The Game (13 page)

"Hey Stranger," I said, trying to sound casual and unaffected. "I thought you'd died. What happened?"

"Er--nothing. Um...how are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine. Great actually!" I lied. "So, what's up?"

He seemed to relax at my casual tone, maybe thinking he hadn't really offended me after his hasty exit. How I wished I could give him a piece of my mind, but I kept it to myself. Charlotte had given me good advice on how I should act when he called. She told me to cool off and listen to everything he had to say before I flipped my shit.

As much as he deserved to be raked over the coals, we still needed each other. The few days after he left had been a blessing in disguise. It let me cool down so the first rush of anger and rage had passed by unremarkably, with no one there to witness it or bear the brunt of it. Now, I could focus on the solution instead of fixating on my pride and ego.

"I just wanted to check on you--see how you were doing," he said. His voice sounded hesitant and unsure. I couldn't help the giant eye roll his words caused. If he were so worried about me, he could have called a lot sooner, I wanted to say. Instead, I clamped my mouth shut and waited for him to speak. "So uh...listen. I think we need to talk about what happened between us," he said.

"I don't," I said.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It was just sex, Rob, not a declaration of love. We're both adults here. I think we can handle that little hiccup in our plans as long as it doesn't happen again." I tried to sound casual and airy, and hoped I'd pulled it off. It was the hardest role I'd ever had to play.

"Oh, that's great then," Rob said, his voice rising in pitch. I didn't know if he sounded surprised or relieved. Maybe both. The thought sent my spirits sinking and I wanted to bang my head against the desk. Why did I feel anything at all? I thought I'd worked through all this, but it was getting harder than I thought to keep it strictly business.

"I don't know if you remembered, but my parent's anniversary party is this weekend," he said.

"I haven't forgotten."

"Great. I'll pick you up at 8 am on Friday? The plane is scheduled to take off at 10," he said.

"That works."

Our conversation was excruciating and stilted and it was a relief when he finally ended the call. I sat back and blew out a heavy breath. This was going to be harder than I thought. Even with the distance between us, things had been awkward. I wondered how we were going to pull off looking like a loving couple.

***

Rob arrived punctually at 8am. I had overslept and shot out the bed panicking as I looked at the clock.
Shit
! It was a good thing I'd had the foresight to have my bags packed the night before. They were already lined up in the foyer where my assistant had left them before she went home for the day.

I dashed into my bathroom and did a quick job of brushing my teeth and combing my hair. The makeup would have to be skipped for today. I just hoped there weren't any paparazzi buzzing around the airport to catch me. The last thing I needed was one of those "
Stars without Makeup
" spreads. I wouldn't put it past them to use Photoshop to make people look even more haggard than they actually were.

After I slipped on some jeans and my favorite white cable knit sweater, I went downstairs. Rob was pacing in the foyer, checking his watch occasionally. I hated the way my heart lurched when I saw him. He looked very handsome in a careless way. He wore grey slacks with a crisp white button up shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his tanned forearms. And there was the perpetual stubble that graced his well-defined jaw. When he heard me, he looked up, his mouth turned down in a frown.

"It's 8:20," he said in greeting.

After the way he left me the last time we were together, he had some nerve coming in my house and giving me attitude. But I had to bury my annoyance. Getting into an argument the first thing in the morning was something I wanted to avoid, so I smiled sweetly instead.

"I'm sorry. I overslept," I said.

Rob shook his head in exasperation and headed toward my bags. He picked them up and began walking to the front door. I followed behind him, picking up my carry on that he'd left behind. He was handing my bags to his driver to be stored in the trunk as I came outside.

"We'll have to hurry. We're running late," he said as he opened the door for me.

"What's the rush? I thought you said the plane doesn't leave until 10?" I said.

He didn't say anything, and waited for me to get in the car. He was making it very hard for me to keep things civil between us. It was like he had a stick up his butt for no reason. I looked out my window the whole ride to the airport, not trusting myself to say anything to him. Occasionally though, I'd glance his way. Rob looked tense and I wondered if he was that upset that I'd overslept, or if it was something else.

"What time are we arriving in London?" I asked eventually.

"Around 8pm," he answered.

"And what are our plans after that?" I asked.

Now that the question had left my lips, I wondered why I hadn't thought to ask it sooner. Every time he mentioned the anniversary party, it'd been some vague thing far off in the distance. Now that we were actually going, I had no idea what to expect or what the plans were. It seemed like something I should have known or been told.

"We'll stay overnight in London before heading to my parent's estate. It's in Surrey. That's where we'll be staying for the weekend," he said.

I tried to ask him about his parents and the estate, but it was like pulling teeth getting him to talk. Eventually, I gave up and continued the ride in silence. We arrived at the airport and made it on the plane with no hiccups. In fact, we had some time left before 10am. I looked over at Rob, tempted to rub it in his face, but he had his head turned away as he stared out the window. It was obvious that he didn't want to talk. He probably didn't even want me on the plane with him.

I leaned my chair back and closed my eyes. If he were going to be such a grump, there was no point even trying. I was still tired from having to wake up earlier than I normally did, and sleeping through the flight was better than sitting in awkward silence with Rob.

Chapter 15: Rob

I took another sip of my whisky and looked out the window. I had to stop staring at Emilia. She fell asleep soon after takeoff and had been sleeping peacefully in her seat. I knew I was being a complete ass to her, but I didn't know any other way to act. If I showed her too much attention, she might think I'd changed my mind about our agreement.

Even though she seemed unphased by the sex, I didn't want to take any chances. I ignored that slight twinge of disappointment I felt when she had announced how meaningless it was for her. It was for the best that she felt that way. But even as I told myself that, I couldn't deny that I still wanted her. She was intoxicating and something about her drew me in--more than anyone I'd ever been with. But I knew it would be a huge mistake to act on my feelings, so I pushed her away.

