The Game (4 page)

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Authors: Calista Kyle

BOOK: The Game
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She paused, taking a deep breath as if gathering her courage. "I'm listening," I said, trying to encourage her to speak.

"I need you to pretend to be my fiancé," she rushed out. "Only for a few months until the scandal fades away."

I sat in stunned silence. Of all the things she could have told me, this was the last one I'd expected. I marveled at my luck.

"It would only be for a few months and you would be generously compensated," she added.

"Is that so?" I asked.

A little bit of color rushed up from her neck to her cheeks, and I found the sight of her embarrassment charming. The Emilia Holliday I knew hardly let anything embarrass or upset her composure, so it was nice to actually see her showing some vulnerability.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, believe me, and I'm pretty embarrassed to have to ask you, but I need your help. You wouldn't need to do anything, really. Just attend some events with me, pose for some pictures, and at the end of eight months or so, once the scandal has died down, we can both walk away."

"I'm flattered," I said. The truth was, I was ecstatic. This was much easier than I could have ever anticipated. Emilia's shoulders slumped slightly, obviously expecting me to turn down her offer.

"Listen, you don't have to say anymore," she began. "I completely understand it's crazy. I just ask that you keep this conversation private."

"I was just going to say that I'll agree to the fake engagement," I said.

Her face lit up and she beamed at me. "You will?" she asked.

"Yes. But we need some guidelines."

"Of course. I've already come up with some. It's all included in the contract," she said a little sheepishly. "I just want to make sure all the I's are dotted and T's are crossed. I don't want any misunderstandings and hurt feelings."

"I agree. I want to make it very clear that this is a fake engagement, and there's not going to be the possibility of anything more. The last thing I need or want is to be getting married. As long as we're clear on that, then I'll agree."

"Don't worry about me getting any romantic ideas," she said. "This is strictly business for me. Thank you so much for your help."

"You don't have to thank me. You're actually doing me a favor too," I admitted.

"How so?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing--to pretend to be my fiancée--before you spoke."

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. "You're kidding."

"Not at all. It's actually pretty funny that we're both sort of in the same boat when you think about it."

"I know why I need one, but why do you need one?" she asked.

"Let's just say I want to teach my mother a lesson."

"And you thought of me immediately?" she asked.

I hesitated before speaking. I didn't want to offend her with my answer. The truth was, she was the last person my mother would want me to settle down with. She wasn't the refined, prim and proper Miss I'm sure my mother preferred. Quite the opposite in fact, which was what made her perfect for the role.

"Sort of," I hedged. "I saw your picture in one of the magazines and remembered our time together. I figured it'd be easier to pull this off with someone I already had a connection to."

She nodded in understanding. "I see," she said.

"Well, I'm glad you called me. I think this can be beneficial for the both of us," she said, a smile playing on her lips.

Her phone rang and she looked at me apologetically before answering. I stood up from my chair and stretched my legs, smiling at how easy it had all been. Hopefully by the time our fake engagement came to an end, my mother would be so relieved, she'd never bother me about settling down again.

"I'm sorry," I heard her say, once she had ended her conversation. "I've got to cut our meeting short. I've got another appointment to go to, but if we're all agreed, I'd like to meet up again in a couple of days at my lawyer's office and get all the paperwork out of the way. I'll send you a copy of the contract we've drawn up so you can look it over."

"Sounds perfect," I said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 4: Emilia

 

He was late. I sat in my seat and fidgeted before shooting back up to pace the well appointed office of my lawyer, Carl Casner. We had agreed to meet today to sign the contracts and begin our fake relationship. Things seemed to have gone smoothly--almost too smoothly. Now sitting in my lawyer's office, I wondered if he had gotten cold feet.

Even though this wasn't a real relationship, there was still a certain amount of commitment involved, and the Rob I knew ran at the first sign of commitment. He was one of those guys that clung tightly, almost defiantly, to his bachelor lifestyle. When we first met, one of the first things he told me was that he wasn't looking for anything serious.

