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Lucy sets her drink down, her gaze flickering to mine with a spark of spontaneity. “Let’s play twenty questions,” she suggests, breaking the ice that had resettled between us after our earlier moment of charged silence.
I nod, intrigued by the chance to learn more about her. “You start,” I prompt, leaning back on my bench.
Her first question is light, easy. “Favorite color?” It’s simple, but her curiosity feels genuine. “Mine is blush.” Very specific.
“Blue,” I reply without hesitation as I stare into her sapphire eyes and then counter with, “Favorite movie?”
“Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” she answers, her lips curving in a smile that reaches her eyes.
“Really? I figured it would be The Wedding Planner,” I tease.
“Oh, God no! Hits too close to home.” She laughs. “Not that I’ve ever fallen for a groom.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“What’s yours?” she asks.
“I like thrillers. It’s hard to pick just one, but I’m going to have to go with Misery.”
We go back and forth, the questions gradually delving deeper than surface-level preferences like favorite food and music.
“What’s one place you’ve always wanted to visit?” she asks, her elbows resting on the table as she leans closer, genuinely interested in my response.
“Ireland,” I say, thinking of the rolling green hills and ancient castles I’ve only seen in pictures. “The history, the landscapes. It’s always called to me. Plus, a long line of accomplished writers are from there. How about you?”
“Abroad, it would have to be Paris. After all, it’s the city of love. But thanks to my love of classic films, I would also settle for Rome, Morocco, or London. Stateside would have to be NYC, Tiffany’s specifically.” She blushes.
“New York City is a world of its own, and I think we could definitely arrange a trip there.” I find myself offering to take her home before I can even think about it, and her eyes light up. Just the thought of her in my city, my penthouse, my bed—I clear my throat.
“What’s something you’re afraid of?” I ask honestly because this conversation is terrifying me. I’m trying to keep my distance, but it’s impossible… because she’s amazing. And I just want to hang on to this little bit of real I feel, even if it’s surrounded by pretense and playing pretend.
She hesitates, her vulnerability surfacing as she admits, “Losing people I love.”
That makes two of us. Her honesty catches me off guard, her fear mirroring my own experiences of loss. It’s a reminder of the real emotions at play, despite the charade we’re maintaining.
“Me too,” I admit.
As the game comes to an end, we both seem lost in our own thoughts.
“Lucy?”
“Hmm?” She looks up at me and takes a sip from her melting slushie.
“Can I ask you another question?”
“Sure.”
I pause, considering my next move carefully. “What really made you agree to this whole arrangement? Just your business or the exposure?” Or maybe me…
I don’t like being caught off guard, especially not by feelings I can’t control. But it’s like she opened Pandora’s box that night. And now, I don’t know what the fuck to do with them all.
She takes a moment. “I guess… well, the complicated answer is having something fake is better than not having anything real, at least to some people. But not me. I wish it could be enough. I wish I could have turned you down, but I was already in over my head. I didn’t want to let my family down. I could have dealt with a broken engagement and small-town gossip. Life without Henry wouldn’t have been much different than life with him because he was never around anyway. But the article is a chance to grow my business and—” She looks away, then back at me. “The simple answer, it’s the money.”
My heart sinks at her admission because somewhere deep down, I thought maybe she felt something too. But the money—that’s for the best. I’m not a happily ever after kind of guy. I can give her this article, I can give her a wedding, hell, I can even give her my last name, but I can’t give her the marriage she deserves.
Chapter 10
Beau
