Immersed: Book 6 in The Ripple Effect Romance Series (A Ripple Effect Romance Novella)

by Jennifer Griffith

  “Yes. I want to mall you.”

  Maul her? Her breath caught, and her eyes popped open. Oh, wait. “You want to go to the mall with me?”

  “Yes. Mall. This is how you say shopping place, yes?”

  “Yes.” And so into her car they went. “But just so you know, ‘maul you?’ That’s something a bear does.”

  And not a teddy bear.

  She hadn’t worn the fuzzy pumpkin since their first meeting, but her make-under was still in full force—thanks to the stupid wart on her chin. It’s not like if she took it off he wouldn’t notice. It was the kind of thing nobody could miss. So it stayed. Dang it. But she rebelled and wore a pair of her favorite high heeled boots with a pencil (albeit tweed) skirt instead of nurse shoes and that awful pioneer thing that had been her go-to for months.

  “What shopping would you like to do?” She pulled into the parking lot of the nearest mall, and since it was still early, found a spot near a door. He was smart to plan this. Talking to a salesperson was good English practice.

  “Because I am starting a business, I must do English business. I want to take test.”

  He held the door for her, and they walked into the dim piazza between the stores. Malls. They were weird. The lighting was almost like casino lighting—where you couldn’t tell if it was day or night, so you didn’t have any idea how long you’d been in there, how much money you’d spent. Guerrilla marketing at its suburban finest.

  “The mall test?” She didn’t know this one. “You’re going to memorize the store layout, and I’ll quiz you?”

  Instead of responding to her lame jest, he took her by the hand and pulled her along. The pressure of his grasp made her heart leap. She scolded it, but it continued to do arabesques as they approached a shallow bit of mall real estate at the intersection between two long avenues of storefronts.

  The diamond store.

  “Himmel’s?” She stopped in her tracks. “You’re shopping at Himmel’s?” Lisette had only been at a serious jeweler’s establishment once before—with Justin the Jerkface Fox, right before he humiliated her in front of Aunt Corky and Mom and possibly the whole graduating class.

  Then it hit her. The “friend” from their first night, the diva with the sports car. In place of Sasha the waitress, Diva would be the happy recipient of Lisette’s diamond shopping.

  “This is my test,” he said under his breath, into her ear. She could smell his cinnamon toothpaste. Great. He could probably smell the old hair of the wig. What if he took a whiff and fainted?

  Erik didn’t seem to notice it. He turned her toward him so he could explain while looking into her eyes. Oh, his eyes were just… Her knees went liquid, and she had to grab the store’s pillar until they gelled up again. “I want to buy the most expensive thing in the store.”

  “What? Why?” Oh, that lucky diva.

  “Because I need to know how to negotiate a deal in English. If I am a businessman in America, this is skill I need.”

  “A skill.” That made sense.

  “So. Are you an actress?”

  “What? An actress?” Yes, she was. Every day of her working life.

  “I need you to be my girlfriend for this business deal.”

  “I don’t date clients, Mr. Gunnarson.” She cleared her throat and felt the heat rush to her cheeks. “It’s in the contract.”

  He frowned. “This isn’t a date. This is a test.”

  Right. A test.

  They went in, side by side. Lisette put on her best smile and clung to him like he belonged to her. What a great excuse to rest her hand on those incredible triceps. He was a good actor too, the way he encircled her waist with his arm, pulling her close. It fit. Well.

  But it was acting. It was a test. Just a test of the American broadcast system. Do not adjust your set. This is only a test. But his palm fit hers so nicely. And his hands were strong, and they’d done work. Calluses in all the right places.

  Dang him!

  “My girlfriend is about to become my fiancée,” Erik announced to the salesman in a pinstriped suit. The salesman’s colleague, a young woman in a similar pinstriped suit, sidled up beside him.

  Lisette looked up at Erik adoringly, then back at the sales-twins for a second before leaning her head against his bicep. It was hard to be a good actress with his thumb caressing the back of her hand. It was hard to think about much of anything else.

