What happened with Anastasia had been the last straw, the final attempt at fitting into the world into which he had been born. But there were lots of reasons Harrison had gone before his father one day many years ago, humbly, to ask for a favor for the first time in many years.
Heartbroken, fed up of fighting his father, and utterly sick of England as a whole, Harrison told his father he would take any resort job the elder Moore would find him, as long as it was far away. It was the one and only time he could remember his father giving him what he asked for.
Harrison moved to Bali and never looked back.
With his father thousands of miles away, Harrison dove headfirst into the blissful paradise of having power, wealth, and freedom. He found he took very naturally to running the resort, a fact which surprised his father at first. But Harrison was a people person, and that was all this job was, really. Everything else was details. Harrison had everything he could ever want in Bali, and no one could make him do anything he didn’t want to do. He was in power. He was king.
And kings didn’t get their hearts broken.
Yet as he stood at the bar staring at the shot of rum in his hands, Harrison wondered what had gotten into him the other night when he had sent the email. Could it really have just been the Sambuca making him brave and stupid? He had been sloshed before and made some bad decisions —especially back in England — but this bad decision was so specific. Harrison couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was wrong with him.
Maybe some part of him wanted to grow up in the way his father always wished for him.
“Bollocks,” he muttered to himself, shaking off the thought. He tossed back the rum angrily and dropped the shot glass in the empty sink.
Both his watch and phone agreed that time was marching on, a thought that served to keep him on edge, despite the drinks. He just wanted this nightmare to be over with.
Only imagining how Clarice was making out in the boutiques brought a brief smile to his lips. She really was a remarkable woman for agreeing to this insanity. Not that she owed it to him, of course. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had pocketed the expensive engagement ring, and simply puttered on with her lady friends, returning to the States and leaving him to face his problems alone. He would probably be tempted to do the same thing in her position.
It’s not like he hadn’t left ladies in the dust before, himself. Maybe not under stakes so high… but then, that was just his ego talking, wasn’t it?
Harrison decided the only thing to do would be to get some work done. He was far too anxious to relax and it was slowly dawning on him that he had zero control over what was happening right now. His father would show up when he wanted, like always, and then the plan could get underway. Strangely, he realized he wasn’t worried about Clarice pulling off her part, not even a little. He was far more worried he would say something himself that would ruin his well-laid plans.
Heading for his office, he felt a wave of relief when he saw Bruce, shirtless and sandy, sliding in one of the side employee entrances that connected directly to the beach. His long hair had come loose from whatever ties he had put it in, and it was soaked with sea water and glittering white sand. Bruce was glowing with the happy vibes he always got when he surfed. Harrison realized it had been weeks since he had been on the waves with him, and he felt a pang of envy.
“Hey bro!” said Bruce happily. The sandals he had been wearing dangled from one of his hands. “I was just about to give you a call and see how things are going. Is the plan working so far?”
Harrison sighed and came to a stop in front of his friend. “I suppose, it’s a bit too early to tell. I’ve got my fake wife at least.”
Bruce gave him a sad smile and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s going to work out, whatever happens.”
“You have far too much faith in the world. I blame all the pot, it’s a gateway drug to stupid optimism.”
Bruce laughed, “You love pot. And you love my stupid optimism; it’s the only thing that counters your faux-cynical British dryness.”
“Faux-cynical? Clearly I haven’t been getting my honest message across to you all these years. No Englishman has ever faked his cynicism.”
“Did your pops’ flight make it in okay?”
“Yes, they landed a few hours ago.”
“A few hours?” said Bruce in a surprised voice. “Shit, what are you doing here then? I thought you took time off during the visit.”
“I did,” sighed Harrison. “King George decided he had some business meetings first and is leaving me holding my dick waiting. Honestly, my nerves are on fire. I hate being so powerless, simply awaiting my fate.”
“Where’s Clarice?” asked Bruce. “I figured you guys would be tied at the hip by now for the act.”
“I sent her to the costume department.” When Bruce didn’t catch on right away, Harrison added. “Shopping, I sent her to the shops to splurge on some couture so that she looks like my fiancée.”
“That is a hell of a perk,” said Bruce.
“Has to be done,” said Harrison. “What good is marrying a rich man if he’s not handing you a limitless spending account?”
“I guess you have a point,” said Bruce. “It would be strange if you didn’t spoil her.”
Thinking again of her being spoiled and happy at the shops made Harrison smile to himself once more. Clarice was a lovely woman, and she really did deserve to be spoiled. He was glad to do it.
The ring of his phone blasted through the calm of the moment, and he nearly dropped it trying to pull it out of his pocket. His father’s face and name glowed on the screen.
