Nothing But Trouble

by Ashley Bostock

  “This isn’t a good idea, Michael.” As she said this, she couldn’t help but find comfort against his body and revel in the smooth skin of his cheek brushing against hers as they moved around the dance floor. He had a firm grip on her lower back and the way she could feel his mouth against her ear as he spoke sent tingles between her legs.

  Yet, all those good things didn’t stop her from worrying. She worried about her life, her grandma, her job. There was no way they could pull this off and have it simply go away in a month. Not with who he was. Especially not if the press caught wind of her job. There would be heavy consequences. Mainly for him. She, after all, was just a girl trying to survive the only way she knew how. Doing what she could to make ends meet and provide for her grandma and herself. The gala, tonight, the limo, the sexiest man she’d ever met and officially the most-intriguing, was a dream far beyond her reach. Something a woman like her didn’t generally get to experience.

  She was okay with that, too. She didn’t have to be rich and famous. She knew who she was and where she belonged. She was willing to work hard for what she wanted. Not to say Michael and all the people in attendance tonight didn’t work hard. It was just a different kind of hard. She believed once you crossed a certain societal class, making money was easy. The rich getting richer and all that.

  “Give me one good reason why this can’t work. For a single month.”

  “Well, I don’t know what you have in mind, but I have a grandma I need to take care of, a life. And you, you’re a workaholic.”

  “Exactly. And I’m not looking to get married. Ever. So, after one month, we can go our separate ways. You can still live at home and take care of your grandma. I can still work.”

  The music ended, but the two of them made no move to stop as they swayed gently to the sounds of the crowd around them. She didn’t want to stop dancing or stop talking. She wanted this night to go on forever. His strong grip on her waist, his intoxicating scent and the way he was holding her was more than addictive. Making his proposition to be together all that much more appealing. Was she considering going along with his plan? She could continue to work, continue with her pre-nursing class, take care of her grandma and keep this all going, right?

  For one month.

  Her life was packed already - always too many things going on at once. Sometimes it felt like she could never quite catch her breath. But here was this utterly handsome, wealthy man who wanted to pretend to be engaged to her for an entire month. A man she knew would never cross her path again. Was it worth it to add onto her daily load of work, her class, her grandma and the fact that after tonight she’d committed to herself that she would become a volunteer here? Was the idea of living in a fantasy world worth it for one month?

  Was he worth it?

  “But if I live my separate life, and you live your separate life, how will we keep this fake relationship going?”

  “How about we schedule in times we can see each other every week for the press’s sake? I’m pretty sure I can pencil you in at least a few times next week.”

  Sophia felt the strain of her skin above and below her eyeballs as she laughed incredulously. Pencil her in? Like an appointment? He must have realized how idiotic he sounded. His deep laughter rumbled against her chest, and the sound of his chuckle stirred something inside of her, and they both laughed aloud together.

  “Is that something most of your women accept? To be penciled in?”

  “It has worked well for me in the past.”

  “That’s not going to happen with me, Michael Vilander.”

  “Are you agreeing that you’ll be my fake fiancée?”

  Was she? Out of nowhere, his mouth was on her cheek near the corner of her lips. She fought the desire to turn into him. To take what he was offering. To feel those tempting lips she’d watched all night long as they graced the edges of his water glass. Before she could work up enough nerve, he pulled away leaving her wanting more. A real kiss.

  “Please accept my proposition,” he said in an even tone.

  “If I’m going to do this with you, you cannot treat me like I’m some meeting.”

  “What does that mean exactly?” he asked.

  “That means we need to meet a certain number of times a week to make this look real.”

  Michael eyed her curiously. “Okay, like a meeting. How many times?” he asked.

  “Twice a week and no, not like a meeting. Just whenever we decide to go out.” she said.

  He nodded in understanding. “Spontaneously. But instead of two, make it three.”

  “And you can’t cancel on me.”

  He raised one of his eyebrows and his lips quirked into a semi-grin. “That’s pushing it.”

  “I have faith in you.” She pulled away from his embrace and stuck out her trembling hand.

  “Deal.” He smiled as his large hand grasped hers. “When will you call?”

  “I don’t know. I guess we’ll figure it out, won’t we?”

  As the next tune began to play, Michael placed his hand against her, along the edge of her dress and bare back. His fingertips danced lightly against her skin as he led her off the dance floor. Bypassing their table, where she stumbled at the sight of an entire cheesecake sitting in the center waiting to be served, he led her up the escalators and into the Modern Art area.

  “So we have a deal? This stays between us?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. But how can you be so sure you can trust me?”

  “I’m not. I don’t even know what you do for a living, but I’ll take my chances. If you don’t want to do this, I’ll make up some lame story for Julia to spin to the tabloids. If you tell anyone, same thing.” He shrugged as if to say there was always a way around things. A way to get what he wanted. Needed.

  Sophia wished it were always that easy for her. Jealousy stole through her momentarily as she considered how she was on the short end of this stick, while Michael flied high with unlimited possibilities. She almost told him about work, but was too selfish and didn’t want to ruin their fabulous evening together. Quite possibly their entire agreement.