  The salesgirl’s face didn’t register understanding for a moment. She stared at Erik—of course, what breathing female wouldn’t?—then back at Lisette. Her eyes took in the head-to-toe package and registered surprise, then disbelief, and her lip curled briefly in disdain. It all took less than a second before she donned the mask of professionalism.

  Lisette’s chest tightened. How rude of this woman to judge her—and her worthiness to be at this man’s side, based on a first glance. Then she remembered the purpose of this whole guise. It worked. Maybe too well. At least on this retail-jewelry-hocking chick.

  Very weird that it didn’t repulse Erik like it apparently did everyone else. She glanced up, and he was beaming down at her. The glint in his eye looked almost roguish, and her face flushed. He was so close to her—and that cinnamon toothpaste made her woozy and dreamy.

  Geez. Get a grip, girl.

  Back in character instantly, Lisette squeezed his hand and said, “It’s just so unexpected.”

  “I’ll say,” the girl’s face said, while her voice asked aloud, “What can we show you today?”

  “Only the best for my girl.” Erik leaned down, kissing her ear and then lingering with his face at her neck. It stopped her brain entirely. His lips were soft, but chapped in just the right, scratchy way. “What have you got in platinum?”

  When he said to sell it, he meant it. Dang, he was selling her on it too. He could’ve dropped the embrace but didn’t. Despite the bulk of her clothes, he was going to be able to sense her pulse going ninety miles an hour. If she’d been hooked up to a machine in the doctor’s office, alarms would have blared. Curse him and his excellent acting skills.

  Salesgirl presented Erik with a velvet box containing a large diamond solitaire on a thick band. He shook his head.

  “That’s nice. It’s beautiful. But I’m thinking of something more in this range.” He pointed at a ring under the glass case. It was the ring Himmel’s featured, the one with tiny spotlights pointing on it and placed on a spinning angled black velvet post shaped like a stylized ring finger. There was no price tag. He kissed her ear again and whispered, “Do you know your ring size, my darling?”

  She didn’t know anything. Couldn’t answer. Her mouth was cotton.

  She stared at the fiery bit of compressed carbon. Whoa, Nelly. Not that diamonds were her thing. She preferred emeralds. Or sapphires. But even that fact couldn’t dim the fire of that stone.

  “Um? A six?” She recalled this fact from the Jerkface trip. A sour taste hit the back of her throat when she remembered Justin’s deception. It took great effort to keep the memory from making her frown. Look at the ring. Keep in character. “This ring, sweetheart. It’s stunning, but it’s too much.”

  Erik released her at last, and Lisette’s pulse came out of the danger zone. The salesgirl slid it onto Lisette’s finger. She gulped. The stone glinted, fire and flash, and under the jewelry lights there were angles that almost blinded her.

  After a second, she realized she was holding her breath, and Erik was asking her a question—for the second time.

  “I said, do you like it?”

  She stammered, “Like it?” She had to stay in character, so she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “It’s unbelievable.” Mmm. Up this close he smelled like pine trees and fresh, line-dried laundry. Whoa, those thoughts were so not professional. She calmed herself and got busy staring at the diamond again.

  “I’m interested.” He said. He slid the ring gently from Lisette’s finger, his hand brushing across hers and lingering a second. Were the salesp
eople watching? Even if her own acting skills resembled summer stock melodrama, Erik was all over the sales pitch. No wonder he was such a good businessman.

  The Pinstriped Twins knew how to play this game. They invited him to buy it now. No man wanted to try to drive down the price of an engagement ring in full sight of his intended bride. Doing so somehow cheapened his love for her. He played along for a moment and waited for them to throw out a number. Then he smiled and took Lisette’s hand. “I think we should look at Bijou. Didn’t you see something in there you liked just as well?”

  Lisette just nodded. Bijou. This mall didn’t have a Bijou. But he was good. This put the salespeople on their toes. “We will have to call the manager, but we might be able to get a different price for you. We like to keep our customers happy.”

  “Good, because when she’s my wife I’m going to want to see her in nice jewelry for years to come.”

