by J. J. Bella
“Yeah, she’s a sweet kid,” said Molly.
“Great to hear,” he said, looking up at her from his coffee, a warm smile on his face. “She’s just one of those kids that needs to warm up to new people. But when you’re part of a family like this,” he said, gesturing to the luxurious home around them, “people are quick to write of shyness as being stuck-up or stand-offish.”
“Ah, like they think you think you’re too good for them.”
“Exactly,” said Peter, setting his coffee down and going through a stack of accumulated mail.
Then he looked up at Molly, as though remembering something.
“I almost forgot; I need you for something tomorrow.”
“Oh? What’s that?” asked Molly, leaning against the counter behind her.
“I’m going to be sending out a press release, of sorts, about our upcoming marriage.”
Molly’s eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know our…engagement was something the press would be interested in.”
“You’d be surprised. All of the society papers follow us tech bachelors around, all trying to figure out who we’re dating and how serious it is. If you ask me, they need to find better things to do with their time.”
Molly let out a laugh at the silliness of it all as she remembered the magazine that Claude showed her.
“It’s for the best,” he said, opening the fridge and taking out a bottle of mineral water. “If we didn’t put out something official, they’d just speculate about us until we gave up and admitted something. Even if you were just my nanny.”
“Which I am,” said Molly with a smile.
“Well,” Peter’s brow furrowed as he attempted to puzzle out the correct way to talk about this subject. “You know what I mean.”
Molly nodded, her smile spreading further and flashing her teeth; she was warming up to just how strange this situation was.
“So, it’s either months of them following us around and snap pictures of any time you and I happen to be at Whole Foods together, followed by months of speculation on the internet, or we just take some official pictures, send them out, and hope they move on to juicier subjects.”
“Then we’re having pictures taken?”
Peter nodded
“That’s the plan. It’d be tomorrow, down in the Mission District. Nothing big; just some photos of you and I looking the part of the happy couple.”
“That sounds fine to me,” said Molly.
“Great. And you don’t happen to know of any babysitters who could look after Winnie for the afternoon, do you? I’d make it worth their while.”
Molly knew just the person.
“My roommate, Claude. He’s the one who got me my babysitting connections; he’s been doing it for years.”
“Oh, perfect,” said Peter.
Then, he took a long sip of his water and started off towards his office.
“OK, I’m going back under. Give your friend a call; he can set his price.”
With that, Peter headed out of the kitchen, and Molly slipped her phone out of her back pocket and pulled up Claude’s number.
“Hey, girl,” he said after answering.
“Hey, what’re you doing tomorrow? Do you have any appointments?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. Why? Oh, you got something going on with Mr. Gorgeous?”
“Yeah, he wants us to go get pictures taken for our official announcement.”
“Wow, things are getting serious with you two.”
Molly smiled and rolled her eyes. “He needs someone to look after his daughter tomorrow while we get this done; he said you could set your price.”
“Say no more; done and done.”
“Great. I’ll send you the address.”
“Perfect,” he said. “By the way, how’re things going with you two? Any chance you guys might decide to, you know, do a little method acting?”
“Oh, stop,” said Molly, blushing at the thought of being intimate with Peter. “No, he’s just a boss.”
“Sure, for now.”
“Claude! It’s not like that.”
“OK, girl, I’ll take your word for it.”
“You’d better,” she said, her face an even deeper shade of red than it was moments before. “OK, see you tomorrow.”
The rest of the day went without a hitch. Peter emerged from the office with the news that he’d ordered some pizzas, and that he could squeeze in a couple free hours if Winnie and Molly wanted to watch a movie, to which Winnie happily agreed. Claude’s words stuck in Molly’ head as they watched while sipping sodas and eating their slices of pizza. It’s true that she was extremely attracted to Peter, but since this whole arrangement started, she put thoughts any romantic thoughts of him on the back burner; after all, why would a man like him who could have any woman in the city that he wanted to settle for someone like her, she thought. But now that Claude had put the thought back into her head, she couldn’t shake the idea, and found herself looking at him out of the corner of her eye during the movie, scanning his perfect, gorgeous profile, his strong, wide shoulders, and the way his forearms looked with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up them halfway.
This is bad, she thought to herself, turning her eyes back to the screen and wrapping her lips around the straw that sat in her soda can.
The next morning and afternoon with Winnie went well, and Molly was starting to feel as though she was getting closer to her by the day. Their appointment at the photo studio was for five, so Claude showed up at around four. Not encumbered by the same self-consciousness as Molly, he hit it off with Winnie right away, making the progress with her in minutes that it Molly felt like took days for her. But she was accustomed to Claude’s charms; he was one of those people who made friends everywhere he went.
Karl arrived to give her a lift to the studio, but before she left, she sent a text to Peter.
- Do I need to wear anything special?
Seconds later came the response.
- Nope. All taken care of.
Molly smiled, realizing she could get used to the way Peter seemed to always have all the details taken care of.
Karl drove her to the studio and dropped her off, letting her know that she’d be coming back with Peter.
