Fake Fiancée for Dad’s Best Friend by Gena Snow

Chapter 11

Alex

 

 

 

 

Whew. I let out a sigh of relief when the truck of the party planning company leaves the property. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. Sure, everyone gave a look that showed their disbelief. Even though everyone was also smiling and congratulating me, I sensed their skepticism about my relationship with Vivian. The age gap is huge. Of course. I don’t blame them.

My eyes seldom left Vivian during the party. Goddamn. She was breathtaking in that sparkling little dress. I knew she got curves, but that dress only accentuated them. She looked like a sexy little princess. When we danced together, I couldn’t help pulling her a bit too close and got all horny.

I return to the house and head toward the living room, where a few family friends linger. My eyes search for Vivian and soon find her speaking to David, the son of my mom’s friend, still a college kid. I don’t like the way he looks at her. Damn. I meant it when I told her not to wear the dress when I wasn’t around. This is precisely what I worried about: guys won’t be able to keep their eyes off her. I walk across the room to join their conversation and to remind David he’s speaking to my fiancée when a hand shoots out and grabs me. It’s my sister Sam. “Alex, Sit down. I haven’t seen you for years. We’ve got a lot of catch-up to do.”

I frown a bit. First of all, we saw each other not long ago at Christmas. Besides, Sam and I don’t have much to talk about. Mainly because we weren’t full siblings, and she is ten years older than me. But we never had any conflict between us. Mysteriously, she and Trisha hit off the moment they met years ago and became friends. Our breakup hasn’t affected their friendship at all because Trisha is sitting right next to Sam, and the two are laughing like sworn sisters.

“Sure,” I say and take the seat across to the table while keeping an eye on Vivian.

“So, I was just telling Trisha about what Jimmy did the other day,” Sam says. “He was playing hide-and-seek with me when I was shopping at Bloomingdale’s, messing up their clothes and tossing their shoes off the rack. I was abhorred, and I screamed at him. I was going to spank him right there in the store. Guess what? The saleswoman protected him from me and told me not to worry, saying the boy is just being a boy.”

I laugh. It isn’t the first time my sister brags about her child getting away with things. “You’re lucky to have a boy that cute.”

“I know,” Sam says. “But it makes it difficult to discipline him. Not that I’m complaining.”

“I can see your dad really dotes on them,” Trisha chimes in, nodding at my parents, who are charmed by the boy at the moment.

“He does. My dad and Karen both love them. Alex, hurry up and make your mom happy. Karen is dying for more grandchildren.”

What is it with women? Do they have nothing other than babies to talk about? Sure, I want kids, but Vivian and I aren’t real.

“Well,” I clear my throat. “There’s no hurry. Vivian is still young. Just graduated from college.”

My sister nods and turns to Trisha. “What about you, Trisha? Still against having kids?”

Trisha answers so quickly that I’m taken aback. “Not at all. I’m considering sperm donors.”

“You’re kidding!” Sam gasps, echoing my surprise. What’s gotten into her? Three years ago, she had no desire to start a family.

“I’m not,” Trisha says. “I had an egg count last month. The doctor said I had a pretty good chance to conceive.”

“Good for you!” Sam says, smiling at Trisha and then turning to me. She does say another word, though, which puzzles me.

I’m not comfortable with the direction the conversation is steering toward, so I change the topic. “How’s the ranch doing?” Sam and her husband manage the ranch.

“Couldn’t be better,” she says. “We’ve gotten some new contracts with wineries in the state, and our cottages are all booked through the end of the summer.”

“Wonderful.”

“Yep. But there are no breaks. George works every day, including weekends.”

I nod with agreement. “I know what you mean. That’s how it’s like with your own business. Remember Mom used to complain Dad never spent time with her?”

Sam laughs. “I do. And now she must be sick of him.”

We laugh about it for a moment, and Sam speaks again, “Time flies. The rascals need to go ready for bed soon. So, Trisha, you want to go to my house or stay here for the night?”

Trisha glances at me as if seeking my opinion. I look away quickly, not wanting to cause any misunderstanding.

“I’ll go to your house,” she says to Sam.

“Good,” Same says. “We’ll get going as soon as George is done talking to my dad.”

While they speak to each other, I look for Vivian again, but she isn’t around. David isn’t in the living room either. My pulse spikes. Where did they go?

I stand up, intending to look for my fiancée, but Sam stands up after me and pushes me back to my seat. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about!”

