“That’s insanity, what is wrong with the men in your city?”
“How much time do you have?”
“I’m being serious,” said Harrison. “I am shocked a woman of your caliber isn’t fending men off constantly.”
“I am, just not any men of substance, unfortunately.”
Harrison shook his head, sincerely confounded by the revelation. “Sorry, I interrupted you. Continue.”
“There’s not much more to tell, really. I go to work, go home, and sometimes I go out with the girls or with other friends or clients. I’m in a pretty dull rut myself. This vacation is the first out-of-the-ordinary thing I’ve done in a while.” She paused. “Which brings up another issue: where are we going to say we met?”
He rubbed a soft rose petal from one of the vases between his fingers. “We met at an opening night gala at a museum.”
Clarice let out a harsh laugh. “Oh we did, did we? You think I attend a lot of galas?”
“Don’t you?”
“Well, like one or two, maybe. My company is pretty big.”
“Exactly, so we met at a gala, and you swept me off my feet.”
“What were you doing in New York?”
“Whatever I want,” shrugged Harrison. “I don’t exactly need a reason to jet halfway across the world.”
“Fair point. And have you been courting me long-distance, or just being really, really neglectful of your job?” laughed Clarice.
“I convinced you to take a leave of absence from your job and come spend time with me in Bali so that I could make you fall in love with me forever.”
“Sounds made up.”
“It is made up.”
“You know what I mean, smart ass.”
He laughed. “My parents are used to my unconventional style, Clarice. If I tell them I used my extensive fortune to pull you out of your mundane life and join mine, they’ll believe it. That’s what people do in their world when they have more money than they’ll ever be able to spend.”
“Must be goddamn nice,” said Clarice.
“Can’t complain,” said Harrison. He checked his watch. “We better get going, love, we’re cutting it pretty close here. I’d like to be waiting for him when he arrives instead of the other way round.”
“Sorry, just putting on my shoes,” said Clarice. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had an entire new fancy outfit to enjoy putting on.”
Harrison took another pace around the room before he finally heard the bedroom door squeaking open. He turned to gaze upon a gorgeous vision of Clarice in a designer knee-high dress with a bell-shaped skirt that accentuated the natural curves of her waist. The skirt was cream-colored and pleated, and the top of the dress was sewn with delicate designs of hanging vines in thick white thread. With short sleeves and a deep V-neck, it was perfect for the hot Bali nights, and accentuated Clarice’s sexy cleavage. On her neck, ears, and wrists glittered a matching set of jewelry with sparkling green emeralds set in gold, and she finished the outfit off with a pair of nude heels that made her legs and ass look firm and toned.
Harrison’s mouth dropped open as she stood there under his scrutiny, waiting for him to say something, holding the skirt in one of her hands awkwardly as if putting it on display.
“Well?” she said. “Is this an okay ‘first dinner’ outfit for your parents, or what?”
He was stunned. She looked incredible. “It’s perfect, Clarice. You have me completely enchanted.” He took a few slow steps towards her.
Clarice blushed and gave his chest a gentle tap with her palm once he came close enough to reach. “I’m your future wife, you have to say that.”
“I have to say it because it’s true,” he said. “You’re a vision, truly.” He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss. “And I’m so very lucky I have you to help me out.”
Clarice smiled at him, and it was like a thousand beams of sunlight piercing directly into his heart. “Don’t mention it. But maybe you should save the kudos until after dinner, in case I make an ass of myself and ruin this whole stupid plan of yours.”
12
Harrison
Harrison made reservations at La Mer, the finest restaurant in the resort, and the only one that he could guarantee would be free of the usual drunk, horny resort revelers that would horrify his mother. The restaurant held to a strict dress and behavior code, and guests who didn’t want to get that fancy had plenty of options to take instead. This place was for fine evenings such as tonight, and Harrison felt excited with each step he and Clarice took towards the doors.
It didn’t escape his notice that they were still receiving plenty of looks as they passed people by. He had been used to attention before, of course, but there was something different about it this time. The way people looked at him with Clarice on his arm was different. It really did make him feel like a king in a way he hadn’t realized was missing before.
“Are people staring at us?” asked Clarice, as if she had read his mind.
Harrison chuckled and glanced down at her. “I told you before, we look good together.”
“Are you sure it’s not because I tucked my skirt into my stockings?”
“Trust me, I’ve looked at your ass more than once already, and it’s not that.”
She didn’t flush red this time, she just met his gaze with her own challenging, frisky expression and knocked an elbow into his side with a little grease on it. He pretended it hurt more than it did; her smile was worth it.
The garçon greeted Harrison at once by name as soon as we entered the darkened dining room. Dimly lit with quiet jazz music floating overhead, this restaurant was one of Harrison’s favorite places to go at the resort. It reminded him of the parts of his childhood he still recalled with fondness: the dark wooden paneling of his father’s study and library were very similar to the paneling here; the energy of stimulating conversation and civility, like so many sleepless nights at university. Even the gentle blinking of candlelight on each table was just like what his mother insisted on in their own dining room table when they had supper. He felt just a little bit more at home in this place.
