for my deliveries. By the afternoon, when I make my stop at Chaz’s office, I feel like I’m drowning in thoughts. Because, like I said, my own head is not a good place to be. I thought a talk with my best friend would help, but it only made it a thousand times worse.
To bypass the receptionist, I lift the package in her direction. She must remember me from last week, because she smiles and points toward the elevators, which I enter and hit the button for the twenty-third floor. On the way up, my stomach starts to flutter. He might be up there. And I haven’t seen him in more than twenty-four hours.
That’s my fault. I left in a rush, but I’m so confused. It’s better to keep it professional. I made an agreement, and I’ll stick with it. But the less we see each other, the better.
Except that I also bypass Janet and head straight for Chaz’s office with the package. Like an idiot who doesn’t care if her heart gets smashed. When I reach his door, I don’t even knock. I walk right in and find him on the phone. So I set the package on his desk, spin around, and head toward the door.
“That’s fine, Darren. Thanks so much,” Chaz says before hanging the phone up. “Wait, Shiree. I have something for you.”
His command stops me in my tracks. I spin back around and face him, wondering what he could possibly need to give me. When I put a hand on my hip, he reaches into a drawer in his desk and removes a small box.
“Here,” he says, coming around the side of his desk. “You should have these.” Then he sits on the edge of his desk and opens the box, and the bright shine of diamonds almost blinds me.
Inside the box are a
necklace with enough diamonds to cover a dinner plate, a matching bracelet, and dangly earrings all fit for a princess. But that’s not what truly catches my attention. My gaze is stuck on the largest diamond ring I’ve ever seen in my entire life.
Once I’ve picked my jaw up off the floor and blinked a few times, I say, “What am I supposed to do with these?”
“Wear them to our engagement party, of course,” he informs me, grinning. “They should perfectly complement the dress we picked out.” He sets the box down and removes the ring. “Except this one. This one should be put on immediately and worn at all times.” His white teeth shine almost as brightly as the diamonds on the jewelry he’s giving me as he takes my left hand in his. “My fiancée needs to wear my ring.”
“Even your fake fiancée?” I ask, still partially in shock over the size of this ring. I may not be able to lift packages while wearing this thing.
“My fiancée—period.” He pushes the ring onto my finger. “This box was always meant for her.”
When I pull my gaze from the ring and it lands on him, my shock transforms into a different type. Does he look sincere? I think he does. But my thoughts—and my heart—cannot be trusted.
I blink hard to clear my head and then hold my free hand out for the box. He closes it and hands it to me. So I take my other hand back. Then I hold the box close to my body and nod.
“I’ll take good care of it and give it back to you on Friday,” I say before turning to leave.
“I don’t believe that’ll be necessary,” he tells my back.
Again, I freeze and then spin back to face him. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” he asks, the picture of innocence.
“Make this sound real,” I say quietly so no one in his office will hear about our charade.
“But this is—”
“No. No, it’s not,” I tell him, shaking my head. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d stop acting like it is. Let’s just get through this week, okay?” I try to cross my arms over my chest, but the jewelry box gets in the way, so I let them fall back to my sides in a huff.
He opens his mouth to say something, but then he looks over my shoulder and shuts his lips. He nods instead. “Okay. We’ll get through this week.”
I return his nod even though I’m stunned by his easy compliance. Until I face the door and see Blake in the doorway. That makes a lot more sense.
“Blake,” I say in greeting as I pass him.
“Miss James,” he replies, tipping his head a little and eyeing the jewelry box in my hand.
That’s our only interaction as I make my way toward the elevators to get back to work. During the journey down, I mostly stare at the new ring on my finger. Wearing this “at all times” like Chaz said is going to cause a lot of questions. Probably some drama. Which is crap I don’t have time for. But he can’t afford to have someone questioning why his fiancée isn’t wearing an engagement ring. It’s not like he doesn’t have more than enough money to buy one. And any woman engaged to a man like him would die for a ring like this.
For some reason, though, I don’t think this is just any rich man’s fiancée’s ring. The light in his eyes when he put it on my finger didn’t seem phony, and his refusal of the box being returned felt genuine. Which is why I stopped him. Because my heart can’t hear any more of his words when they seem all too real to me. This ring is enough of a reminder that I’m already in too deep.
Plus, he gave in so easily. He let me win that argument so fast. So I truly must be mistaken. None of his words or actions can be trusted, and I can’t even trust my own gut.
What have I gotten myself into?
***
Chaz
“You gave her your grandmother’s diamonds?” Blake asks in disbelief.
“Don’t give me that look,” I tell him, getting up from my desk and walking around it to my chair. “I know exactly what I’ve gotten myself into—Shiree James. And she’s delicious.”