I couldn't blame him and actually appreciated his honesty. I hadn't been looking to be tied down either. My career was just taking off and I had the whole world at my fingertips. Being with Rob was a fun distraction. It didn't hurt that he was handsome, charming and filthy rich. Not that I needed the money, but being seen around town with a billionaire was great for publicity, and it added a certain cachet to my reputation. When I got offered the role in
The Time Warden
, I jumped at the chance and never looked back. That had been the end of our relationship, and I couldn't say I regretted it one way or the other.

A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Carl's secretary peeked her head in. "Mr. Benedict is here," she said.

"Please show him in," Carl answered.

I sat back down on the leather couch and folded my hands in my lap, feeling a sudden, inexplicable nervousness. Rob walked in and flashed us both a bright smile. I found myself holding my breath and releasing it slowly as he sat down. I didn't know why I had this reaction to him. Sure he was handsome--with dark brown hair that waved slightly, curling over his brow, deep piercing grey eyes, and a perpetual five o'clock shadow. Not to mention that smile. If he could bottle that boyish, sexy grin and sell it he'd make a mint. But I was no stranger to handsome men. I worked with some of the most beautiful men in show business, but Rob was in another league. He had movie star looks with none of the vanity and self awareness so typical in male actors.

"I'm so sorry I'm late," he said, taking the seat opposite me. "I got held up in another meeting."

"Don't worry about it. We haven't been waiting long," I lied.

"Yes, Mr. Benedict. I trust you've had a chance to look over the contracts," Carl asked, striding over to shake Rob's hand.

"I have. There are some points I'd like clarification on," he said.

"Such as?" I asked.

He turned his gaze to me before reaching into his pocket and drawing out the contract. His finger traced over the paper until he got to the section he was looking for. "Well, it says that there will be no sexual relations between both parties--"

"Yes? What's the problem," I said narrowing my eyes at him.

"Then here it says;
'During the period the contract is in effect, neither party will engage in any outside relationship or engage in sexual relations with outside parties
'," he said. He looked up from the contract and frowned. "The contract is for eight months, so by these terms, you expect me to be celibate for eight months?"

"Is that going to be a problem?" I asked. My words came out harsher than I had intended, and I cringed at the way I sounded like some jealous hag already.

"I'd just like to be clear on the terms," he said, his lips twitched in amusement.

"In other circumstances, it wouldn't be a problem if you were very discreet, but since this is a very sensitive matter, we thought it best not to give the press any more fodder for gossip," Carl interjected.

"I understand," Rob said.

I shook my head silently, wondering if I'd somehow ended up on the
Twilight Zone
. When we originally came up with the contract, it was easier to forget that we'd be dealing with another human being.

The "fake fiancé" was just a vague idea at the time. Haggling over contract length, and the amount of time we were to be seen out in public together, as well as allowable forms of PDA were just par for the course. Now having Rob here, and hearing him go over what my manager, lawyer, publicist, and I had come up with was a bit jarring and disconcerting.

"Are there any other concerns you have about the terms of the contract, Mr. Benedict?" Carl asked.

"Everything else seems in order, but I'd like to add something. I see there's a requirement for me to attend all awards shows and movie premiers. I'd like to add a meeting with my family as part of the terms," he said. "My parents are throwing a Ruby wedding anniversary party in November, and I'll need your attendance there," he said, looking at me.

"Of course."

"And one more thing," he said.

"Yes?" Carl and I both asked at the same time.

"The compensation clause, you can take that out. I won't need to get paid for this."

I was about to argue, but he cut me off with a wave of the hand. "We're both doing each other a favor and that's that," he said with finality. I knew it was pointless to argue with him since he seemed so adamant about not getting paid. Then again, the money we were offering, though generous by anyone's standard, was probably just a drop in the bucket for him.

"If you say so," I said.

"Good, now that we've got it all agreed, I'll draft up a new contract with the changes and send it to you both for your signature," Carl added. "And I'm sure I don't have to remind you that we have a very strict confidentiality clause."

