by Tia Wylder
Jasmine hummed to herself as she sorted through the clothes, stopping short as she came to a simple chest in the back corner. She quirked a brow, opening the lid and reddening upon seeing the lacy underwear inside. Of course, it was just her size as well. She tried not to think about the fact that Mark likely bought them with the intent of seeing her wearing them. It wasn’t an unappetizing thought in and of itself, but she didn’t just know how far this girlfriend act was intended to go. She grabbed a matching set of underwear, a simple black lace set, and shimmied out of her current clothes. She stepped into the undergarments, taking a slight thrill in how they hugged her curves. Eventually, she selected a bright red dress with a slit running up the leg for the evening. She looked at the mirror, reveling in how the dress contrasted with the dark tones of her hair. She pulled it on, and it fit her just like a second skin. She was surprised at just how well the garment fit her, as even searching within her size, she’d always had trouble finding a good fit.
“Miss Jasmine! Daddy said the babysitter is here, whenever you’re ready,” Jenny piped out from outside the door, startling Jasmine out of her reverie. She took a moment to fix her hair before stepping out, smiling down at Jenny. The young girl’s eyes widened upon seeing her nanny so dolled up, and she clapped her hands together in excitement. “You look so pretty,” she said with a big grin. Jasmine smiled shyly, reaching out to ruffle the girl’s hair.
“Thank you. I can only hope your daddy feels the same,” she chuckled. Jenny rolled her eyes, taking Jasmine by the hand and tugging her towards the hall.
“He’ll be knocked clean out of his socks!” Jenny announced, all but dragging Jasmine downstairs. The older woman struggled to keep pace with the young girl, nearly having to jog to remain in step at her side. “Daddy! Daddy!” Jenny called out, and Mark stepped out of the dining area with a smile.
“Yes, hon-,” he began, cutting himself short as his eyes roved Jasmine’s body. A surge of heat cycled through her body, and she nervously averted her eyes. She wasn’t sure she could handle the intensity of his stare any longer, but he soon stepped forward and took her by the hands. “Jasmine, you look beautiful,” he murmured warmly, and Jasmine felt that her heart might beat right out of her chest. She smiled sincerely, fixing her attention on the lapels of Mark’s shirt. She flattened them out, nervously tilting her head up to consider his expression. He looked nothing short of love-struck, his eyes glimmering with desire and adoration. Jasmine swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, managing to find her voice.
“I suppose you’re ready to leave, Mark?” She asked with a small smile. He simply stared at her for a moment longer, brought to attention by his daughter clearing her throat loudly.
“Of course. I’ve arranged for a limousine to take us to our destination, it should be waiting outside,” he said in a rush, taking Jasmine by the arm and guiding her to the door. He paused before leaving, considering the babysitter who couldn’t have been much older than sixteen. “The emergency numbers are on the refrigerator. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need something,” he said kindly. The teenager smiled awkwardly, her cheeks flushed and eyes dark with envy as she watched the two step out the door. Jasmine couldn’t blame her for being jealous, though the entire thing was a farce. It was a wonderful act, however, one she couldn’t imagine she would ever tire being part of. The limousine was just as luxurious as she might have expected, and the driver stepped out to open the doors for the two of them. Jasmine stepped inside, with Mark close behind her. They sat side by side, their knees touching though there was plenty of space to spread out. Mark wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and it felt strangely comfortable.
“This feels… right,” Jasmine murmured, reddening and wishing she could take the words back as soon as they left her lips. Mark seemed thrilled by the confession, smiling a dopey smile and leaning in to kiss her forehead affectionately.
“Well, I do aim to please,” he murmured. The ride was a short one, and in retrospect, the limousine seemed a little exorbitant and unnecessary, though she supposed Mark was intent upon impressing her. They stepped out, and Mark slipped a wad of bills to the limo driver, instructing him to circle around town until he called for him to return. The older man nodded, driving away as Mark and Jasmine stepped away from the car.
“I get the idea that you’re wealthy, but this seems… extreme,” Jasmine hummed, receiving a soft chuckle in return.
“Well, when you’re the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company, you tend to enjoy the finer things in life,” he said dismissively. Jasmine’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates, and she felt suddenly small at the side of the impressive man. It was a wonder that he saw anything in her, especially enough for him to be treating her so kindly. She could only muse that he felt sorry for her, there was no way that a man like him could ever want for company. “Please, don’t be intimidated. I’m just your average friendly billionaire,” he muttered, and Jasmine could have guffawed at the lack of irony in his tone.
“It’s just… why me? You could have your choice of any woman in the world, it seems. I know we’re not truly dating, but…,” she trailed off as he paused, guiding her to meet his gaze.
“Don’t question it, love. Just go with the flow. You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” He inquired softly.
“Of course. This is the most exciting night of my life, and the time I’ve spent with you and your daughter has been a dream,” she asserted. He smiled, brushing his thumb to the corner of her lips. Warmth flooded through her body at the tender touch, and when he drew away, it seemed all too soon.
