Don't Walk Away: A Second Chance Fake Fiance Romance Read online
Page 16
“Take a seat, Mr. Bell,” she said.
“Hanson, please,” I said.
“Hanson,” she said and nodded.
I liked the way my name sounded in her mouth. I could imagine her on her back, naked, her eyes closed and her lips mumbling, or screaming, my name.
“Let’s get down to business,” she said.
“What did you have in mind?”
I had an idea of what business I would like to get down to, with her.
She glanced at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Did she even like what she saw?
She must have worked with a lot of famous people, but I didn’t rely on my fame. I was skilled in other areas, and I got what I wanted, when I wanted it.
“Have I mentioned how good you look today?” I asked when she didn’t answer me.
“Look, Mr. Bell… Hanson. Let’s be honest with each other. You’re not the kind of person that wants to go as far as a conversation with a woman. I’m not here to do anything else than talk. We’re going to have to find middle ground if we’re going to work together.”
I smiled. “So, a little bit of both?”
She didn’t look impressed.
“Don’t,” she said. “Women fall at your feet. I understand that’s what you’re used to. I want you to see me as an equal, a business partner, if you will. Someone who will give you what you need, not what you want.”
I shrugged. “And if those things are one and the same?”
“What you need is to salvage your reputation. What you want is to get into my pants. I think we both know which one we’re going to prioritize here.”
“Are you always this cold?”
She looked at me, and her eyes were the color of the sky, so bright I felt like I could see for miles.
“I’m good at my job,” she said. It wasn’t an answer. “Speaking of which, we’re going to start off your rehabilitation with a bang.”
I grinned again. A bang. She shook her head, realizing what she’d done.
“Seriously,” she said. “You’re like a teenager.”
I shrugged.
“What did you have in mind?” I asked her again.
She didn’t respond. Again. She was complicated. She just wasn’t turned on by me or by my approach. She was a challenge. That made me want her even more, because, like I said, I happened to like challenges.
“What are you doing this weekend?” I asked.
“I’m going out with you,” she said.
I blinked at her. “What?”
This chick was two steps ahead of me, it seemed. Fucking women these days. So damn driven.
“We are attending a charity event tomorrow evening. They’re taking donations for a new children’s wing at Jackson Memorial Hospital.”
I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t what I’d had in mind when she’d said she would go out with me. Of course, she was messing with me. Hot, unavailable, and apparently, full of shit. This was exactly the kind of woman I wanted to pursue.
I shook my head. “I’ve got something planned already tomorrow.”
“Cancel it. This is important.”
“Can’t we do it another Saturday?”
“Sure,” she said. “I’ll call them and ask them to move the entire charity for your convenience.”
I realized she was being sarcastic with me.
“Funny,” I said.
She looked up at me, her face still as closed off as before. I didn’t know what to think of her or how to judge her reactions. She looked completely uninterested. It made me want to try harder and harder to get her to crack and get something out of her.
A couple of orgasms would be a great start.
“It’s a formal event. Black tie. I expect you to wear a suit. We should meet up a little earlier to discuss your approach. So be ready by six.”
I shook my head. “You didn’t once ask if I want to attend this event.”
She looked up at me. Her eyes were piercing on the surface but underneath they looked deep enough to drown in.
“You’re right. I didn’t,” she finally said. “But did your team ask if you wanted to be suspended for a DUI? Did you ask all those women in the tabloids with you if they wanted to be dragged down with you in your spiral of embarrassment?”
I gaped at her, speechless for once in my life.
“Looks like we’re on the same page, then,” she said.
She wasn’t fucking around. Lacey Townsend had been serious when she’d said, “let’s get down to business.”
“Just so you know,” I told her. “That DUI charge? It was bogus.”
“That’s what they all say,” she said.
“I’m serious.” I looked at her, pleading with her to listen. Finally she stared back, ready for my explanation. “I never even drive myself. I have a chauffeur. I was just in the limo. I was sleeping.”
“Well, Florida has a law that says if the keys are in your hand or even near you, then that satisfies the intent element,” she said, with the knowledgeable air of someone who had plenty of clients who had had DUIs before.
“Exactly,” I told her. “So, that’s the issue. I shouldn’t have gotten a DUI. But it wasn’t as bad at it sounds.”
She shrugged, unimpressed.
“When it comes down to it, it doesn’t really matter,” she says. “It makes no difference to the public how you got the DUI, because they don’t pay attention to the details. They just care that you got one. And now, they care what you’re going to do about it.”
She was a tough cookie. What was I going to do about it? I had no clue. I had just been planning to live my life but apparently she and Coach Thompson had other plans for me.
“What am I doing here?” I asked.
“You’re here because you need your image cleaned up if you want people to see you differently. Right now, you’re the party guy, the guy who gets the girls and the booze. Not the wins.”
I frowned. “I get wins.”