"I wouldn't expect any less," Rob said as he stood up to shake Carl's hand. Then he turned to me and smiled. "That went easier than I thought," he said.

"I hope everything else goes as smoothly," I said. "I'll have my publicist start leaking stories about us to the press now to set the foundation. We should probably start being seen together in public. How about lunch at The Vine, say next Tuesday?"

"And so it begins," he grinned. "Sounds good to me. I'll pick you up at your place."

With that, he strode to the door and stepped out the office like he didn't have a care in the world. He probably didn't at this point. I just hoped it would remain the same after our relationship went public.

 

***

Rob arrived on time to pick me up for our first official date. I had just put the finishing touches on my outfit when the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, Rob stood there looking dashing as ever in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white polo shirt. I shut the door behind me as I stepped out in the bright courtyard outside of my house. Rob had driven himself in one of those vintage convertibles. I frowned as I looked at the sleek little car.

"Is there a problem?" Rob asked watching me in concern.

"I hope you're planning on putting the top up. I don't want my hair to look like a rat's nest in front of the paps," I said.

"Oh! I didn't even think of that," he said. "No worries, though. Let me just pop the top on."

I stood and waited for him to attach the light canvas cover to the car, trying hard not to notice the ways his biceps flexed, or how I could see the outline of his chest through the thin fabric of his shirt.

"It's all done," he said turning back around and shooting me a devilish grin.

I didn't know how long I'd been staring or if he had caught me, but that twinkle in his eye led me to think I might have been staring longer than I should have. With a tiny shake of the head, I walked toward the passenger side door he was holding open for me and got in. The inside of the car was snug and fit only two. I'd never understood why people would waste money on old cars like this. The dash was full of knobs and dials, and the seats were cramped and uncomfortable. Give me a Beemer or Benz any day, with GPS, air conditioning, and power windows and doors.

Before we pulled up to the restaurant, I checked my reflection in the mirror one more time, reapplying my lipstick and making sure my hair was all in place. I knew what awaited us just up the road, and there was no way I was going to be caught looking anything less than perfect. We arrived at the restaurant and were greeted by a sea of paparazzi.

They swarmed our car as we pulled up to the valet. The car was flashy, and loud, and certainly announced our arrival. Perhaps that's why Rob had gotten it. Normally I'd be running for cover, but today, this was expected. Arnie had placed an anonymous tip letting them know I'd be there. We stepped out amid the flashes of the cameras, and cat calls. Rob and I did our best to look annoyed, and hurried into the restaurant where we were seated immediately.

"That was crazy," he said wiping the sweat off his forehead.

Even though it had only taken mere minutes for us to get out of the car and into the restaurant, it felt like eternity. I was used to the attention, but this was something new for Rob. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling.

"Yeah, but not unexpected," I said. "Hopefully it will be in all the papers and blogs tomorrow. How do I look?"

"Beautiful," he said.

The waitress came and took our orders, lingering a moment longer than necessary. I shot her an irritated glare and she scurried off to the kitchen. I was sure she'd sell her story to the tabloids once we left. Hell, maybe she was already doing that right now.

I scanned around the restaurant and recognized some familiar faces. The Vine was a notorious restaurant for celebrities to see and be seen. The paparazzi were a permanent fixture outside the restaurant doors, which made it the go-to place to show off my new relationship.

I normally avoided the place if I could. Too many wannabes and has-beens frequented it, but I had to suck it up and go along with the plan Charlotte and Arnie had come up with. We needed to blitz the news with my new relationship with Rob. Everyone had to see how I was in a stable, committed relationship, and above petty gossip and rumors.

Since I'd had a bit of a reputation as a wild child, my relationship with Rob would serve to ground me, and show me in a more mature and favorable light. At least that was what Arnie and Charlotte told me would happen. I still had my doubts, but I had no choice other than to go along with them. If there was any chance to help my career, I'd do it without hesitation.

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