by Sienna Ciles
I thought about talking to Bethany about it--I’d even promised her I’d explain myself after I had the information. But we’d be around her classmates for the next several hours, and I wasn’t about to risk making the whole thing go pear-shaped for the sake of bouncing my troubled thoughts off of her. After the luau, or maybe after the dance, I’d talk to her about it. I’d see what she had to say.
I hurried downstairs and went out to the car. It had started snowing lightly, but I figured it wouldn’t harm anything too much—the forecast had promised it wouldn’t do much more than put a light little scrim of frost on what was already on the ground, after the big snowstorm.
I climbed into the car and started for the hotel where the luau was going on, and tried to push the news I’d gotten out of my mind for a few hours, at least until I could actually talk to Bethany about it. “It’ll be fun to see her face, at least,” I said to myself. That gave me a smile, and I focused on getting the rest of my official job done for the day, instead of on my weirdly sordid past. It would be better that way, I told myself. I might even have fun--and I should arrive in time to make sure that Bethany learned how to hula.
Chapter Twenty-One
Bethany
“You know, you’d look even better with nothing under that grass skirt,” Ransom told me, grinning.
“In this weather I would probably literally freeze my ass off if I had nothing to wear under this thing,” I countered.
I was surprised at how much I’d enjoyed the hula lesson, especially with Ransom doing it right at my side. I’d noticed that for all he seemed to be good at everything except for art, he’d been too preoccupied the whole time to really catch on--but of course, that had given me a chance to shine.
The hula stuff had just about ended, and people were browsing the huge buffet, snagging pork and salads and seafood. I loaded up a plate and tried to think of how I could ask Ransom what was on his mind without anyone figuring out what was happening. The last thing I wanted to do was give up our carefully-crafted cover story, just before the moment of my biggest triumph.
Ransom picked at his food, and as the afternoon wore on, people started heading back to the hotels or their houses, eager to get ready for “prom.” I thought that they’d probably planned the luau event specifically because it was something people could come and go from without calling too much attention to themselves, because it was casual and relatively care-free.
After we’d both finished eating, I suggested to Ransom that we might as well head back to the hotel and start getting ready ourselves, since the party seemed to have wound down. Really, I wanted to pick his brain about what he’d found out in his research in my organization’s databases that had made him so preoccupied, and why he’d wanted the information he’d been after if it wasn’t going to make him happy. Maybe he didn’t find it, and that’s why he’s in a mood.
When we got to the room, safely alone, it was the first question on my mind. “Did you get what you needed to find? And why did you need to access those databases?”
“I got it, but I don’t want to talk about it just yet,” Ransom said. “Let’s just get ready for the dance.”
I thought about pushing it, but I knew it was useless. Instead, I went into the shower and took my time, making sure that there wasn’t a hair on my body that I didn’t want there. I even took the opportunity to scrub down thoroughly with my favorite exfoliant, until my skin was gleaming even in the water of the shower and the yellow-tinged light of the bathroom. I used the hotel’s hair dryer and tried to decide what to do with my hair, thinking about the lovely dress I’d gotten for the occasion a good month before. I hadn’t been counting on it being quite as cold as it was, but I thought I could deal with it--the dance was going to be in the same hotel we were in, after all, and there wasn’t a very good reason for me to try and go outside for the rest of the night.
Ransom took over the bathroom as soon as I left it, and I used the other mirror in the main part of the suite to start putting my makeup on, still deliberating on how to do my hair. I went heavier with my makeup than usual, focusing on my eyes, taking the steps that I’d practiced after watching a dozen tutorial videos on YouTube, just for the purpose of the big dance. I wanted to not just be beautiful, but otherworldly. I wanted the guys I’d graduated with to envy the hell out of Ransom, and the women I’d graduated with ten years before to worry I could steal their husbands.
Just as I finished up, my phone rang, and I hurried to answer it--thinking in my startled mind that someone at the agency had seen the search Ransom had done, or that he’d done something behind my back to get me in trouble somehow. Instead of any of my bosses or coworkers, the screen flashed with Jess’ name and number, and I almost laughed from relief when I tapped accept.
“What’s going on? Aren’t you getting ready?” I asked. For Jess to be calling me, it had to be something important.
“My hair...is destroyed,” Jess said, sounding like she was in the middle of crying.
“Oh god, what did you do?”
“Just come to my room. I can’t even tell you,” she said. I looked around. I’d thrown on a pair of sweatpants and an old, soft button-down shirt to do my makeup in, with nothing underneath.
“I’ll be there in like, five minutes. Just don’t freak out too much,” I told her. Where I always got uncomfortable in social situations, or felt insecure, Jess was the kind of person who was great with other people--as evidenced by the fact that she’d had about a dozen boyfriends in the past three years—but she tended to melt down when something like this happened. She was the yin to my yang, so to speak.