She shook her head. “But that’s not what you’re famous for. You can’t tell me you like the way you’re being portrayed in the media.”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care.”
Lacey nodded. “I can see that. Maybe it’s time you start caring. Your career is dependent on your image. It’s already gotten you in trouble.”
I shook my head. “What got me in trouble is an unfortunate car crash.”
“You’re right. It was an unfortunate crash. But you know what they’re saying about that. That it was just a matter of time before something like that happened. That you were heading in that direction for a long time. That you celebrated your survival from that crash with two more women.”
I just blinked at her. It was true. They did say those things about me. But that didn’t change how women saw me or how well I played football.
“If I’m going to give up who I am for the sake of other people, there will be nothing left.”
Lacey nodded. “I understand. But I’m not trying to change you. I’m just going to ask you to change what you show the rest of the world.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “So, I don’t have to give up alcohol or women?”
She looked at me long enough without answering that I got the idea. I was going to have to change, wasn’t I?
“For a while, you might want to watch what you’re doing.”
I rolled my eyes. “What if I don’t want to?”
I realized how childish it sounded. She’d already called me a teenager once. But I didn’t want to do what she told me. I didn’t want to watch what I was doing. I wasn’t used to it. And I didn’t want to have to start.
“Look, Hanson, let’s be honest with each other. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. No one is holding a gun to your head and telling you that you must change. But if you don’t, you’re out of a job. All your hard work would have been for nothing. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”
I shook my head. “I never really understood tha
t saying.”
A voice in the back of my head told me maybe that was because I’d always gotten what I wanted. Fuck. She was already messing with my mind.
Lacey shook her head. “I’ve been hired to do my job. I’m not going to stop doing it until I’m told to let it go by my boss. So, until then, you’re stuck with me, and we’re going to go through the motions to get you socially acceptable.”
I didn’t like being told what to do, but I didn’t see another way out. I nodded.
“I’ll see you on Saturday at six,” she said. “Don’t be late.”
I didn’t know what to say. She was a battle axe. An interesting, stubborn, sexy-as-hell battle axe. Her office phone rang, and she picked up the receiver, pressing her hand over the mouth-piece.
“Can you find your way out?” she asked.
I nodded. She pressed the phone against her ear. I’d been dismissed.
I, Hanson Bell, the man that women never rejected, had just literally been told to see myself out. This woman was more of a challenge than any I had ever met before. And, probably because of that very fact, I found myself wanting her even more.
Chapter 10 – Hanson
When I left Lacey’s office, I was irritated. I usually walked away from a woman feeling on top of things. Sometimes literally. Instead, she had taken me for a ride. And not in the fun way.
I got into my car and drove to the training facility. I was meeting up with Brian for a workout. I wanted to show Coach I was as dedicated and committed as I had said I would be. I also needed to work out some of my frustration.
“What’s gotten you so worked up?” Brian asked when I was on my fifth set of twenty on the weights.
“Nothing,” I said.
“That doesn’t look like nothing,” Brian said. He was on his second set of bicep curls.
“It’s that PR Manager,” I said. “Lacey. I met with her just before I came here. She really rubs me the wrong way.”
What I meant was that I wanted to rub her the right way, but she wouldn't let me. I wasn't about to admit that to Brian, though. I'd just get some (probably well deserved) lecture about keeping my eye on the prize.
I put the weights on the stand and sat up, searching for my water bottle. When I found it, I squirted water all over my face before drinking the rest of it.
“Is she a pain?” Brian asked.
I nodded. “An enormous pain. But God, it makes me want her.”
Shit. I'd let it slip out. Brian was like a brother to me and I could never hold anything back from him.
Brian chuckled. “That sounds more like you. I was worried for a moment that you’d found a woman you weren’t attracted to.”
I shot him a glare. I knew I'd regret mentioning anything about Lacey to him.
“It’s not my attraction to her that’s the problem,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to be attracted to me. At all.”
Brian shook his head, smiling. “Imagine, Hanson Bell has met his match.”
“Shut up,” I said, putting my bottle down and walking to the treadmill.
“What about her makes you care so much?” Brian asked. “I’m sure you can just find someone else.”
I nodded. “Of course. But I don’t want someone else. I want her.”
“Because you can’t have her?”
Yes.
“No. Because she’s hot. God, you should see this woman. She’s got it all. The body, the face, the mind. Too bad she’s just all about business.”
Brian shook his head, letting his weights drop for a breather.
“Maybe you should just play with the women who want to, you know? It would probably work out for the best that way anyway. If you slept with your PR Manager, the one who's trying to clean up your image, that would just be ironic.”
“What it will be,” I said, pushing up the speed on the treadmill, “is an achievement. And I’m all about success.”
Brian shook his head without answering. I pushed the treadmill faster and faster. I wanted Lacey Townsend. I wanted to fuck her. The fact that she didn’t want me just made it that much worse. I didn’t just want her. I wanted her to want me, too. That was the challenge.