  Lisette’s mouth went dry as a saltine. Wife! In spite of Lisette’s dowdy looks, the chemistry was just buzzing off Erik at her, almost audibly, like when she got too close to a power line. Was there any way on earth he didn’t feel it? Or was he just playing her? Jerks could do that, even to the strongest girls. She’d better protect herself.

  The sales duo scrambled. Lisette stood back and marveled at the ongoing negotiation that ensued. Slips of paper slid back and forth between the two sides across the glass. Other customers wandered in and out, completely ignored. Lisette leaned against the bearing post of the store, engrossed in the dance Erik did with these experienced commission hunters, at times standing up and starting to walk away, then being brought back to the table again by a hastened renewal of talks.

  After a bit, both sides looked closer to a deal. Erik came over and stood at Lisette’s side. Into her ear, he asked just loud enough for the salespeople to hear (and just close enough for Lisette to get unwelcome goose bumps as his breath hit her neck), “I’m sold on the ring, but is it what you want, my love?”

  She turned, and his face was a hand-span away. Her breath came shallow. “I, uh, it’s beautiful. But—I have always loved emeralds.” She winced. “Do you hate me for that? After all this discussion with them?”

  “Oh, no.” His arms encircled her, pulled her close. She melted into them. “How could I be upset? The ring is for you.” He kissed her forehead, and she tried to ignore the warmth of his lips.

  “Sorry, friends. The lady wants emeralds. What do men know?” He shrugged and pulled her out by the hand. The spell fizzed away as they left the store, and Lisette could let out her long-held gasp.

  “Well. That was quite impressive. You handled that negotiation like a boss.” They’d wandered down to the food court. She sat across from him at a wrought iron table, small enough that their knees knocked together from time to time. Even though the acting portion of the day was over, she didn’t pull away from them. She should. But she didn’t.

  Erik’s mouth turned up on the left side. “Ah. Was my English skills so okay? No?”

  Oh, dear. He’d clearly lost confidence since exiting the store. And some of his ability as well. She needed to buoy up the confidence.

  “Your English skills were very good. More than okay.” She reached across and rested her hand atop his—then pulled away quickly. “Well done. You’ve come a long way in just two weeks.” She felt his knee brush hers. It was a bit knobby. She should pull back, teach him the more appropriate distance he’d need to know for good business interactions in this country. Some other time.

  “Thanks to your help.” He broke into a full smile, one that dazzled her even more than that ridiculous diamond. “Lisette Pannebaker. It is not so. You say you do not likes diamonds?”

  “Like.” She had to correct him. “And I like them. They’re wonderful. I just like emeralds more. And sapphires.”

  “Sapphire. This one is blue, ja?”

  Ja, she almost said. Force of habit. So many clients had requested German immersion, and it was so close to the Scandinavian words she knew for “yes.”

  “But the diamonds are more valuable. Cost more, I think.”

  Lisette shrugged.

  “But all women like things that cost more.” He picked up a napkin and began to fold it into squares and triangles.

  “Not all women.” She took a napkin too and began folding it into a paper crane. He reached across and lifted her chin so she’d look him in the eye, and at last she elaborated. “Fine. I just never want to be someone who puts her trust in expensive things.” She should not explain why in detail. It would be too personal.

  “But you are successful businesswoman. You can have these things.”

  She messed up a wing on the crane and wadded up the paper. “Some women chase money—or men with money—to get these things. I think they cloud truth.”

  Erik made his napkin into a perfect little box. Then he put the box in one hand and clapped down on it. It made a loud pop. Shoppers’ heads turned toward them for a second, then back to the windows and the baby strollers.

  “A long time ago I met a very beautiful woman. I wanted to marry her, but I was too young. She told me she wished to marry a rich man. I felt upset by this and told her she was shallow. She sniffed. She said she didn’t care for the money. She wished simply for the safety and security money provides.”

  Lisette started an origami frog. The crane felt too ambitious. “I wonder if she found someone to suit her.”

  “It did not matter to me. She did not suit me. But I did change. I decided to make my business strong.”

  “To win a beautiful woman with it?”

  “To make my wife and family safe. Protect them from the world.”