Unfortunately, the little buzz of power the memories gave him faded when he rounded the corner with Clarice on his arm and saw his father and mother already seated and enjoying their evening cocktails, waiting for them. Harrison stole a glance at his watch; six o’clock was still five minutes off. Even early, he couldn’t beat his father. He sighed and tried to shake it off. He was about to have much more pressing matters.
As they approached, Harrison could see the expressions on his parents’ faces change from blank curiosity, to surprise, and then delight as they stood up to greet the new arrivals. He didn’t realize how long it had been since he had seen them, but it really had been years, and it was remarkable that he could see the aging they had gone through. If that was in store for him, he wasn’t looking forward to it.
Harrison got his build from his grandad on his mother’s side. Vanessa Moore was a delicate woman with hair she kept died impeccably blonde all of Harrison’s life. The super-rich lifestyle helped her keep thin and toned, for the most part, but he could see the signs of lines and sagging skin that would not be fixed through diet and exercise. She was still a naturally beautiful woman with soft blue eyes and a smile that made her whole face seem alight.
His father, George, wasn’t a very large man, and Harrison always wondered if it contributed to the tension between them. Harrison had a good half-meter of height and plenty of muscle weight on his father, and he was handsome in a way George himself had never really been. But George’s power came from his business acumen, not his looks. He wore a tailored gray suit and solid blue tie, sensible, the fashions kept up-to-the-minute by a special staff he had dedicated to his wardrobe. As usual, there wasn’t a hair on his head out of place, and even though the black mane was beginning to gray at the sides, it only added to the distinguished air his father had.
He gave Clar
ice’s arm a squeeze against his body, and leaned down close to whisper to her. “You’re going to do smashing, love. I promise.”
“Of course I am,” she whispered back. “And you’re going to pay me a bonus for it.” She looked up and winked at him.
He didn’t have time to do anything but smile at her. His mother, Vanessa, was coming round the table to wrap him in a loving hug.
“Darling,” said his mother. “It’s been ages, I don’t understand why you can’t come and visit home more often. It’s not as if you can’t arrange the time off work.”
Harrison grinned, in far too good a mood to let his mother’s inherent personality quirks rub him the wrong way tonight. “Hello, mother. I missed you too. You’re looking radiant tonight, just radiant.”
“Don’t you try to flatter your way out of things, Harrison, I know your tricks.
“You’ve noticed he does that too, huh?” said Clarice with a little smile.
“She already has your number, I see, Harrison. Are you going to introduce us, then?” His mother turned expectantly towards Clarice.
“Yes, son, introduce us,” said his father. Harrison removed his arm from Clarice’s grasp to give his father George a hearty handshake, and receive a pat on the back as well. “I must say, your mother and I were very surprised to hear from you about this, and so suddenly.”
“I didn’t even realize you were seeing someone,” said his mother.
“That’s because I’m not a teenager anymore,” said Harrison. “And I don’t ring up my mum every time I get a date.”
“Come now,” said his mother.
Harrison took a breath. “Mother, father, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Clarice Blackburn. Clarice, these are my parents, George and Vanessa Moore.”
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” said Clarice. “I’ve heard so much about you already.”
“I wish we could say the same,” said his father. “Let’s sit down and remedy that.” He gestured to the table and it was clear that all conversation was to cease until the group had done what he wanted. Harrison felt a grip of tension begin to build at the base of his skull, and he did his best to ignore it.
Their party had a dedicated waiter, and once the table was sat, the expectant young man came over to take drink orders for Harrison and Clarice. Harrison had already arranged the evening’s meal, calling up one of his chefs who was well-versed in English and western dishes in order to make his mother comfortable. The chef was not happy about being called in on his day off, but Harrison promised him an extra two weeks of paid holiday for his work, and it seemed to smooth his edges off. If his plan went well, all they would need to do is sit at this table for the next few hours, drink, eat, and talk.
“I wasn’t sure your email was serious at first,” said his father once the drinks had arrived. “It’s been a few quarters since I’ve heard from you at all, aside from the business reports.”
“Yes, well,” said Harrison, leaning back in his chair. He had rehearsed this with Bruce three or four times to make sure he looked as casual as possible. His father was a shark, and he could detect weakness without breaking a sweat. “It’s been quite hectic around here lately, and to be perfectly honest, things happened so quickly between us that we just hadn’t stopped to think about including anyone else, really.” He took Clarice’s hand and held it on the tabletop, and turned to smile at her sweetly. She returned it, perfectly timed.
“Harrison does tend to make quick work of things,” said Clarice. “One minute, I’m in a museum in New York, wishing I had stayed home with a pair of slippers instead of the high heels I was wearing. The next, I’m being whisked away to Bali by the most handsome and charming gentleman I’ve had the pleasure to meet.” She squeezed his hand.
Harrison didn’t say it out loud, but he was deeply impressed with her wit and skill. She was an excellent actress. Her story sounded flawless.
“Oh, so you’ll fly to New York to meet ladies, but won’t take an extra eight hours across the Atlantic to see your own mum?” said his mother.