What’s she talking about? I want to excuse myself because Trisha and I speak on the phone often, and once in a while, we dine together.

But seeing Trisha’s eager smile, I sit back down.

“So, how’s the runway show preparation?” Trisha asks me as if to break the silence. For years, Trisha has been the lead model for Trend. After she retired from the vocation a few years back, she started a fashion line under my company and also her own modeling agency.

Fashion Week won’t begin until September, but the preparation started in April.

“The set designing is almost done, and they’ve recruited all the models and already rehearsed once.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Great. If there’s anything I can do, let me know. And I’ll always be your backup model.”

I thank her, and then we fall into an awkward silence. Frankly, I resent Sam for inviting Trisha. Although we broke up without a fight, and we’re still friends, and my engagement isn’t real, I still feel uncomfortable.

“I kept wondering how our engagement party would be like,” Trisha says suddenly, reminding me we broke up before we got the chance to plan a party.

I don’t respond because I don’t know what to say. It’s strange because she’s never brought up the topic until now.

It started with something unbelievably trivial. A month after I proposed to Trisha, I had a small family gathering at my penthouse in NY. I was playing with Jimmy, and Trisha was observing us on the side along with other members of the family. Mom said she couldn’t wait to see me holding my children in my arms and volunteer to babysit for us in the future. Trisha laughed and told Karen thanks but no thanks because she had no plan whatsoever to have babies. Karen didn’t take her seriously and told her not to be so sure because women tended to change their minds after marrying.  Trisha became agitated, and she said almost rudely that she was not like other women. I had always known she didn’t want to have kids, but like my mom, I was hoping she would change her mind. I knew she was a model and wanted to maintain her figure, but I thought she would give up her career and become a mom since she was pushing forty. At the moment, it was clear I was kidding myself. But I would still keep self-deceiving if my brother-in-law hadn’t asked, somehow thoughtlessly, why we bothered to get married at all if it weren’t for starting a family. I had no good answer for that, and Trisha said, “That’s a good question, George. I guess Alex’s proposal was simply too good.”

Everyone in the room laughed, but I was struck by lightning. Afterward, when we were alone, I had a serious talk with her to make sure she really had no intention of having kids. When she confirmed, I told her I was sorry and broke the engagement. In hindsight, I should have had that talk before proposing to her, but I was too self-confident.

I sigh at the recollection, but Trisha isn’t aware of my vexation. She says with an insincere smile, “So, Vivian is an intern at Trend? How long have you known her?”

“I’ve known her for a while,” I say, hoping she’d drop the topic. I don’t feel like discussing Vivian with her.

But she wouldn’t stop her inquisition. “She’s awfully young, Alex. I didn’t know you cared for immature girls.”

“People change,” I say tersely. And then I stand up. “It’s time I turn in. I have to fly back early in the morning.”

She stands up after me and grabs my arm. Taking a deep breath, she says, “You’re right, Alex. People change. I’ve changed, too.”

Not knowing what she’s getting at, I wait for her to speak again.

“Three years ago, I had no desire of having kids, but I do now.”

I blink as understanding dawns on me. She’s referring to our break up and she wants me back. Trisha is a proud woman, and I know it must take her tremendous effort to admit that. I should be flattered, but I’m also vexed. My feelings for her have worn out little by little during the years. Our relationship lasted a year after we broke the engagement, and after that, we were strictly business partners. Looking back, there was never much passion between us.

True, Trisha is a beautiful woman with refined manners. But she’s also reserved, and she has never given herself to me completely. She kept her thoughts and feelings to herself most of the time as if she distrusted me. I allowed her the space and the freedom because I respected her, and I didn’t think it was possible to own a person completely.

But when she made it clear she had no desire to have kids with me, I realized she had no plan to sacrifice anything for me at all, not to mention to be mine. I came to my senses right then. My love for her was primarily an appreciation of an artist for art. She was a living art when she was clothed in the products of my brand. Even now, I still appreciate her beauty, but the physical attraction between us has long gone.

My mouth hangs open for a second before I come up with a proper response. “That’s good to know,” I say, forcing a smile.

Her face is red first, and then the color dissipates. “Is that all you can say?”

“What do you want me to say?”

She bites her lips together, a gesture I’m familiar with that shows her frustration. “Let’s start all over, Alex.”

“Are you serious? Trisha?” I’m taken aback by her insistence, given that we haven’t been together for two years. “I’m engaged.”