  “You can trust me,” Sophia said.

  “Very well. You can trust me, too.”

  Her heart beat wildly in her chest. “It’s settled. But for what it’s worth, I apologize for opening my mouth like that.”

  Michael turned serious. “I make it a point not to take the same woman out more than twice, Contessa Sophia, but something tells me I’m going to get more than I bargained for with you.”

  This was crazy. She shouldn’t have opened her mouth and made up the engagement story. But that nasty woman had made her so mad! Some primal instinct in her wouldn’t allow the other woman to talk down to him like he was the bad guy. And now, she was going to have to pretend for an entire month that they were engaged. How was she supposed to pretend when she was already wishing that his succulent lips were on hers, kissing her like no man ever had?

  How was she supposed to pretend that they were going to co-exist for thirty days without letting her feelings get in the way?

  Chapter Five

  She declined the coffee. The night was getting better and better. Michael couldn’t describe the way he was feeling. Sticking up for him and well, making parts of him stick up too, with that damn clingy dress. He wanted to take her so badly, he almost broke his vow of no kissing. He almost did it on the dance floor, purely without thinking of course. It had been automatic. Instinct. He leaned into her, her perfume the smell of summer attracted him like a bee to pollen and then before he knew it, his lips were right there.

  So close.

  All she would have had to do was turn her head, and he would have allowed it. He would have kissed those sweet lips. He mentally shook himself, unwilling to consider what it was that he was feeling or, for that matter, what in the hell he was doing. A fake engagement? Especially with someone he hadn’t known one bit up until two days ago. Which was also unbelievable as to how he was feeling the way h
e was. He curbed his feelings for many reasons. How had he let his guard down with Sophia in a matter of a few hours?

  He was asking for trouble. Thankfully his mom and dad were pleasant enough not to point this out to him. Great parents, merely going along with his scheme.

  Sophia stuck up for him.

  No one had ever done that for him. Except Regina and his parents. None of the women he’d gone out with had ever stuck their nose into any of his business. Granted, he’d never have allowed it anyway. Dumping them at the first signs of trouble. Trouble for him, meaning commitment – anything that showed the first signs of a woman caring. Hell, no. After Mindy, he didn’t want to have anything to do with messy emotions. That always entailed relationships. Which was why his firm two-date rule was it.

  Sophia had him awestruck though. She hadn’t even known the whole story, or at least his side of the story and she wasn’t afraid to stand up to Mindy for him. It was amazing how wonderful she was being about the entire ordeal and in truth, it left him slightly off-balance. She hadn’t pried either, and that made him even more entranced with her. He was especially grateful that he hadn’t needed to resort to trickery for her to stick around. Well, not really. One month. That was how long he had her. To be honest, he was seriously considering making a doctor’s appointment. Because not only had he never once allowed his feelings get the better of him—excluding Mindy that one time—he’d never allowed anyone control over his schedule the way he’d just let her.

  In the blink of an eye, she’d come into his life, and had him agreeing to give up part of his schedule to spend time with her – to make it look like a real engagement, of course. Which surprised him, because his job was his life. And he was the first to admit he didn’t live a normal life. Working from sun-up to sun-down and finding time to go to the gym, which was built solely for Together employees on the second floor of his building, in between work and home, didn’t leave much to be desired for.

  What the hell was he thinking and a rush of unadulterated excitement traveled through his mind as he watched Sophia in the darkness of the limo. One of her hands rested in her lap, the other one tugged at her hair, pulling the strand around and around her finger.

  “A part of me knows this will be fun, and another part of me feels like I should keep apologizing. I’m truly sorry about opening my mouth like that. Now, you’ll be wasting a month’s worth of time pretending to date me.”

  She moved again, this time fiddling with the non-existent wrinkles in her dress, looking everywhere but at Michael. His conscience screamed at him that this was all too lucky. That it was too good to be true. He couldn’t possibly have met the perfect woman on night one. Could he?

  “Stop apologizing, Sophia. No one has ever defended me that way. Let alone someone who doesn’t know me well. I appreciate what you did. Let’s enjoy this month together and not worry about faking it. We’ll act like a normal, engaged couple.”

  “What does that entail exactly?”

  Pretending to be in love. Hand holding, smiling at one another, laughing together, dating. All things he wasn’t excited about doing. “We’ll wing it. Do you think that’s something you can do?”

  Her voice trembled as she answered. “I can do it. What’s a month, right? Before you know it, Spring will be here, and it will be over.”

  Bad memories surfaced as he imagined what a happy engaged couple must be like. There was his delusion of what he thought it was supposed to be, how people should act, like his parents for example, but fuck, in hindsight he had no clue. The limo slowed as Aslan pulled to a stop. They were only five minutes from her apartment now, and it took all of Michael’s control not to slide that silky dress of hers up her thighs and settle himself in between them and feast on the sexiness before him. He would not kiss her lips, but he would most definitely kiss those lips. Those lips that he envisioned were ripe for the taking. Heated from him, using just a coax of his tongue.

  He cleared his head with a small shake. “You have my number?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And you’ll call me this week?”