I told Ransom I was going to help Jess with something, and made sure that I had my key-card before leaving the room. I hurried down the hallway, wanting to get Jess’s crisis out of the way as quickly as possible so I could get ready, and as a result only had a few seconds to hear the two women--Nadine and Katherine--chatting a few feet ahead of me, around a corner. Just enough time to avoid literally running into them.
“...sure, she’s hot but she’s the same she’s always been,” Katherine said.
“You really don’t think that she’d stoop that low, do you?” Nadine asked her. I wondered who they were talking about.
“Bethany? Of course she would. Come on, Dine. She hasn’t even posted about having a date in like--two years.”
“That doesn’t mean anything, though,” Nadine countered. “She might just be private, you know?”
“Yeah but just because she’s hot doesn’t mean she’s got what it takes to hold onto a guy like that,” Nadine insisted.
My heart pounded in my chest and I followed them, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t realize I was behind them, listening. As soon as I’d heard my name I had to know what they were saying about me.
“So maybe they just haven’t been dating that long,” Katherine proposed.
“I don’t think they’re dating at all,” Nadine said. “She probably hired him from some modeling agency or something.”
They reached the elevator then and I hung back, feeling waves of embarrassment washing over me. I couldn’t possibly announce myself then. I couldn’t face them after what they’d just said. They were as close to right as they could be, of course--but I wasn’t going to admit that, and I hated--hated--that they’d managed to see through my story.
I heard them get onto the elevator while talking about what kind of ad I must have put in the classifieds to find a hot guy like “James,” and I wanted to cry. But I had to keep focused. I had to take care of Jess. I waited long enough for them to be well out of the way and went to the elevator, pushing the button a good seven or eight times in my hurry.
By the time I got to Jess’s room, I’d managed to get myself under control. She let me in with her hair wrapped in a towel, and once the door was closed she let it fall. It turned out that she’d tried some kind of technique with a straightening iron to curl her hair, and it had gone all wrong. I brushed her hair out and dampe
d it down, and showed her--from my own experience--how to do it right, to get the beachy, wavy curls she wanted to go with her strapless dress.
“I really--really--need to run now, Jess,” I said.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she replied, kissing me on the cheek. “Your makeup looks amazing, by the way.”
“It better, after I practiced it so many times,” I said. “Can you handle it from here?”
Jess nodded and started on another section of her hair. She’d been doing that part all wrong--along with twisting the flat iron the wrong way. I kissed her on the forehead carefully and left her room, wondering if it wouldn’t be better to just call the night a wash. I’d already been humiliated, even if Nadine and Katherine didn’t know it yet.
I got through the door to my room, and Ransom was working on his tie. “You should just go in that,” he said jokingly. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.
“Not on your life,” I told him, my mind still spinning with what I’d overheard. “I am going to be the hottest woman at that stupid dance or I’m going to die trying.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ransom
Bethany came out of the bathroom with her hair done up in some kind of complicated style, but her face--made up as it was--didn’t lie. She was upset.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “It’s your big night of triumph!”
She bit her bottom lip and looked at the floor. “I’m kind of thinking I might not bother to go,” she said.
“Just twenty minutes ago, you told me you were going to be the hottest woman there or die trying,” I pointed out.
“I’ve been thinking about it and the whole thing is stupid,” she said.
“What happened? Did Jess get the same dress as you or something?”
Bethany glared at me and the full heat of her look made me instantly regret the bad joke. “Really, what happened?” I asked. “Obviously something did.”
“I went to go help Jess with her hair, and ran into Katherine and Nadine.”
I gestured for her to go on; obviously it couldn’t have just been her nearly colliding with two former classmates.
She said, “I heard them talking. About me.”
“What did they say?”
She grimaced and then gave me a wry smile. “That I probably hired you from a modeling agency to pretend to be my boyfriend because in spite of being hot, I suck at life.”
I stared at her for a long moment. “They think you’re paying me?”
She nodded.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. There was a part of me that wanted to come clean to her right then--completely clean, about more than just why I’d needed her work access. But I pushed that idea out of my head. I remembered something I’d tucked away for a rainy day, something I’d won in a poker game, that might come in handy--and in that moment, if Bethany was willing to be a little daring, it would come in handy indeed.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I got up and found my wallet, and dug around in the change pocket until I found what I wanted. I took the ring out and showed it to Bethany.
“Think getting proposed to and being engaged to me after tonight would shut their bimbo mouths?” It was a respectable ring: a three-carat sapphire, perfect and unflawed, surrounded by diamonds and set in white gold.
Her eyes were huge as she stared at the ring in amazement. “Where the hell did you get that?”
I shrugged. “I’ve been holding onto it for a while. I thought it might come in handy sometime, and now seems pretty good to put it to use. I’m not letting you keep it--just to be clear.”
Bethany snorted at that, but stared at the ring for a moment longer.
“That would probably shut them up,” she admitted. “I mean--this isn’t the kind of thing most people would plan, is it?”
I laughed. “If they think that me proposing to you is part of the plan, then they’re over-thinking their entire lives,” I told her. Especially since you’re going to be genuinely surprised, since you’re not going to know when it will happen. I put the key in my suit pocket and looked at Bethany significantly. “Now, finish getting ready so we can show your stupid former classmates that you’re a hundred times better than them.”
