Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Forty-Seven

Liam

It’s Sunday afternoon.Eliza appears at my office door and I immediately snap my laptop shut. “Hey!” I spit out. “Didn’t expect to see you in here today.”

The radiant smile drops off her face at my weird behavior. Her expression goes nervous. I think we're both constantly on edge these days with how fickle Varner is.

“Is something wrong?" she inquires, her brows pleated.

"No." Yes—I’m a lying fucking asshole. That's what's wrong.

I've kept Eliza involved in every aspect of the hotel resort project, just as Varner requested...except for one minor detail. The community center.

Because I'm a guilty, lying fucking asshole.

No. That's not true. What's there to be guilty about? This is just business as usual. So what if the community center will get knocked down?

In a few months, it will be relocated to a different spot and life will go on. As soon as I get the ball rolling with building the new hotel, I'll have more free time to look for a new address for the community center. I swear.

In the meanwhile, I've just got to keep Eliza off my back. I know she'll give me a guilt-trip about the demolition and frankly, I don't want the headache.

See—I’m not guilty. I just don't want the headache.

I allow my eyes to scan the beautiful woman where she's standing in the doorway. "You look..." Sexy. Fuckable. Tempting as fuck. "... sporty," I choose to say.

She grins and throws her arms out at her sides. "You like?" She asks, giving a little twirl.

I find myself laughing. I do that a lot these days.

Since Eliza strolled into my life—and down that little chapel aisle—life has seemed less…empty. The days move faster. My never-ending work stress seems lighter. I have something to look forward to when I wake in the morning, and now that I stop to think about it, I don’t believe I’ve snapped at anyone in days.

Either I’m growing soft, or she’s a good influence, or I’m in lo—

Stop that shit, Liam.

I return my attention to the conversation. Eliza is waiting for a response from me. “I like it very much,” I say. I hope my grin isn't too eager because my cock is already stirring.

She’s not in the office attire she parades around in all week. Now, she's wearing tight, curve-kissing jeans and sneakers with a little Paragons tank top that highlights her tits and a Paragons cap on her blonde head. There’s a paper shopping bag dangling from her arm.

She brandishes two stubs of paper in the air. "I got us tickets to the game," she announces, her voice full of triumph.

God—she’s adorable. Makes it easy to forget that she’s hiding something from me. I’ve got Frank looking into the matter, though. I’m sure that, in just a few days, he’ll figure out what she’s up to and I’ll have the answers I need.

For now, I get to enjoy my wife. “Tickets to the game?" I lean back in my seat, smug. "You realize that I own the team, right? I don't need tickets to see a game. In fact, I have an entire luxury suite reserved for Kline-Simmons at the stadium."

She stubbornly shakes her head, unimpressed by my luxury suite. “I’ve heard stories about what it’s like in there,” she says warily. “That’s where all the boring, stuffy executives go to negotiate business deals. That’s not what tonight is about.” She comes and slides her luscious ass onto the edge of my table.

She pulls a second Paragons cap from her shopping bag and tugs it onto my head. Then, she’s handing me a Paragons jersey in my size. All paraphernalia that I already own but I don’t bother tell her that.

“It’s Sunday and you, mister, are going to have some fun.” She beams like the sun.

“So like a date?” I roll my lips between my teeth so I’m not full-blown grinning.

Her eyes grow shy. “No, not like a date.”

“Like a field trip?” I bite back my smirk again.

“Not like a field trip.” Her voice softens some more. “Like a ‘thank you’. For being so wonderful to me.”

I rise to my feet and kiss her from across the desk. “I think I like the sound of that.”

Eliza has it all planned out. There’s a cab waiting for us outside and forty minutes later, we’re climbing the bleachers, headed to the frigging nosebleed seats at the arena to watch the game. The excited crowd mills around us in the moments before the players hit the field.

Soda and potato chips in hand, Eliza glances at me over her shoulder. “Hey, I noticed on your calendar that there was a brunch meeting with some of the Varner team yesterday morning. I didn’t know about it. Was I supposed to have been in on that?”

There’s that ball of guilt in my belly again. “I, uh, it wasn’t important,” I tell her. “It was just a few of those ‘boring, stuffy executives’ driving each other crazy over some small, ridiculous details. Varner himself wasn’t even there.”

The truth is, I’ve kept Eliza out of a few of those meetings. Meetings to discuss the demolition plans. Usually, I’d remember to wipe them off my calendar before she noticed. This one must have slipped through the cracks. I’m hoping she doesn’t press me for details.

I speak in an aloof tone, gripping my own drink and snack as we climb the stairs through the crowd. “The official contract signing is in a few days. I’ll need you present for that. But for now, don’t worry your pretty little head about any of the other particulars.”

She nods slowly and shouts above the din of the stadium. “Well, if you need—”

Eliza’s words are abruptly cut off when a tall, dark character in a gray Panama hat bumps into her. Her chips hit the ground and some of her soda sloshes onto her tank top.

On instinct, I edge a shoulder between Eliza and the careless asshole. “Hey, watch where the hell you’re going, man!” I roar in his face.

The man pauses. He removes his eyes from my wife for just long enough to glance at me. “Sorry about that.”

He doesn’t even look convincing and I want to smash him in the face—did he do that shit deliberately?—but I feel Eliza’s hand grip my bicep. “It’s okay,” she tells him, although there’s a weirded-out lilt to her voice.

The guy stares at her face again. Then he nods and melts into the crowd.

“That was strange, huh?” she whispers into my shoulder as he walks away.

“Yeah.” Finally, we’re at our seats and I help Eliza get settled in. My eyes sweep her thoroughly. “You sure you’re okay?”

She laughs softly, blotting her clothes with a wad of napkins. “Yes, I’m okay. You’re acting like I just got into a car wreck. It’s not a big deal.”

I pull in a steely breath. “Fine.” I glance over my shoulder. “Look, the game is about to start. Let me go grab you some more snacks real quick.”

“Thanks.” Before I walk away, she grabs me by the hem of my jersey. When she puckers her lips, I lean down and brush my mouth over hers. The kiss calms me somewhat. “Now, hurry up and get back.”

Nodding, I push through the crowd back to the concession stand. I may want to smash that asshole in the face for jostling Eliza.

But at least, the incident provided a change of focus. At least, I get to buy a little more time before my wife finds out what the Varner deal will cost the citizens of Sin Valley.