His eyes widen. “Honestly, I don’t even want to know if you mean that literally. You need to shut this shit down, Chaz. I mean…” He squints and puts his hands out to his sides. “Your grandmother’s diamonds? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously.” I sit at my desk and smooth my tie out. “I’m serious about her. She’s a firecracker, and I’m already in too deep now.”
“Those aren’t your best reasons to keep fucking someone.” Then he points to the door. “Especially a package delivery woman.”
“Don’t even start. You’re the one who suggested I go after the next woman I saw. You can’t be upset that she’s the one when you made the rules, my friend.” I type my password into my computer and keep speaking before Blake can respond. “And we’re not just fucking, but that happens to be amazing too. Just like she is.” I grin at him, too elated that my woman is wearing my ring—even if she doesn’t believe it yet.
He rubs a hand over his mouth. “My god, Chaz. You’re gonna fuck this whole thing up, aren’t you? The plan was to get a woman to the party. Not get too involved with a woman who’ll end up pissed at you before you can get her to the party!”
I grab the box Shiree dropped off for me. “It’s gonna be fine, man. Trust me, okay?”
“Hey. I’m not the one who has everything to lose,” he says.
“What do I have to lose?” I ask. “She’ll be at the party, and then I’ll make sure she stays with me for the rest of my life. It’s not like she wants me for my money or the materialistic things I can provide for her. She’ll see me for me.”
“You don’t think she already does? The filthy-rich manwhore who couldn’t possibly be on her level? I’m pretty sure she knows exactly who you are.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I inform him. “A man can change, and she makes me want to give that shit up. Being with her would be more than enough.”
He takes a deep breath as his features become serious—even more so than before. “I distinctly remember you saying the same thing about Shannon way back when.”
For a moment, I freeze. That name is like nails on a chalkboard to me, but we’re not going there today. “She’s not Shannon,” I grit out.
“That’s what you think now,” he mutters before he leaves my office, waving a dismissive hand at me and then closing the door.
Not even Blake is going to take my happiness away. I went more than a full day without seeing her and it just about killed me. So having been in her presence is the fix I needed. But she’s out in the world, wearing my ring. That is enough to make me high as a kite. Happy as a clam. Nothing Blake or a mention of Shannon can kill.
I saw that look in her eye. That glimmer of hope that this isn’t just a charade. Which it’s absolutely not. One way or another, this is going straight past Friday and well into the rest of our lives. I won’t have it any other way. Because she isn’t like Shannon. And she won’t ever be. I just know it.
So she better get used to it.
Chapter 12
Chaz
I gave her the night to let it all sink in. Because, though I don’t want to admit it, Blake was kind of right. The last thing I need is to infuriate her so much that she doesn’t come to the party on Friday. My immediate endgame is to keep my job. So I left her alone last night.
While I made plans to make her a permanent fixture in my life. Like tonight. We’ll actually go to dinner like we originally planned. But I’m not taking her to the finest restaurant money can buy within a fifty-mile radius. No, I’m going to take her to a restaurant she’ll be comfortable with. Somewhere we can talk and really get to know each other.
Like a stalker, I called Mr. Mendez over at NatEx to see when Shiree would be finished with work today. So I know to be at her house at six to surprise her with our date. However, when Jay pulls into her driveway, her car isn’t here. I’m confident she’ll be home shortly though, so I instruct him to drop me off. Then I sit on her porch and wait.
And wait. And wait.
For two hours.
It’s almost dark by the time she shows up. Which doesn’t leave us with enough time for our date if she wants to go to sleep at a reasonable time. But, if I have it my way, we won’t do a lot of sleeping anyhow. Neither tonight nor the rest of our nights together.
Though tonight’s lack of sleep might be due to some arguing.
“Where have you been?” I ask her as soon as she’s out of her car.
“Uh,” she starts, putting her purse over her shoulder, “that’s not the first question that needs to be answered. That honor goes to: What the hell are you doing here?”
I stand up. “I’m here because we’re going on that date we’ve talked about. Remember dinner?”
When she reaches her porch, she puts a hand on her hip. “I do remember talking about dinner.”
“Right. I asked, and you said yes.”
“Right.” She crosses her arms over her chest now. “But we said nothing about tonight. And I’ve already eaten now.
“Okay, then. Dinner tomorrow?” I ask, trying to be flexible.
“Fine. Tomorrow,” she says, brushed past me to unlock her front door. “I’ll see you then.”
Oh, she misunderstood. I’m not leaving just because we’re not going to dinner tonight. So I follow her through the door, which she tries to close while I’m still in the doorway, but I stop it from hitting me.
“What are you doing?” she asks. “I said we’re not going to dinner tonight.”
I open the door and close it behind me. “That doesn’t mean we can’t spend some time together.”
“It does, actually.” She throws her purse on her couch. “Tonight isn’t a good night, okay? Just go.”