She shrugged. “You aren’t serious about the engagement. It isn’t real.”

What? How does she know? I panic for a second. “How…why do you say that?”

“I can tell,” she says. “It’s just a show. Sam said Karen was putting pressure on you, so I guess you’re doing this to placate her.”

What a shrewd woman. But I don’t give anything away. “I hate to tell you, but you’re wrong about it. It’s real. Didn’t you see the ring on her finger? And the engagement party?” Not to mention the way I gaze at Vivian like a predator throughout the day?

“It’s all fake.” She insists and leans closer to me, her hand on my shoulder, smoothing my shirt. A proprietorship, as if she owns me. “You might be infatuated over her, but you’ll regret your rash decision. Sex isn’t everything in a relationship, Alex. What we have is more than that. We are friends and partners.”

Her persistence annoys me, and I back away from her. “Trisha,” I say to her frankly. “It’s over between us. Even if I weren’t engaged to Vivian, I have no desire to start over again with you.”

She looks wounded for a second, and she glares at me as if she wants to spit venom in my face. But she takes a deep breath and relaxes. “Fine. Just let’s see how long it takes you to break up this time.”

My jaw drops in disbelief. What an evil woman. I always know that Trisha has a vile streak in her under her cultured demeanor, but she usually hides it well. I guess she’s desperate. Good thing the engagement isn’t real to begin with, otherwise, it’d be such a bad omen. I resist the urge of telling her that her disinterest in having kids wasn’t really the reason for breaking our engagement, but what wiped out my feelings for her was her selfishness and the lack of trust between us.  I leave her without even saying good night.

 

Vivian is looking at her phone when I enter the bedroom. The sight of her in my bed, even though she’s sitting and in her pajamas, still sends a powerful jolt in my crotch.

“Hi!” she smiles at me, her eyes shimmer as they quickly travel along my body as if she hadn’t seen me all day.

“Hi!” I smile back. “Why’re you still up? We’ll be flying back six o’clock in the morning.”

“I know,” she says. “I’m just too excited to fall asleep.”

“What’re you reading?” I ask, getting closer to look at her screen.

“Nothing,” she says. “Just the pictures we took today. We look good together!”

I sit next to her and browse the photo gallery. She’s right. We look like a real couple—no wonder Trisha was jealous.

“Don’t let your dad see any of these before I tell him what happened,” I warn her. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I know.” She nods. “When will you tell him?”

“Later,” I say. “After the summer. Once you’re safe in France.”

She smiles. “Are you trying to protect me?”

Ah. That sultry smile. This little vixen knows I’m falling for her. I put on a pretense right away. “Not entirely,” I say with a shrug. “I also care about my friendship with him. He might be less angry when it’s told as history.”

She nods. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?”

“No,” I say. “Let me handle it.”

She stares at me with those shimmering blue eyes that make me shiver. My blood stirs as I imagine the meaning of the stare, and I look away. Does she want me as much as I want her? “Well, I should take a shower and get ready for…”

I haven’t finished my sentence when I feel a feathery touch on my cheek.

“Thank you, Alex,” Vivian whispers into my ear. “I had a fabulous fake engagement today.”

I chuckle at her comment and resist the urge to kiss her back because I know I wouldn’t stop at that. I stand up promptly. “Good to know that, Vivian. Good night!”

“Night!”

 

Vivian has fallen asleep when I step out of the bathroom, still holding her phone in hand. The lamp on the nightstand next to her is on. I grab my pillow and blanket from the bed, and then I drink in the sight of her lovely face before turning off the lamp. Unable to help myself, I bend over to stamp a kiss on her cheek. As soon as I do that, she stirs and lets out a tiny whimper.

“Alex?” she murmurs as her eyes flutter open.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t mean to wake you.”

The moment I turn off the light, she grabs my wrist. “Alex, sleep in the bed, please.”

I pause. I should say no because my dick is already hard at the touch of her hand and her husky voice. “Please,” she begs. “Just for a little while.”

“Sure,” I say and put the pillow and the blanket back onto the bed.

Vivian turns to face me after I lie down. “Is the model in the painting Trisha?”

I take a moment to realize what painting she’s talking about. “Yes.” It was done right before we broke up.

She scoots closer. “Why did you call off the engagement with her?”

I pause for a moment, wondering how much I should share with her. “We just realized we didn’t really need a marriage because Trisha didn’t want children.”

“Oh, that’s sad.”