“Well, I’m enjoying myself as well. Come on, we have a reservation. I couldn’t convince them to clear their bookings for the night, though I suppose an establishment has their reputation to consider. Unfortunately, we won’t have quite the privacy I had hoped for,” Mark muttered, drawing her towards a table towards the back of the restaurant. The lights were dim, the tables adorned with candles and roses. The soft sound of a piano echoed through the entire establishment, a hauntingly beautiful melody that sent shivers down Jasmine’s spine.
“God, Mark, I wouldn’t expect you to book out the entire restaurant just for the two of us,” she said idly, taking in the atmosphere of the establishment. The tantalizing aroma of seared beef floated under her nostrils, and she had to swallow a moan at the scent alone. She couldn’t begin to imagine how amazing the food would taste.
“You don’t know me very well, yet, love. You’ll learn that my dates never have to settle for second best,” he teased, pulling her chair out for her. Her heart gave a pang of longing at the gesture, and she couldn’t help but find herself wishing this was more than a play date. Of course, Mark would want nothing from her besides a bit of fun, a touch of the company. Once her contract was over, she could imagine he’d be dating models, rich women who fit the lifestyle Mark was trying to fit her into. She breathed a sigh as he took his seat, and he rested his chin in his palm, watching her with a curious expression. “You seem troubled. Is this too much, too soon? We could have gone for pizza, or..,” he babbled, and Jasmine reached out to caress his cheek. He fell silent, and she reddened at the amorous look he had fixed upon her.
“It’s just… I’ve said it once, and I’ve said it again. This whole arrangement seems too good to be true,” she whispered. Mark quirked a brow, reaching out to take her by the hand. He lifted it towards his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the back of her knuckles. She shuddered with the desire she was trying so desperately to contain, and he released her with a cocky grin.
“Let me be your fantasy, Jasmine,” he purred. Her eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment, but he quickly shifted gears as their waiter approached. “Yes, I would like to start with a bottle of your finest vintage wine,” he said with a smile. He glanced to Jasmine, his eyes shining with mirth and something she couldn’t quite identify. “Does that sound alright to you, Jas?” He asked with a sly smile. Jasmine felt as if her heart were hammering at the
speed of light, but she managed to swallow her uncertainty just enough to speak.
“That sounds… perfect,” she managed. A glass or two of wine wouldn’t render her too helpless. It wasn’t as if Mark would exploit her.
She hoped, at least.
Chapter Four
They’d been waiting some time for their wine, and Jasmine could tell that Mark was already growing irate. He tapped his fingers on the tabletop, craning his neck to watch each waiter or waitress as they passed. She reached out to grip his hand, smiling gently to soothe him. He didn’t seem the type to get testy so easily, but she supposed every man had a temper. Truthfully, she was enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant enough that she could have waited a good bit longer and been unbothered. However, when it seemed Mark was ready to blow his top, the waiter from before stepped towards them with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He set them on the table, turning to Mark and seeming to realize how agitated the billionaire had grown.
“I’m so sorry for the wait, I had to step into the wine cellar, and this bottle was towards the back. I wanted to be sure I got the right thing, I-I’m sorry. This is my first night here,” the young man sputtered. Mark drew his lip back in a sneer, but Jasmine tightened her grip on his hand.
“It’s fine, sweetheart. I think we’re ready to order, aren’t we, Mark?” She said awkwardly, trying to defuse the situation. His hand quaked in her own, but he took a moment to pull himself together. He offered the waiter a smile, shoving a few twenties into the young man’s pocket.
“She’s right, don’t worry, kid. Go ahead, Jas, I need to look at the menu for just a moment longer,” Mark said carefully, his eyes locked on someone just behind the waiter’s shoulder. Jasmine watched him curiously for a moment before turning to face the waiter to order. She tried to follow Mark’s gaze while she placed her order, finding that the only thing her pretend boyfriend could be staring at was a tall and willowy blonde near the entrance of the building.
“I’ll take the filet mignon, medium rare,” she said absently, feeling irritation brew in her gut. She knew she was only playing a part, but for the man to stare at another woman so blatantly in front of her? It seemed she would have to step up her game, a bit.
“An excellent choice, ma’am. And you, sir?” The waiter prompted nervously. Mark’s eye twitched, and Jasmine could only wonder what on Earth had him so worked up.
“The same. Rare,” Mark said sharply. Then, he drew his eyes away from the woman and met Jasmine’s gaze. She struggled not to look angry, but she couldn’t deny she felt a bit scorned now. The waiter shuffled away without another word, seeming to take the cue that he wasn’t wanted at that moment.
“Mark, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been tense ever since… ever since you started watching that woman over there,” she said sourly, only for Mark to look as if he had been stricken. She worried as his cheeks flushed a bright red.
“I’m… sorry. It’s not… God, it’s not what you think. That’s my ex-wife. She’s had it out for me ever since the divorce finalized, and I just… I really hope she doesn’t try to ruin our evening together,” he blurted. Jasmine felt as if her heart dropped into her stomach, and she reached out to guide Mark’s attention towards her.
“Oh, Mark. You don’t have to worry. I know how divorces can be. She probably won’t even notice us, though. Like you told me, just try to enjoy yourself,” she said gently. He hesitated before slowly nodding his head. He poured a glass of wine for both and raised his glass. She raised her glass as well, though she had no idea what they were toasting.
