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I look at him, kicking myself for not being able to just play along. If he has any idea how nervous I am, he doesn’t show it.
“For those of you who don’t know, Pearl here has been my loving, supportive girlfriend for over two wonderful years. Pearl, I am honored and awestruck every single day we are together. Your smile lights up my world, baby.” River pauses for dramatic effect, wiggling his eyebrows. “I want everyone to know that you are my world.”
My stomach flip-flops. I could die at this moment. And I do not mean in a fun, happy way.
“I… love you too?” I say. It comes out as more of a question.
River stares down at me, seeming enraptured. “You complete me. If soul mates exist, you’re definitely mine.”
Gag. His playacting is way over the top.
I nod, forcing myself to speak. “You too, baby. You’re… my other half.”
River looks to the audience for support. “Isn’t she great? How about a round of applause for my lovely girlfriend?”
The crowd breaks into gentle cheers and whistles. Before I can respond in the slightest way, River pulls me in his arms, dips me backward, and kisses me.
His lips are hot and sweet. He molds me against his body. For a moment, I fall under his spell. I kiss him back.
I forget, for just a second, that we’re deceiving everyone.
River breaks the kiss and smirks down at me.
“Well done,” he whispers in my ear. “I think it’s fooling everyone.”
I swallow and give him a tight smile. “Think so?”
Maybe I’m fooling myself. But I feel like maybe… just maybe, it means something.
Eleven
River
I’m standing by my desk at the offices of the Bennett-Taylor Real Estate, peering down at a set of blueprints. My office is at the front of the building, and light pours in through a large picture window. From here, I have a decent view of Cape Simon’s quaint downtown strip. Beyond that is the sandy strip of seashore. But I can’t really see that unless I press my face against the window just so.
Trust me, I’ve tried.
Leaning over to the intercom on my desk, I press the discreetly-placed button. “Hey Wesley? Could you bring in the remaining proposals for the Jackson land?”
I hear my assistant rummaging about in the other room. Then he taps the intercom. “Yep!”
Wesley comes in with an armful of rolled up blueprints. He is dressed to the nines in dark slacks, a yellow silk button-up shirt, and stylish black suspenders. He’s dark skinned. He keeps his head shaved smooth on the sides, and gathers the neat dreads along his crown into a topknot. Today, he sports a gold chain around one wrist and a matching gold pinky ring on the other hand.
My part-time assistant is always the peak of style.
He lays the blueprints down on my desk and purses his lips. He starts tidying the stack of blueprints that are on the desk, then glances at my drafting table. I’m not an architect, but having a drafting table does make it easier to make notes on the actual blueprints themselves. On the table, several file folders are open, and dozens of loose contracts lay there in disarray.
“What have you been doing in here?” Wesley asks. His voice chides me as he walks over to the table. Wesley is the only one that gets to talk to me like I’m a kid.
I sigh and throw up my hands. “I haven’t seen a single proposal for the Jackson property that I like. When I met with these contractors, I described exactly the style of resort that I’m looking for, and exactly how big it needs to be. I even gave the businesses a rough sketch of the property.” I pick up a blueprint, frowning. “But most of them completely ignored my ideas. They just sent me blueprints for buildings that are on flat land. I guess they expect me to bulldoze the land.”
Wesley stacks all the contracts and jogs them. “Maybe you can pick and choose from a few of the proposals. Maybe one has a great main lodge. Another has a great overall layout. Like that.”
Squinting, I rub my eyes. “I feel like I’ve been staring at them forever,” I sigh. I stretch my arms up over my head and walk toward the front window. I lean one arm against the glass and let my head hit it with a thunk. “You’re probably right. At the very least, I’ll have to go back to all the contractors and have them deliver a second draft.”
Wesley places the contracts in a neat stack on my drafting table. Then he turns and glances at me. “I’m supposed to leave in an hour to lead a class on personal expression at the community center. But I can be a little late if you think you’ll need me.”
“You’ve done plenty.” I pull a face. “Go ahead and get out of here a little early. Nothing groundbreaking is going to happen today.”
