Fake Fiancée for Dad’s Best Friend by Gena Snow
Chapter 13
Alex
I’m at Trend’s quarterly board meeting. The sales manager is giving a summary of our last quarter’s performance using colorful charts and graphs on PowerPoint.
“Growth has slowed down in the last quarter. While we had 10% growth last Spring, this time, only 5%. Across market segments. The most growth occurs in sportswear instead of adult apparel like before, and the strongest consumer groups are women and men in the 50-and-up age group. This means we’re not attracting as many millennials. There are many reasons for that. The first one being our fashion design tends to be conservative, from colors to styles. Second, our items tend to be pricy. Thirdly, we haven’t taken enough advantages of technologies on marketing.”
I’ve anticipated the drop in growth but seeing the confirmation still disheartens me. I wait patiently for him to get to future marketing plans.
“We should invest more in innovative clothing lines that appeal to younger generations. We should also provide apps on our website that will make shopping experiences more personal and compelling. Finally, we should use apps such body scanning technologies to produce custom-fit garments to our consumers.”
Trisha, who’s a shareholder, doesn’t wait to express her opinions. “I object to the proposal regarding clothing styles. Since our major spenders are older adults, shifting to younger clothing lines will result in losing customers. Besides, younger consumers don’t spend as much as older ones. We’ll end up not only cheapening our brand but also losing profits.”
She’s got a point, but she might be biased as well because her brand T&T, targets older women.
I listen to a few more comments before making my own conclusion. “We’ll preserve our existing best-selling brands, cut productions on the less popular ones, and in the meantime, promote new ideas. The body scanning technologies will be a top priority among our future strategies.”
After the meeting, I return to my office. It has a fantastic view of the Hudson River. During a global economic downturn, our company isn’t doing bad at all, so I should really celebrate my success. I should order my secretary to organize a company party to thank my employees for their hard work. But I’m simply not in the mood.
Hell, I haven’t been in a good mood for a month, ever since I returned to New York from Santa Barbara. For twenty years, I’ve worked hard, had my share of failure and success, and my taste of bittersweet. I’m proud of myself until my conversation with my dad. When I was playing golf with him before my engagement party with Vivian, he said to me, “I’m glad you’re finally settling down, son. Career isn’t everything, and money isn’t everything. In fact, both of them serve the same purpose: a family.”
It wasn’t the first time my old man spoke to me about it, but for some reason, it impressed me more than ever, and it bothered me. Maybe because I felt guilty lying to him with a phony engagement, maybe it was the realization that Mike was getting old, and therefore, I was getting old. I contemplate the topic quite often lately.
I should settle down like Dad said. I should start looking for the right woman. But how and where can I find her? My thought turns to Vivian a lot, which annoys me because I shouldn’t. She’s off-limits. I shouldn’t have agreed to her plan in the first place, but I was desperate. Damn. I still can’t believe I let my self-control slip just like that. I nearly took her sweet cherry. And worst, I cannot forget her. After we left my parents’ estate, I think about her all the time, whenever my mind isn’t occupied with work. At night it’s the worst. My house feels empty, and I feel lonely in bed. When I close my eyes to sleep, I see her dreamy eyes when I made her come, and I crave her taste. Holy fuck. I’m hard even now as I remember her enticing body.
Knowing Vivian works one floor below me doesn’t make it easy. Sometimes I make an excuse to go down to speak to the fashion design director just to have a glimpse of her.
I know I could easily summon her to my office, but I don’t do it because God knows what I would do to her. I also know she would do what I want because she’s attracted to me. She did not have intimacy with me as a complement to the fake-date deal, as she jokingly put it. She did it because she wanted me. On our way back to New York, I had a hard time keeping a distance from her on the jet, especially when her eyes seemed to seldom leave me.
Last night I was on the verge of asking her out. I even had a pretty good reason. Namely, to keep up the appearance of our engagement by video-calling my parents since my mom asks about Vivian a lot. But I resist the urge. I shouldn’t continue the mistake. I’m not going to ruin the girl’s life. She has a bright future ahead of her. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA, and her supervisor has nothing but high regard for her. This girl is a gem. She deserves better than a man old enough to be her dad. Besides, John won’t forgive me when he finds out what I did to his daughter. I’m already guilty of deceiving him.
My office phone rings, and it’s my secretary Connie, reminding me it’s lunchtime.
“I’m going to Panera. What would you like to have?”
“The chicken salad sandwich I had last time was good. I’ll have it again.”
“Sure.”
“Wait!” I say to her before she hangs up. “Can I go with you?”
She pauses. “Of course, boss. Let me just place the order online and then we’ll go together.”
“Good.”
Connie has been working for me since the beginning of Trend. She’s a few years older than me, and I treat her like a big sister. Frankly, she’s closer to me than Sam is because I work with her every day.
We’re waiting for the elevator when Connie asks, “You finally got rid of your agoraphobia?”
That’s an old joke she uses from time to time because I seldom leave the building during work. I chuckle. “It’s about time.”
The elevator door opens, but the car it’s full, so we wait for the next one.
When we’re out on Madison, Connie asks, “So what happened to you, Alex?”
“What do you mean?” I blink. “Like I said, it’s about time I get out of my office.”
“It isn’t what I mean. You look and act differently ever since you came back from California. What did you do over there?”
Damn. This woman is observant. I chuckle. “Why do you think I’m different?”
She stares at me for a moment and shrugs. “You space out a lot. And you seem inattentive and disorganized. I’ve never seen you this way.”
“Oh!” She’s right about me, but I pretend to be unaware of the fact. “I guess I’m getting old, Connie.”
“Give me a break!” she cries. “I’m older than you. Are you saying I’m old?”
“Not at all, Connie. It isn’t what I mean…”
She chuckles. “Well, boss, I think you probably overworked. You need a break. You should probably take the afternoon off.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like you’re the boss!”
“I’m just saying.” She shrugs.
As much as I hate to take that advice, I must say it does sound tempting. The air out on the street isn’t much fresher than the one in my office, but I quite like the feeling of being temporarily off duty. But what am I going to do if I take the afternoon off? Wandering alone on the street like a homeless person?
It takes us but a few minutes’ walk to get to Panera. The place is crowded, but thankfully we don’t need to get in the order line.
While Connie gets to the front to pick up our order, my attention falls on a couple sitting in the far end of the dining area. The woman who sits with her back facing me wears a brilliant green shirt that reminds me of what Vivian wore the day we flew to Santa Barbara. The blonde curls tumbling down her shoulders look familiar, too. Damn. It is Vivian.
My pulse quickens, and my eyes naturally focus on the lad sitting across the table to her. He’s very handsome. His exquisite face shows a mixture of ethnic origins: Caucasian oblong frame and narrow straight nose, and Asian slanted eyes and broad cheekbones. He’s tall and slender and could make a perfect model. I continue to observe the young man out of professional habit, but when he reaches to touch Vivian’s chin with his thumb as if to wipe off a trace of something, I become uncontrollably jealous.
Who the hell is he? Vivian told me she had no boyfriend—a month ago.
Could they have just met? Does the fellow work for me as well? If he did, he would certainly be fired before long if he kept touching my fiancée like that. Is she still a virgin? Damn. Why am I wondering about this? It’s none of my business. She has no relation with me. She’s just my fake fiancée.
When our sandwiches are ready, I tell Connie I would rather eat in my office instead. She rolls her eyes and leave with me.