I gulped down the rest of my whisky and refilled my glass. This trip couldn't have come at a worse time. We had to be thrown in each other's company all weekend, pretending to be engaged, when there was still so much uncertainty and tension between us. I decided after the weekend, I'd have to seriously limit my time with Emilia.

I'd fly back to New York and go back to my life while she did what she had to do in LA. When she needed me out there to escort her to some event, I'd go, but after award season was over, and she no longer needed me anymore, it was over. I just hoped we could both get out of this weekend unscathed.

My mother had invited pretty much the whole county to her and Dad's anniversary party. All our closest and not so close family and friends would be there, as well as neighbors, Dad's old business associates, their kids, and anyone else Mum could think of. It was going to be dreadful, but I also appreciated it because the house would be full, and that'd be less opportunity for Emilia and I to be alone together.

Roman and Lily were going to be there as well. I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing yet. On the one hand, Roman would be the perfect person to confide in. He already knew my relationship with Emilia was all a ruse. But I wasn't sure I wanted to divulge all my innermost feelings to him. He'd never let me hear the end of it. He'd probably run and tell Lily and they'd be insufferable.

Emilia stirred in her seat as the plane began its descent into London. I turned my head to look at her again, drinking in the sight before she opened her eyes and was fully awake. The thought flittered through my mind of what it'd be like to wake up next to her every morning, with her lips plump and red, her hair tousled from sleep and a lazy smile on her face as she awoke. I put that picture out of my mind and turned to face the window again. That feeling of longing crept to my heart, and I cursed myself for being so stupid.

Emilia was fully awake when the plane landed smoothly on the runway. A black Range Rover was waiting for us at the airport, ready to take us to my townhouse. I had debated whether to book a room for her at a hotel, especially after our night together, but thought that'd look too suspicious. We were an engaged couple, after all. If word got out that she stayed in a hotel while I stayed at my townhouse, I could just imagine what the press would make of that.

Emilia didn't seem surprised or phased at all as we pulled up to my house. Once inside, I gave her a quick tour, but she still seemed a bit dazed and sleepy, so I showed her to her room and left. Even though it was not even midnight, I decided to call it an early night as well. Staying up and obsessing over the fact that Emilia was under my roof, not 20 feet away from me across the hall was not something I wanted to do. The weekend ahead would be taxing enough, and I needed to be at the top of my game.

I fell asleep once my head hit the pillow, more tired than I thought. Thankfully, it was an uninterrupted, dreamless sleep, and I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. We were on the road to my parents' estate after a quick breakfast. The drive from my place to the estate took longer than usual due to traffic. But as we got closer, I could see Emilia perk up. Seeing her reaction to the surroundings made me wonder what she thought of my little corner of the world.

I wanted to tell her all about the place, share stories about my childhood here, and interesting tidbits about some of the people I'd grown up with, but the words wouldn't come out. I didn't know why I felt so inhibited around her now.

"Are we almost there yet?" she asked, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Yes, not much further," I said.

I wanted to see her reaction when the car crested over the hill and Kettering Hall came into view. It was a beautiful estate. The grounds were well maintained and the house was magnificent. While many of the other great estates had been destroyed, sold, or left to crumble, Kettering Hall was as grand as it ever was. My family reinvested in the estate, modernized, and made sure the next generation took an equal, if not greater interest in maintaining the great house.

I'd never really given much thought to the place as a kid, or even as an adult, really. The family fortune had long since stopped being reliant on land and farming, and we had groundskeepers and other workers to help maintain the land. It was just something that was always there, almost like a family member. But coming here with Emilia, and seeing it through her eyes gave me a different kind of perspective.
Was it pride
? I'd never seen fit to brag about living in a big drafty old house, but this place had history, hundreds of years of my family's history.

I heard her suck in a sharp gasp as the house came into view. The house looked impressive--a stately Palladian mansion fronted by a huge man-made lake. Even though it was almost winter, and the grounds had frosted over, the house had never looked more beautiful. I felt a blossoming sense of pride.

"It's beautiful," she said in awe.

"It is," I said.

We rode down the slope toward the circular drive of the house. Stella stood on the steps waiting for us. She broke out into a grin when she saw me step out of the car.

"Thank goodness you're here!" she exclaimed.

I bopped her nose and gave her a hug. "Why don't I like the sound of that?" I asked.

"What? Can't I be happy my big brother is here?" she asked, sounding too innocent to be believed.

"No. You've never been happy to see me before," I said.

She punched my arm playfully before turning her attention to Emilia. "Oh right, Stella this is Emilia. Emilia, Stella," I said making the introductions. Stella looked at me incredulously before she gave an unladylike snort.

"We
have
met before, Rob. You remember at Ryan's house in the Hamptons?" Stella said. She turned her attention to Emilia and leaned in to kiss her cheeks. "It's nice to see you again."

"Nice to see you too. You have a beautiful home," Emilia said.

Stella looked back at the house like she was just noticing it for the first time. "It is nice, but rather big. Half the rooms are closed off or under renovation, and the other half are for public viewing. We only occupy a tiny bit of living space," she said carelessly.

Emilia smiled politely, but didn't say anything. I wondered what she thought. I'd never paid much attention to the space, but since visiting Emilia's childhood home, I could see and understand the disparity between our lives a lot better. She could have probably fit at least ten of her homes in just the east wing of our estate.

"Come inside. Mum and Dad are waiting to meet you," Stella said, interrupting my thoughts. She walked back into the house and Emilia and I trailed her.

"Are you ready for this?" I asked, looking over at her.

She was biting her bottom lip in nervousness and I could see her shoulders were tense. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said.