The studio was a tall-ceilinged, open space, and when Molly walked in, she saw Peter standing in front of a backdrop, dressed in an elegant tuxedo and surrounded by camera lights on tall mounts. A small staff of five was buzzing around, making last-minute changes. Peter gave Molly a wave as she walked in.
“Right on time,” he said.
Molly felt her chest tighten as she approached Peter. She’d seen him in his usual array of stylish dress clothes, but never in a full tuxedo, his hair styled perfectly, the lights of the studio shining on him in such a way as to bring out every aspect of his stunning, chiseled face. His usual five o'clock shadow was shaved clean, and his face seemed to glow, his blue eyes sparkling.
“How’re Claude and Winnie getting along?”
“Oh, fine,” said Molly, regaining her composure. “He sent me a picture of them; they’ve already had their first fashion show of the night, it looks like.”
Peter smiled warmly. “Sounds like you made a good call.”
Molly said nothing, instead, returning his smile.
“OK,” said a trim woman who seemed to appear out of nowhere, a middle-aged woman with a face of severe beauty and a jet-black bob that matched the all-black clothes she was wearing. “What are we going to have you wear?”
“Molly, this is Beverly Sams,” said Peter. “She’s the photographer; one of the best in the city.”
“Dressing room is over there,” Beverly said, her eyes on Molly’s body, as if already trying to determine her most flattering angles. “Amy’ll get you dolled up- hair, makeup, dress, all that.”
“They’re still doing preliminary work, so don’t rush yourself,” said Peter.
Molly nodded and walked over to the far corner of the room that Beverly
indicated. There was a well-lit vanity set up, a rack of dresses beside it, and a pair of pretty young women, both with dark, chocolate-colored hair.
“Hi, Molly. I’m Amy,” said the girl to the right, shaking Molly’s hand. “Have a seat and we can get started.”
The two girls set upon Molly in a flurry of activity, having her try on various gowns, each gorgeous and expensive, before settling on a cobalt-blue dress that was more low-cut than Molly was used to, her eyes going wide upon seeing at the cleavage on display. The dress was finished with a pair of black high-heels, the price of which Molly could only guess.
The girls then went to work on Molly’s hair and makeup, giving her lips a sultry, red color and putting her black hair in a tasteful up-do. A short while later, Molly looking approvingly at their work in the full-length mirror, noting that she was just the right combination of sexy and classy. And as she turned, admiring how her body looked in the gorgeous dress, she found herself wondering when the last time she looked like this was, and, to her shock, realized that her high school prom was probably the closest she’d come to this level of dress in the last few years. And as she admired herself in the mirror, she couldn’t help but notice the ring, the beautiful stone on her finger seeming to complete the picture. But she dismissed this thought as silly.
“OK,” said Amy. “I think we’re all set. Head on back to Beverly and you guys can get started.”
Molly thanked Amy for her work before returning to Peter and Beverly.
Peter’s eyes widened as Molly approached, his baby blues even more striking than they usually were.
“Wow,” he said, looking Molly over. “You look…stunning.”
“Thank you,” said Molly, a soft smile spreading across her lips.
“Alright, love birds,” said Beverly, now standing behind the camera. “Let’s save that chemistry for the shoot.”
Peter extended his hand, and once Molly took it, he pulled her close to him, wrapping his arm around her bare shoulders.
“Ready?” asked Beverly.
“Ready as we’re going to be,” said Peter.
Beverly set to it, having the pair pose in various ways, starting with simple, chaste poses, such as the two standing at each other’s side, Peter’s arm around Molly’s shoulder, her hands on his hips. But as the shoot went on, Beverly requested poses that were progressively more romantic and intimate.
“Turn towards one another,” said Beverly. “Look deep into each other’s eyes.”
Molly turned and looked up at Peter, still shorter than him even with her new heels. She gazed into his blue eyes, his full lips a straight line. His gaze was like a weight upon her, and she couldn’t do anything but return it.
“Great, great,” said Beverly, snapping away, her assistants making adjustments to the light. “Now, Peter, put your hand on the side of her face.”
Peter’s mouth spread into a sly smile, and he did as Beverly asked. Heat radiated through Molly’s body as soon as he touched her face, the feel of his skin on hers almost too much to bear.
“Now, pull her closer.”
Peter placed his free hand on Molly’s hip and closed the few inches of distance that remained between them. His face was mere inches from hers, and the scent of his skin swirled around her, a rich, masculine scent.
“Perfect.”
Molly’s lips spread open, her tongue running across them in a slow drag. The feeling of Peter touching her, the nearness of his body, his scent, his gorgeous face- all were casting a spell on her. The lights around them, the assistants moving here and there, the incessant snapping of the camera, it all melted away, leaving Molly feeling as though there was no one but her and Peter, standing in each other’s embrace, sharing that magical moment of heat and tension just before a kiss. Molly closed her eyes, her lips moving towards his…
“And that’s it!” said Beverly, looking up from her camera.
Molly blinked and shook her head, snapping out of her reverie. She turned back towards the Beverly and the rest of her crew, now keenly aware of her surroundings. Peter did the same, stepping off of the small set and walking over to Beverly.