“To us, and the future,” he grinned. Jasmine smiled awkwardly, clinking their glasses together.
“Cheers,” they both said before taking a sip from their respective glasses. Jasmine rumbled in delight, the taste of the wine dancing across her palate. She turned back the wine glass, swallowing the rest of the wine in big gulps. Mark watched her with an amused expression, and she realized abruptly how rude she was acting.
“S-sorry. I’ve never really had the opportunity to drink wine before. At least, not good wine,” she explained weakly.
“It’s fine, love,” he murmured, giving a slight pause. “I just hope you’re aware of how absolutely darling you are,” he continued, swishing the wine in his glass before taking a sip.
“Oh, hush. I must look like alcoholic chugging this expensive vintage. How much is it per bottle, anyway?” Jasmine demanded, examining the bottle for clues. Mark reached out to take the bottle from her grip, pouring her another glass with a cheeky smile.
“It’s worth every penny if I get to see you absolutely plastered,” he teased. Jasmine snickered, her unease at getting drunk slipping away somewhat. She was certain that Mark wouldn’t do anything horrible to her, and if he were to make a move on her, it wouldn’t exactly be received badly.
“It’ll take more than two glasses of wine, I hope you know,” she hummed, sipping from her glass in a ladylike manner. Mark grinned, sliding the bottle of wine across the table to her. “Oh, you have to be kidding me. I’d look like a total drunk,” she laughed, gripping the bottle. He tilted his head adorably, beginning to clap his hands on the table.
“Come on, Jas. Chug! Chug! Chug,” he said as loudly as he was able while managing to retain what privacy they still had. Jasmine rolled her eyes, bringing the bottle to her lips and tipping it back. She could feel Mark’s eyes upon her, watching her in morbid fascination. She supposed he had never seen a woman chug a whole bottle of wine before. Well, she’d had a good bit of practice with alcohol in her lifetime. As she swallowed the last drop, she placed the bottle down on the table and quirked a brow daringly.
“You just drank ten thousand dollars,” Mark said, his voice filled with awe. Jasmine choked on her own saliva, staring at him through wide and pleading eyes.
“Tell me you’re kidding. Jesus Christ, it was good, but not that good!” She blurted loudly, drawing the attention of the nearby patrons of the restaurant. She reddened, sinking down into her seat until the interest waned.
“Oh, I’m not joking. That was a ten-thousand-dollar bottle of wine. Don’t worry too much about that, however. I’ve spent much more on things with much less entertainment value,” he grinned. Jasmine remained silent, her mind spinning from spending more than twenty bucks on a bottle of wine. Well, she supposed it could also be spinning due to the amount of alcohol she’d drank in such a brief period. A giggle bubbled past her lips, and she slumped in her seat as the waiter approached with their food.
“Oh god, I don’t even think I can eat after that,” she said, slurring her words slightly. Mark quirked a brow, watching her with a cocky smile.
“Oh, come on. Don’t try and be all ladylike now. You lost your chance at that when you chugged that wine like a frat boy with a kegger,” he grinned. Jasmine mused that she might have been offended, or even embarrassed, but she couldn’t think past the pleasant haze that was beginning to settle in her thoughts. She slumped further in her seat, smiling slyly at the man across the table. Mark watched her curiously, and she decided that she would rather like to see him lose his cool in a much more pleasant manner than before. She unfolded her legs underneath the table, slipping her heel off of her foot and stroking her stocking clad foot up the inside of Mark’s leg. His eyes widened almost comically, and he slammed into the table in his shocking attempt to draw away.
“What, you don’t want to play?” Jasmine teased, not even bothering to feign an interest in the delectable food that had been placed on the table. Mark hesitated, looking around the immediate area to see if anyone was watching. He breathed a sigh, settling back into his seat and brushing his foot against hers. She giggled, unaware of the woman approaching the table until she was nearly on top of them.
“Mark Stanford, of all the bastards I could have come across,” the blonde murmured, looking at Jasmine with a quirked brow. “And is this your current plaything?” She inquired mockingly. Mark sat up in his seat, his expression grew angry once
more.
“Deborah, I’m asking you nicely. Leave us to our meal, and go drain the life out of some other man,” he growled. Jasmine’s eyes widened in amusement, but the woman seemed nonplussed by his retort.
“Oh, Marky Mark. Don’t ever change. Oh, wait. It doesn’t seem you plan to anytime soon. Already fooling around with another girl?” Deborah hummed, leaning in all too closely to get a better look at Jasmine. Jasmine flinched away, the alcohol clouding her brain making her motions slow and sloppy. “A pleasure to meet you, darling. I’m Deborah Lane, Mark’s ex-wife,” she said cordially. Jasmine’s mouth fell agape, and as she struggled to formulate a response, Mark was already snapping at the woman again.
“The divorce finalized ages ago, Deb. Shouldn’t you be moving on by now? Like you’ve moved on from our daughter, apparently?” He bit out coldly. The woman looked taken aback at that comment, turning narrowed eyes upon the angry billionaire.