I always got what I wanted, and this time would be no different.
Chapter 11 – Lacey
I woke up at sunrise on Saturday morning and went for a jog. It was the best stress release I knew of, and the morning was fresh and crisp. On weekends, no one was out at this time, and I had the road to myself. My feet beat out a tattoo on the road, and the rhythm was soothing.
By the time I got back home, the rest of the world was waking up. I glanced at the clock above my television. It was too early to phone Hanson. I needed to speak to him before our charity ball tonight. But it would have to wait.
I got into the shower, cleaned myself up, and dried my hair before I tried phoning him. When he answered, he sounded groggy.
“Did I wake you?” I asked.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“Did you find a suit?”
He groaned. “I have a contact. She’s got one ready for me. I’m picking it up at lunch. Relax your panties.”
I rolled my eyes. Hanson Bell had made over a billion dollars from playing football and he didn't even have a suit. Why was I not surprised?
“Just be ready at six, okay?”
“Yeah, you said,” he answered.
I was about to hang up when Hanson said my name. “Lacey?”
“Yeah?” I asked, pressing the phone back to my ear.
“Let’s go out to dinner before the event.”
I hesitated before I answered.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
I walked to the kitchen and turned on my coffee machine. I needed a pick me up if I was going to have to deal with Hanson today.
“It’s not like a date or anything,” he said. “You said we had to discuss the event before we go. We both have to eat. Why not combine it?”
I swallowed. “It’s strictly business.”
“Of course,” Hanson said. “I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”
Yeah, right. Hanson would dream of exactly one thing and one thing only, if I had sized him up correctly.
“Meet me at Zuma,” he said. “I’ll send you a car.”
“I’m sure I can find it,” I said.
Zuma was one of top Japanese restaurants in Miami. Of course, for someone like Hanson, going to places like Zuma or KYU or the White Room was right in his price class.
“I’m sending you a car,” he insisted. “It will be easier to go together that way.”
I had to agree. I never like to be carted around by a man, and certainly didn’t want to be right now, but I guess I could compromise for one night.
“I’ll be there,” I said and hung up.
I looked at my phone. This was just professional. He’d said so himself. Nothing to worry about. Besides, he’d been trying to get to me from the moment I’d met him. It hadn’t been easy to keep him at arm’s length.
Hanson had something about him that made me want to respond to him. It made me want to give him what he was asking for. That wasn’t going to happen. He was a client, and I was stronger than that. I had managed to shut him down so far.
Dinner tonight wouldn’t be a problem.
Would it?
Chapter 12 – Lacey
I opened my closet and looked around. I had nothing I could wear that would work for a black-tie charity ball. I had been to a couple of upper-class parties with clients, but nothing as formal as the one we were going to tonight.
I really wasn't one to talk about Hanson. But it wasn't as if I was some big baller like he was. If so, I would definitely have a closet of amazingly expensive and fancy clothes.
But as it was, I needed to go shopping. I dialed Kina’s number.
“Come shopping with me,” I said. “I have a hot date, and I need to look the part.”
“Oh, with who?” she asked.
“Just a cli
ent,” I said. “But I need to spend money to fit in, so we’re talking boutiques.”
Kina agreed right away, and I picked her up on the way into town.
“We have to go to JDO Couture,” Kina said. “You said you needed to spend money. That’s the place to go, in such a situation.”
I smiled and let her direct me. We parked and walked into the boutique. It was the kind of place that made you feel like a goddess as soon as you stepped through the door. A shop assistant came to us with a broad, dark red smile.
“Welcome to Jus d’Orange Couture, ladies. How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for something formal,” I said.
“And sexy,” Kina added. “She wants to look sexy.”
I glanced at Kina. She was smiling at me.
The shop assistant brought me an array of dresses in my size, which was extra impressive because I hadn’t told her my size. Then, I was led to a dressing room where I could try them on.
“So, a date with Hanson Bell, huh?” Kina asked, sitting outside the dressing room.
“It’s not a date,” I said, trying to get into the first dress. “It’s business. It’s for him. If it were a date, it would be for me.”
“So, if it’s business, whose place do you go to for sex afterward?”
I shook my head.
“I’m not going to sleep with him,” I said. “He’s a client. It’s a rule.”
“Is it your rule or the company’s?”
I turned around and looked at myself from all angles. I stepped out of the dressing room to show Kina.
“I don't know but it should be both," I said, after considering it. “Either way, I don’t sleep with my clients.”
Kina shook her head at the dress. “I don’t think this is the one.” She looked at me. “You wish you could sleep with him, right? He’s a football player. I can just imagine what his body must be like. How good he must be in bed, as an athlete.”
I locked myself in the fitting room's cubicle again.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “I’ve seen what there is to see. If you've seen one set of abs and a big dick, you’ve seen them all. And believe me, I've seen a lot."