Harrison paled as he answered. “Yes, father.”
“Harrison, change of plans, we won’t be by until later this evening. Arrange a dinner for the four of us and we will meet you there at 6pm sharp.” It wasn’t a question or a negotiation among equals, it was a direct order from a boss to employee, and it boiled Harrison’s anger. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to scream into the phone until he was hoarse.
Bruce, intuitive hippy that he was, picked up on it immediately. He put both hands on Harrison’s taller shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. He mouthed to him, “You’ve got this. Stay calm and you win.”
It was cheesy, but it worked. Harrison took a deep breath, and the anger melted down. “Certainly, father. We’ll see you at 6.” He didn’t wait for a response, but simply hung up the phone, the way he knew his father would have done. It felt oddly satisfying.
“Nice job,” said Bruce. “Are you going to be okay during this whole thing? It won’t do you any good to have the fiancée trick down if you lose your inheritance entirely because you punched your old man.”
Harrison rolled his shoulders and shook his head. “I’ll be fine, mate, cheers. It will be much better in person. He may own this place, but I have home field advantage when it comes to being comfortable here. Plus, he’s so old now that I don’t think I have the heart to punch him anyway.”
“Well, that’s a relief to hear. Don’t stress, dude, you’ve got this,” said Bruce. “I hate to duck out, but I’ve got to hit the showers before my shift starts. I’ll have my phone on if you need me, okay?”
“Don’t let Jones see you with that.” Harrison’s replacement for the week liked to make up for his inadequacies and inability to ever take over the resort by forcing the staff to adhere to rules they usually got to break under Harrison’s watch. Plenty of them would be furious at him for a while for the switch, but Jones was reliable and independent, and that was what Harrison needed. His staff would just have to deal with it.
“Hey, you out-rank Jones, tell him that I’m special,” said Bruce with a laugh. He patted Harrison on the back as he passed by him and headed towards the staff facilities to prepare for his day.
Harrison sighed and checked his watch again impulsively, then immediately mocked himself for it. He suddenly had a great many hours to kill and he hadn’t planned on that. It was like
his father was extending his torture indefinitely, and Harrison knew he needed to find something to keep himself busy and keep his mind occupied so he didn’t stress himself into a coma before he even got the chance to truly destroy his future with this ruse.
He wondered what Clarice was doing and, after only a moment’s hesitation, pulled up her number on his phone. It rang a few times before she answered, out of breath from laughing. “Oh, hi honey,” she teased.
Harrison smiled. She was all-in for the plan, apparently. “Hi dear. How are you enjoying the boutiques?”
“We haven’t gotten that far yet,” said Clarice, and then she hiccupped. He could hear Trudy laughing in the background. “We stopped at the bar first.”
“You can take those drinks into the stores with you, you know.”
“We can?” said Clarice in a silly, excited voice.
“Well, you can, since you’re the queen of the resort and all. Tell the security guards to blame me.”
“This is already the most fruitful relationship I’ve ever been in.”
Harrison chuckled. “Father rang and said he won’t be arriving until this evening for dinner, so you and Trudy can feel free to take your time shopping. We need to be ready to meet him by six.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Clarice. “I’ll make sure I’m ready to go by then. What are you going to do all day?”
Harrison looked longingly out the employee entrance. “I think I need some time with my surfboard and the sea. It’s the only thing that will relax me now.”
He didn’t know why, but he could hear Clarice smiling. “That sounds lovely. I’ll see you tonight then?”
“Tonight, Clarice.”
His time on the sea did wonders for Harrison’s nerves and his mood. The waves weren’t incredibly great, and the beach was simply packed with tourists, but it didn’t matter. Nothing could get between him and happiness when he was riding waves. It was one of the biggest things that kept him attached to Bali even on the days where he hated everything else about his life. He would give up everything else first before he would give up his access to the ocean.
He surfed as long as he could before he had to return and get ready to meet his father. There was no new word from him when Harrison finally made it back to his Jeep and his phone, but there was a text from Clarice letting Harrison know that she had finished her shopping and was back at the penthouse suite, getting ready. He told her he was just wrapping up and would join her shortly.
Make sure you knock! were her exact words in the text, followed by a little smiley face that Harrison tried hard not to interpret as an invitation to ignore the words themselves. Not that he would do it, but there was something deeply erotic about the idea of walking in on Clarice in a state of half-undress, rolling stockings up her gorgeous legs to attach to a garter belt…
Now that he was a little calmer, his usual ramped-up levels of lust came roaring back to his mind, and he was suddenly consumed with the idea of getting his dick wet.