I shrug. I don’t feel that sad. It’s a good thing I found out before marrying her. “Not every woman is destined to be a mother. Some are career types.”

She blinks for a moment. “What if I want both? Career and babies.”

“Of course you can have both. You’re young, sweetheart,” I say softly, reaching to brush her hair from her eyes. If you allowed me, I could give you everything you ever wanted.

“Good. I’ll build a career before I hit thirty, and then I’ll have babies. If I have a baby every two years, I can have five of them before I become forty,” she says dreamily.

“Five of them?” I am amused. “That’s a lot.”

“Not at all! Some people have ten. But I don’t want to look like my child’s grandma, so I need to stop at forty.”

I laugh again. “So, you have it all planned out? Do you have any boyfriend or candidate that will make your dream come true?”

She gazes at me for a moment and bites her lip. After a moment's pause, she shakes her head. “Not really.”

Her hesitation makes me think she isn’t speaking the truth, but I don’t press her.

“Whoever it turns out to be, he’ll be a lucky guy,” I say, not without feeling a bit of jealous. Hell, I’ll give anything just to fill her with those babies. I mean it. If only she isn’t John’s daughter, I’ll woo her right now.

“Thanks,” she says. “What about you? Are you and Trisha still seeing each other?”

I’m taken aback by the mention of Trisha again. “We still do, but we aren’t in a relationship anymore,” I say. “Why are you asking all these questions? Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

She giggles. “I’m not! I’m curious. I think she’s jealous of me. The way she glared at me as if she would eat me alive!”

“She wouldn’t dare,” I reach a hand to pat her back. “But it’s just the way she is. She’s intimidating. She’s used to having things her way.”

“So,” she asks again. “How long since you were last with a woman?”

I chuckle. Surprise again. The question stirs me, and I shift. “It’s been a while. But what’s got into you? You’re really into your role, aren’t you?”

“I am enjoying it. Too bad you aren’t paying me OT because I feel like doing extra.” Her voice is throaty, and her eyes shimmer in the darkness.

“What do you have in mind?” I ask in a gruff voice.

She doesn’t answer, but after the ruffling of the sheets, I feel her hand on my thigh and my breath catches.

I need to stop her. I hear a voice in my head. John will kill me if I let this carry on. But my animal instinct takes control of me, telling me it would be rude to refuse her offer like that. So I don’t stop her but feel her hand move higher inch by inch, timidly but with determination. And then it reaches my cock, which has turned to steel.

“Oh God!” Vivian giggles. “You’re so long, and thick!”

Fuck. Is she laughing at me? “Would you rather it be smaller?”

She keeps giggling, and her cheeks are crimson. “I don’t know! I guess the bigger the better.”

The way she answers my questions piques my curiosity. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen any?”

“I have,” she buries her face in her pillow as if to hide her embarrassment. “But I don’t have any preference in terms of size.”

“Well,” I say, my voice quivers a bit because, damn, her hand feels good on my cock even though she isn’t even moving and it isn’t a direct contact. God help me. Good thing it’s dark in the room. Otherwise, I might come just by the sight of it. “Sweetheart, you’d better take your hand off me. I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later.”

“I thought you wanted to try my other services in my fake-date package,” she says in a husky voice that makes me even harder.

Her hand freezes for a moment, and then to my surprise, it slips under the waistband of my PJ. Fuck! I swear the moment her soft hand touches my cock.

Moving closer, she peels my pants down to my waist with one hand while holding me with the other. She smears the precum over my hardness and makes squishy sounds as she strokes the stalk up and down.

Holy hell. “Wow, this is included in the package?” I say in order to deflect my embarrassment. I still have trouble separating the sexy woman next to me from John’s daughter.

“It’s a free service,” she says in a cooing voice and with a smirk.

And then, she takes me between her lips.

“Christ,” I say, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “This too?”

She laughs with me stuffing her mouth. Letting me out, she says, “It costs extra. Do you still want it?”

I don’t know she’s serious or not, but I say, “Hell yes. I’ll pay whatever you charge. Go on, please!”

She does what I say, taking her time with me, altering paces and forces. One moment she sucks me hard and makes me want to burst, the next she licks me unhurriedly, driving me mad. Damn. She’s good. Has she done it a lot? The thought she has taken other men in her pretty mouth makes me jealous. Despite my effort to remain calm, I fail. I reach to grab her tit and cup it firm. She moans and sinks lower until I feel her soft throat. My cock throbs in her mouth, and I explode.