It only took her another couple of minutes to get her dress on and put her shoes on her feet, and I had to admit that if I had been one of her former classmates, I would be amazed by her. Of course, having seen her naked, the sight of her in a floor-length gown was just impressive--not amazing. But I thought she’d get the effect she wanted.
The dance, taking place in the Clairmont Hotel ballroom, was just as lame as any prom could ever have been, save for the fact that they were serving alcohol openly instead of in secret. The DJ was in the middle of a set of early 2000s hits, and as Bethany and I worked the room, saying hi to everyone and taking pictures like we were supposed to, I caught more than a few surprised looks turned her way.
“Some of these guys are definitely wishing you’d come alone,” I told her quietly, as we headed out to the dance floor. I was still full from the luau food, but the hotel had provided hors d’oeuvres which would come in handy later.
“I think I saw Tracy Peters staring daggers at me,” Bethany said, smiling.
Ever since I’d proposed proposing to her, she’d been in a much better mood. I knew she was waiting for me to spring my big surprise, but I fully intended on making it a surprise for her, too. I wanted her reaction to be as genuine as possible.
So we danced, and we took breaks to drink spiked punch and eat cocktail food, and talk to people. More than one person came by to marvel at how good Bethany looked, and how cute we were together, and I wondered if Nadine and Katherine had kept their thoughts about me being hired to themselves, or if they’d been spreading the idea around. Would be just like a couple of Stepford Wives like them, I thought.
I waited until Bethany had probably almost forgotten about the idea I’d had--or at least until she’d probably concluded I wasn’t going to do it. And then I waited a little while longer, for her to step into the bathroom attached to the ballroom, to freshen up, and I went to the DJ booth.
“Hey, man. I need you to do me a solid,” I said. I’d brought my wallet with me, and I took out a twenty and handed it to him.
“Anything you want,” the DJ said. He grinned, his teeth too white in his face, and I thought about the best way to do what I wanted to do--the best way to get the full effect.
“I’m going to propose to my girl tonight,” I explained. “I want you to play ‘Umbrella’ by Rihanna, and then I’m going to come up, and just play along with me--okay?”
“For twenty I’ll let you play it yourself if you wanted,” the DJ said, grinning again. “I’ll give you a cue just to be sure you’re ready for it. I’ll play ‘Don’t Stop the Music’ before I do ‘Umbrella’--you know it?”
Of course I knew it. I nodded. “That’ll be perfect.” I shook his hand and ducked out of his booth before Bethany came out looking for me.
I led her out onto the dance floor and when she wasn’t looking I caught the DJ’s eye and gave him a nod to let him know I was ready when he was. Bethany started to get tired, but I realized that just about everyone at the reunion had made their way onto the dance floor, and I wasn’t about to let her leave the center of the room when she was about to get the nail to hammer into her enemies’ coffins.
“Let’s just do a couple more songs, okay?”
“Okay, but you have no idea how much these shoes are hurting my feet,” she said.
I made sure to dance up close to her, in spite of the fact that it made me remember what it was like to be with her in bed--a little too much, maybe. When I heard the first Rihanna song, my heart started beating faster. I’m almost as nervous as I would be if I was really about to propose to the woman I loved, I thought. It was a crazy idea, and I almost laughed at my own stupidity.
Then the first couple of notes of ‘Umbrella’ came on, and I took
my cue. Bethany almost screamed in delight at the song--as I knew she would--and I broke away from her.
“No. No--fuck this,” I said, shaking my head. “This is all wrong.”
“What?” Bethany looked at me in shock and I turned away from her, going to the DJ booth up and off to the side of the stage. I leaned in and in the corner of my eye I could see everyone else start to get shocked at what I was doing. Perfect.
“Give me the mic,” I said. The DJ shrugged and handed it to me. “Keep the song going for another verse and chorus, okay?” He nodded and shook his head at my madness.
I started singing along with the track, about her always having my heart and how we wouldn’t be separated. Fortunately, the mic was cordless. I hopped down off the stage and made my way to Bethany again, with her classmates making way for me. I didn’t have the best singing voice, but I made the best use of it that I could as I worked through the crowd. I stopped in front of Bethany, getting to the end of the verse and then into the chorus, and then dropped down on my knee as the DJ cut the music out.
Bethany was standing there, looking absolutely stunned--just like I wanted.
“Bethany baby, will you marry me?” I took the ring out of my pocket and held it up so that the people directly around us could see it.
“Yes--yes, of course I’ll marry you, you crazy fool,” Bethany said, starting to cry as I turned off the mic and put it down to put the ring on her finger.
The room erupted in cheers, and I stood up to kiss her, just like something out of a fairytale. I led her back with me to the DJ booth as he cheered us along with everyone else, and I gave him his microphone back.
He turned on the mic. “Everyone, let’s make some room for these two to have a special dance to celebrate their love!”