He could probably wrangle a quickie with one of the many women on the beach in front of him, but he didn’t. Instead he daydreamed about his hands undressing Clarice, and taking her hard against a wall or bent over the fancy sofa in the penthouse, her long black hair spilling across her pale back. By the time he arrived back at the resort, he was so achingly hard from those thoughts, he had to use his gear bag to cover the bulge in his trousers as he slipped in the employee entrance and made his way back to his own penthouse.
He tried his damnedest to keep his mind off Clarice’s body as he showered, shaved, and changed into one of his favorite suits, a double-breasted gray-blue number with a navy blue shirt that made his eyes shine like sapphires and accentuated his broad shoulders. He matched it with a Windsor-knotted black tie and cufflinks from his mother’s father that she had given to him when grandad had passed. He had gotten his hair routine down to a science. A quick brush and some product had it looking perfect in minutes. He was satisfied with the man who looked back at him in the mirror.
Before he sat down on the bed to put on his fancy shoes, he texted Clarice to see how her preparations were coming along. They had less than an hour before they would be expected at dinner.
Almost ready. You can come over if you want.
Harrison grinned and texted her back: Oh, I want. For good measure, he followed it up with a winky face.
He waited to see if she responded, or if he had crossed a line with his flirting. It was only a few seconds before she replied back with a Ha-ha, who wouldn’t? and a little yellow face that was rolling its eyes sarcastically.
“Little minx,” he murmured, stuffing the phone into his breast pocket. He was starting to realize he was going to have a hard time wanting to keep this arrangement strictly professional.
Even though the plan hadn’t even technically begun yet, Harrison felt lighter than ever, and couldn’t stop himself from whistling like a clichéd update of Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins as he headed out of his suite and down for Clarice’s. He shared a few charming smiles and hellos with guests, including a few women who basically collapsed into his arms when he greeted them. That was something he would probably never tire of.
He reached his mock fiancée’s room and rapped his knuckles on the beautiful white and gold door. “Darling, it’s me, your dashing husband-to-be, come to whisk you away to dinner.”
He could hear mumbling behind the door, and Trudy’s voice say, “He’s really into this, isn’t he?”
“Yes, I am ‘into this’, it is my life after all,” said Harrison, pressing his face against the crack in the door. “And I’m not deaf!”
“Hold your horses, Tonto!” came Clarice’s voice.
There was some rustling, and then the door came swinging open to reveal Trudy standing there with a sarcastic pout and one hand on her thin waist. The pink dress she had been wearing before was gone, replaced with a cozy-looking romper in emerald green that showed off her smooth legs.
“Did I buy that?” he asked, pointing at her outfit. “And those?” He definitely recognized the gold sandals from the shops. They were one of the best sellers.
“You most certainly did,” said Trudy as she moved back to allow him in.
“A worthwhile investment, you look beautiful.” He bent to give her a peck on the cheek, and for the first time he saw her blush and stumble just a bit in her hard-assed act. “Is my bride ready to face her future?”
“Almost!” hollered Clarice from the bedroom. “Don’t come in here, I’m not done.”
“She’s lying, she wants to make an entrance,” said Trudy. “Because she’s a drama queen when she’s happy!” She cupped her hands around her mouth when she let out the last bit, making sure Clarice heard every single word.
“That is slanderous! I’m a loveable goofball!” a muffled voice shot back.
“You’re certainly one of those things,” said Trudy, shaking her head. She gave Harrison a once-over and nodded in approval. “You clean up pretty nice, Harrison.”
He put his hands in his pockets and gave her a half-smile. “Trudy, are you warming up to me?”
She was smiling as she walked a little closer to him. “I am literally the jaws of hell that will come calling for you if you so much as make that girl cry one single tear during this little charade of yours,” said Trudy.
He wouldn’t tell her, but he actually was a little thrown off by that. “But hell is warm, right?” said Harrison.
“Knock it off, Trude!” called Clarice. “I graduated Girl Scouts a long time ago, I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“And anyway, I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Harrison. “Clarice is my savior, my guardian angel, why would I ever make her cry?”
Trudy stalked up to him and put a finger in his face, even though her tone was far more playful than not. “Just don’t, alright, rich boy? I know where to hide a body, too, you know.”
“Do you? I’m not actually sure I would know where to hide one. How’d you get good a
t hiding bodies?”
“How do you think?” she nodded towards the bedroom and gave his nose a tweak.
Harrison laughed. “Oh, you’re very good, I like you.”
Trudy chuckled and disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, and when she returned, she had her purse on her shoulder. “I’m out of here, you two. Have a lovely time tonight. Clarice, I expect a phone call!”
“For sure, babe!” yelled Clarice.
“Evening, Trudy,” Harrison said, bowing his head as she passed.
Royal Stripper Page 35