  Lisette lifted her eyes to meet Erik’s. They were looking into hers. In the blaze of them she almost forgot how unattractive she was. She looked away. “Under pressure, your English skills were very good today. Well done.”

  “Thank you, Lisette. Can I buy you lunch?”

  She shook her head.

  “Oh, come on. This isn’t a date, as you say. It is a working lunch. You are working for me. I provide sustenance for all my employees. In my business we have a refrigerator stocked with sandwiches and fruit. Let me pretend I am just going to the refrigerator at my office now, not this sandwich shop. In our fridge we have turkey or ham or salami. Do you like a, how do you say, turkey and lettuce on whole wheat?”

  She nodded. That fit her mood perfectly today. “With provolone cheese?”

  “Of course. Unless you like havarti.”

  “Ooh! Havarti!”

  Lisette stood in her bathroom, staring at the mirror. She berated herself for pulling out her mascara, but she couldn’t help it. It had been months and months since she’d worn mascara to work, and she just couldn’t take another day with these blond eyelashes. She had to have some self-pride. Even in this disguise.

  It didn’t hurt her argument with herself that Erik insisted on taking her to a business lecture on campus given by a local entrepreneur-turned-millionaire this afternoon. Over the past couple of weeks, he’d chosen a variety of tourist-type activities, plus grocery shopping, a little fiasco at a car dealership, and a hike at Flatirons on Green Mountain. The hike had been disastrously cold, and he’d had to carry her out on his back when her legs went numb, but she didn’t complain. And she’d reminded herself with every step that she had to keep it professional.

  Professional piggy back ride. Yeah, that was it.

  Just a week to go.

  She swiped on another layer of mascara.

  Misgivings rattled all through her. Going back to campus—it could be a colossal mistake. Someone would recognize her, blow her cover, say something. If that happened, Erik might take it wrong. She’d always known this disguise thing was a tightrope to walk, but now, with the end goal in sight, she had to cling to it even closer. A week from now, payment would roll in. Her mom hadn’t brought it up, but it crackled in the air between them every time they talked on the phone. Mom had not forgotten. Pannebaker pho
ne banks gaped their awful maw at her.

  If Lisette was going back to campus, she’d better go on tiptoe.

  And probably without all this mascara. Stupid vanity.

  Erik declared he was picking her up this time. Up to now she’d resisted, but today, her Corolla was in the shop, and it was either give in to his insistence or take the bus and meet him there. She hated the bus.

  Her business cell rang. She picked it up and said hello, but there was indistinct talking on the other end of the line. “Hello? Hello?” It was Erik’s voice, talking. “I’m here, Erik. Are you going to be late?” He must be talking to another client.

  That, or he’d pocket-dialed her. Oh, great. She should totally hang up and not listen to his private conversation. That wouldn’t be right.

  Erik: I know, I know. She’s just so incredibly beautiful. I’m doing my best to move it along.

  Woman’s voice: I don’t know what you see in her.

  Erik: You don’t see her the way I do. She’s… stellar. She makes dinner for her elderly neighbors.

  He was talking about Lisette. She gasped. She should totally hang up. Now.

  Woman’s voice: Put a move on her.

  Erik: No way. Much as I’d like to, I can’t. She’d slap me. Or worse, send me away.

  Woman’s voice: Let me tell you what a woman secretly wants.

  Erik: What’s that? A caveman who will grab her by the hair and drag her off to his cave? I don’t think so.

  Woman’s voice: You’d better start thinking so. You botched it before by being too timid. Don’t let her slip through your fingers again. She wants that caveman, yes. But she also wants a sensitive guy.

  Erik: Oh, she’ll take the hair dragging as long as she knows there’ll be a scalp massage coming later?

  Woman: Exactly.

  Lisette shut off her phone. Her face burned hot. He couldn’t have been talking about her. For one, he’d said she was beautiful. Any fool knew that was false. He had to be talking about that diva from the parking lot at McDonalds. The one they ring-shopped for. That had to be it—Erik was in America to win that raven haired beauty’s heart and to make his move on her, but he was shy.