Page 36 of Fake It For Glory

MERIDA

Jensen’s questions about my work and family were like landmines, and I had to sidestep them carefully. I couldn’t risk him finding out that I worked for Full Disclosure. So, instead, I steered the conversation toward safer topics, ones that wouldn’t give away my true identity.

“I love to write,” I began, my voice enthusiastic. “It’s my way of expressing myself and making sense of the world.”

Jensen’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t press for more details. Instead, he seemed genuinely interested as I shared other aspects of my life. “I enjoy dancing, movies, cooking, and, well, comfortable white sneakers. They’re my go-to footwear for pretty much any occasion.”

Then, out of nowhere, Jensen burst out laughing, startling me. I blinked at him in surprise, not sure what had triggered his sudden amusement.

He noticed my confusion and managed a smile. “I’m sorry, Merida. It’s just… I can’t believe you’re into white sneakers. It’s not what I expected. What is your attachment to them?”

I couldn’t help but join in his laughter. It was an unexpected moment of lightness, and it felt good to share a genuine laugh with him. It was as if, for a brief moment, we could put aside the charades and just enjoy each other’s company.

“I don’t think it’s an attachment,” I said. “It’s just that they’re comfortable and functional. I’ll have you know I walk a lot. I have seen plenty of people in the city that wear comfortable, sensible shoes when they are on their way to work.”

His lips quirked. “Sensible shoes should be left to nurses and old ladies. Or for the gym. Not for young, beautiful women.”

I felt my cheeks burn a little. It was a simple compliment but it meant a lot coming from him. “I wear heels. Sometimes.”

“I like those heels,” he said, nodding toward the black strappy sandals Hattie picked out for me.

“Your sister is a professional shopper,” I said, laughing.

He groaned. “Don’t I know it.”

“Does she dress you?”

He chuckled. “No, not entirely. She pointed me toward a tailor. She said my suits didn’t fit me right and I could afford to have custom suits made that fit me.”

I didn’t have to wonder why he needed bespoke suits. He was very tall and slender but it was clear he was also built. The suits looked damn good on him. As did the tux he was wearing.

“She knows what she’s doing,” I said.

“She should. She’s been spending my money since I started making it.”

We arrived at the event, hosted at a super fancy hotel in the heart of the city. The grandeur of the venue left me utterly breathless, and I couldn’t help but feel a little like Cinderella attending the ball. There was a red carpet leading to the front doors being opened by doormen wearing black suits and pristine white gloves. Handlers followed behind men and women dressed in gorgeous gowns and tuxedos. Photographers were busy snapping pictures as the couples posed.

“Jensen, this place is absolutely gorgeous!”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. “Just wait until the one in Paris.”

I gasped, my heart doing somersaults. “We’re going to Paris?”

Jensen put a reassuring hand in the small of my back, guiding me through the entrance where photographers eagerly snapped pictures of us. “Didn’t you read the schedule I had Hattie make up?” he asked, amusement tugging at the corners of his lips.

I bit my lower lip sheepishly. “I, uh, skimmed it. I’ll definitely give it a more thorough read tomorrow.”

As we stepped further into the dazzling event, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation. Paris sounded like a dream come true, and I couldn’t wait to see what other surprises this glamorous evening had in store for us. I thought the job was going to be a drag. I had no idea it was going to be so luxurious. I truly felt like I was in a dream.

“I would suggest you read it thoroughly,” Jensen said quietly. “You might find more surprises.”

Every word felt like a caress. We stepped into the opulent event. The room was filled with the rich and famous, all dressed in their finest attire, sipping on champagne and nibbling on hors d’oeuvres. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cologne, and the sound of laughter and chatter filled my ears. I couldn’t believe that I was here, among these people, living this life.

Jensen led me through the crowd, his hand resting on the small of my back. I felt the heat of his touch through the thin fabric of my dress, sending shivers down my spine. We stopped at a table, where a couple was already seated, their faces familiar to me.

“George,” Jensen said and put a hand on the man’s shoulder.

The man got to his feet and shook Jensen’s hand. “It’s good to see you,” the man said. “I wasn’t sure you would come tonight. I hope we can chat later. I’d like to run a few things by you.”