As annoyed as he was by her words, he was also delighted. She was believing the story.
“I know, mum, and I do apologize. I’m a sod,” said Harrison. “Bruce talked me into an impromptu trip a few months back, is all, and I took him up on it. It was only for a weekend.”
“What do you do, Clarice?” said his father in a commanding tone. “What does your family do?”
“Oh, uh, my family is not of any note, sir,” said Clarice. “Upper-middle-class, very boring, not at all in any circles you would probably be aware of at your stature. My father works in finance in the city and my mother gardens. I work in publishing.”
“Publishing, how lovely!” said his mother. “I raised Harrison to be a lover of literature and the arts.”
“Bit of a dying industry, isn’t it?” said his father. Harrison sighed at him.
“A love of arts is how we met,” said Clarice with a loving glance towards Harrison. “Staring at the same painting together.”
“And then you remarked how much you hated the sloppy brush strokes,” said Harrison.
“And you puttered on about how you ‘quite liked the boldness of a man who would be so careless with his brushes when he knew everyone was going to see the result’,” she joked and winked.
Harrison was amazed when both his parents laughed at her line. Had this woman really already figured him out so well that she could mimic the kind of humor he liked to use?
Clarice was an astounding woman. Beautiful, charismatic, sexy, bold, and incredibly smart…
He was starting to wonder just what kind of trouble he’d gotten himself into.
Clarice had his parents eating out of the palm of her beautiful, delicate hands before the food even arrived. She was magnificent, purely magnificent, and it wasn’t just them she had charmed. The natural way they flowed together made Harrison want to wrap himself around her and just kiss her for hours. He couldn’t have found a better woman to pull this off with him.
At least his parents couldn’t say the chemistry in the room wasn’t real. He could tell Clarice felt it, too. Those little signs of physical attraction were stark and consistent every time she glanced his way with a secret smile.
They finished supper and Harrison offered to extend the evening with a nightcap at the martini bar, knowing full well his aging parents would decline. He would get points for the asking anyway. Once the dance had been done, Harrison insisted he and Clarice walk them back to their suite before retiring.
“This place seems different than I remember, have you remodeled?” asked his mother as they sauntered slowly down the hallway towards the rooms. She turned her head as she did, to where Harrison and Clarice were a few paces behind.
“Not in a good long while, we haven’t had any reason to,” said Harrison. “You’re probably blending some of the resorts together in your memory.”
“As if she ever visits any of them,” said his father.
On his arm he felt a gentle tug once, twice. He bent down toward Clarice’s face and she said to him, “They’re pretty damn cute together. You made them sound so grumpy.”
“Don’t tell them that,” said Harrison. “It’s not fashionable in their social circle to actually enjoy the company of your spouse, so you’ll spoil their secret.”
Clarice giggled and bent her head so it touched his ever so slightly, a tiny gesture of affection that sent waves of electricity through Harrison’s body. Arousal for her had been building in him ever since she walked out of that bedroom in the new dress, and she was only making it worse with every passing hour into the night.
They reached the presidential suite and passed out hugs and cheek kisses to Harrison’s parents. His mother pulled Clarice into an embrace before Clarice could offer her a simple handshake, and Harrison could hear her whisper, “Welcome to the family, dear.”
“Thank you,” said Clarice. “I’m thrilled.”
“We’ll see you
in the morning for a round, son? Tee time is at seven,” said his father.
Harrison let out a small groan of disapproval before he could stop himself. He did not share his father’s passion for golf. “Seven? Weren’t there any four AM tee times still available?”
“You’re quite the comedian,” said his father with zero humor or self-awareness of such.
“Yes, I can tell by your uproarious laughter.”
“Perhaps we should let them get their rest, dear?” said Clarice in a mocking tone as she hung on Harrison’s side and patted a hand on his chest. “You can do your standup routine for me back in the penthouse.”
His parents chuckled and waved as they disappeared inside and shut the doors. Without a word, Clarice took Harrison’s arm and together they headed down the hallway toward their own bedroom.
After a few silent moments, Harrison looked over to see Clarice beaming like she had a great secret. It made him happy, and curious. “What are you so glad about?” he asked.
Clarice turned to him, her eyes shining. “Nothing. I don’t know, I guess… I guess tonight was just fun. I think it went really well.”
“It did go very well. Perfect, even.”
“Your parents aren’t half as bad as you made them out to be.”
“Hmm, let’s see, weigh your four hours of experience versus my three-plus decades of psychological torture…” Harrison wiggled his head back and forth and hummed in faux thought until Clarice giggled and gave him a soft little shove.
“In any case, the important thing is, the plan is going smoothly,” she said.
“Yes, it is, it’s going absolutely smashing,” he said. “And I have you to thank for that. When I pretend proposed to you, I had no idea you were literally going to be the best pretend fiancée a man could ask for. You’re a fantastic actress.”
“That’s really flattering, you should save that line for your real proposal one day.”
“I’ll make a note of it. But seriously, thank you. You’re really wonderful for doing this for me.”
Pranked Page 25