  “Of course. Maybe tomorrow if you’re lucky,” she teased.

  “I can only hope.”

  The way her eyes flashed with pure delight. He felt the same look mirrored in his own. It was almost a relief to know he was dropping her off. He wasn’t comfortable with these uncontrollable feelings he was experiencing. He needed to keep himself in check. Dear God, why am I feeling this way? She was beautiful. Everything was perfect including the delicious swells of her ass - he’d have no trouble bending her over his desk, and biting that delectable bottom as his fingers teased the wetness between her folds. He adjusted himself discreetly in his seat. His dick uncomfortably hard at the thoughts flowing through his mind.

  The limo stopped, and Aslan was there with the door open.

  “Please, allow me to walk you up,” Michael said.

  “Sure,” she smiled.

  “Does that make you nervous?” he asked noticing her hesitancy.

  “No, not all. My grandma hasn’t been feeling well these past few days and it’s difficult sometimes to deal with. My grandma is my rock. Without her,” Sophia looked away and back to Michael. “I don’t know what I would do. I keep trying to steel myself for the worst, because I know someday she won’t be here forever.

  “I’m sorry, Sophia. Your grandmother is lucky to have you.”

  Sophia gave a tight smile and they turned toward her building.

  The apartment complex wasn’t in the best part of town. It was clear she either didn’t have a lot of money or didn’t flaunt it around. Michael was guessing it was the former. He hadn’t much time to analyze the apartment when he picked her up, but now that he was there to let her go, especially in the dark, he wasn’t too thrilled about leaving her alone. He hid his uncertainty; sure she would take offense to his disdain for her home. Even more so considering he picked her up in a limo. Once they made it up the stairs and to door number nine, she turned to him.

  “Thank you. I had a wonderful night. It’s all been like a dream. I’m glad we met, Clint.”

  Michael chuckled at the pseudonym. “It was my pleasure, Contessa Sophia. I look forward to your call.”

  He leaned in and placed his lips near hers. Along her cheek again. Little kisses trailing down her neck. As he kissed her, a coconut beachy smell filled his head and he breathed her in. Paradise. Her hands tousled the hair on the back of his neck as she pushed closer into his embrace, reminding him how long it’d been since he’d felt a gentle, tender touch as sweet as hers.

  Since Mindy. Back when he was duped into thinking she was something sweet.

  He pulled away, a sickening feeling in his stomach at the thought of how Mindy had used him purely for his cash. How had he been so easily fooled? Three years. Three decent years – at least he’d thought, and she’d been using him. Wasted years. That was why he couldn’t allow whatever this fun and interesting thing was with Sophia to go any further than a one-month relationship. He was not the easily duped guy anymore. He was not the guy who laid his heart on the line just to have it stomped on again. Not fucking happening.

  This was it. So he wouldn’t look like a fool by paparazzi standards. Their fake engagement would last one month; they’d pretend and then it would be over. She’d move on and take care of her grandmother, and Michael would keep his mind on his job. Just as he’d been doing the past three years.

  He said goodbye to Sophia and strolled determinedly to the limo.

  “Home,” he told Aslan as he slid into the backseat.

  Home and work.

  Two places where he knew his heart would be safe.

  Chapter Six

  The music pounded in her chest and her head, more so tonight because she had a headache from hell. Bad night to choose French braids in her hair.

  As the last tunes of Zee’s song played, Sophia mentally prepared herself to take the stage. Her cowgirl boots were rubbing against the
scab she’d gotten the night of the gala from those dang high heels, and for some reason, she couldn’t seem to get her top adjusted properly. Luke Bryan’s song, Move, began to play, and she made her way out there among the stench smell of draft beer that could never be cleaned from the carpeted areas.

  This was business. Business as usual. Nothing she loved. Just a means to an end.

  The bright lights temporarily blinded her as she came to the pole. Sashaying to the beat, swinging her hips left and right, she gyrated her ass against the cool pole bending forward making sure the pole was centered between her butt cheeks. The men loved that. Her eyes adjusted, and she scanned the expansive room. It was busy tonight with men loitering the floor. Great night for tips. She pulled at her flannel shirt, popping the snap buttons, edging the garment off her arms and away from her body as sexily as humanly possible.

  She didn’t jiggle her boobs. Ever. Sophia hated doing that more than she hated the lap dances. She couldn’t always get away with not doing either, but both made her feel like she was trading sex for money. Made her feel like a porn star. Her job ran that fine line well enough. She didn’t want to feel that way. At least, not any more than she needed to in order to make the big bucks. A hypocrite; she was well-aware. If she didn’t have some morals, some sort of line in the sand, she feared she would end up like some of the other dancers. Addicted to coke or heroin and selling her body for sex. Not all the other dancers were like that, but some were. Wasn’t going to happen with her. If she could get by doing two or three private lap dances a week, she was in good shape. Some of the gals, like Zee, did anywhere from five to ten a night. Not the best decision for Sophia financially, but it made her feel good to have a little bit of standards. She’d long given up on the notion of being ashamed. Mostly. She just held her chin high and did what she needed to do.