“Beverly, thank you so much,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“My pleasure,” she said. “It’s always a joy to see young lovers like you two; I could really feel the passion.”
“I’m excited to see how these turn out,” said Peter, flashing a glance that Molly could’ve sworn was a knowing one.
“A pleasure meeting you, Molly,” said Beverly before turning back to her crew.
Peter returned to Molly.
“You did wonderfully,” he said.
“Oh, thank you,” said Molly, now feeling self-conscious, as though her attraction to Peter was not only out in the open, but preserved in pictures.
He took another look at Molly in her dress.
“I wasn’t kidding,” he said, looking her over. “You look incredible.”
“They did a good job,” said Molly, attempting to deflect the compliment. “It’s a beautiful dress.”
“You like it?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Molly, catching her reflection in a nearby mirror. “I love it.”
“Then it’s yours.”
“What?” said Molly, surprised, realizing that there was no way this dress cost less than five thousand dollars.
“It’s my ex-wife’s,” he said. “It’d just be hanging in the closet collecting dust until I donated it to some charity. Take it.”
“But won’t your ex-wife want it back?”
“No, that won’t be an issue,” said Peter, seeming eager to not dwell on the subject. “I think that it’d be a shame to let how you look tonight go to waste. Care to stop for some dinner before we head back? I know just the place.”
“I’d love to,” said Molly, not needing to think it over for even a second.
9
Walking out to Peter’s Porsche, Molly shot Claude a text asking him if he’d be OK with watching Winnie a little while longer. He responded with a selfie of him and Winnie wearing some silly clothes and making goofy faces at the camera, which she interpreted as a “yes.” She showed Peter the picture, and chuckled; Molly could tell he was happy that his daughter had found not just one, but two adults that she was comfortable being herself around.
Molly took a look around the city as they approached the car, the sun now dipping beneath the horizon, the lights of the Financial District towers beginning to twinkle. The breeze was gentle, and the air was the perfect temperature; it was evenings like this that made her glad that she moved to the city.
“Ready?” asked Peter, standing next to her as she gazed at the city.
“Oh, sorry, yeah.”
He smiled and opened the passenger door. Molly slid in and Peter entered soon after, the engine roaring to life as he activated the ignition.
“So, where are we off to, Mr. Randall?” asked Molly, placing her hands on her knees, the fabric of the gown soft as silk on her skin.
“Well, Ms. Brimley, I’d like to keep that a surprise. It’s not Italian; I’ll tell you that much.”
“Fine,” said Molly with a playful pout.
Peter drove towards his destination, and Molly passed the time by looking out of the window at the city beyond, her eyes on the people who walked down the streets, the buildings that towered above them, and the occasional glimpses of the blue water of the bay through the landscape.
After a time, they arrived in front of one of the taller buildings of the Financial District and Peter drove the car into the half-circle in front, a valet springing to action as soon as they car came to a halt.
Within minutes, they were standing in the elegant lobby of the building, a tasteful space with gold statues, bubbling fountains, and various men and women dressed in similarly glamorous clothing as Peter and Molly.
Peter led Molly to the elevator bank, a hallway of gold-painted walls, vaulted ceilings, and several silver sets of elevator doors. They st
epped into one, and as it rose, the back wall of the elevator gave way to glass, revealing a stunning view of the city, their vantage point growing more dramatic the higher they went.
The doors opened to a chic restaurant full of what appeared to Molly to be high society types. A host in tasteful, sophisticated attire led them through the main dining room, many of the patrons giving their hello to Peter as he and Molly made their way through them. The dining room walls were all glass, allowing for a three-hundred-and-sixty view of the city.
They arrived at a small door off to the side which led to a small, private terrace with nothing but a table for two.
“Enjoy your meal,” said the host with a smile as he left the two alone.
Gentle piano music piped in through a nearby speaker mixed with the sounds of the city below, and Molly stepped over to the railing, placing her hands upon it and taking in the breathtaking view of the city.
“This is incredible,” she said, her eyes scanning from the Pacific Ocean to the Golden Gate Bridge and all of the neighborhoods of the city that lay stretched before them, the pointed shape of the Transamerica Building towering above them all. “I’ve never been to a place with a view like this.”
“Yeah,” said Peter, taking his seat. “It’s one of my favorite places in the city.”
Molly shook her head at the majesty of the view one last time before taking her seat across from Peter. She turned her head, looking in at the main dining floor which was packed with some of the city’s wealthiest and most elite.
“I feel like I stick out,” said Molly, her eyes on the immaculately dressed clientele.
“Nonsense,” said Peter. “You’re classier than all of them combined.”
He flashed her a sly smile as she let out a light chuckle.
Their waiter opened the terrace door and approached the table.
“Good to see you, Mr. Randal,” said the waiter, a young, handsome Hispanic man.
Peter gave the young man a polite nod. The waiter then listed the specials, followed by Peter ordering drinks.
“I’ll have a Manhattan, and...?” he flicked his eyes to Molly.
