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I need to do something besides lay in bed all day.
While Ben met with his father, I’d gotten some much-needed rest. The time difference is kicking my butt, and I’m sore from the sex last night. I’d had a battery-operated boyfriend for the last few months and I wasn’t used to this much action. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an excellent problem to have.
Not to mention the stress of the situation. I was so nervous in the dress shop yesterday, I thought I was going to be sick. Thankfully, Gran hadn’t noticed, or she was simply too excited about the wedding to care about anything else. Ben had definitely made her happy. At least for now.
Because my conscience was getting the better of me, I also tidied up the hotel room. The hotel had a maid staff, but I didn’t want them to think we are slobs. The place is a bit of a wreck, unmade bed, clothing all over the floor, my makeup was spread all over the bathroom countertop. Besides, I’m used to doing things for myself and as soon as I get back home, no one will be waiting on me, hand and foot.
After I finished, I pulled out my laptop and checked my email, keeping busy. Unfortunately, I kept thinking about Ben. I’d be fine for five or ten minutes, checking out YouTube, or Facebook, and then he’d pop into my head again.
If I’m not really careful, I could actually fall for him, and then I’d be in big trouble. This was all an act and I need to remember that, or I’m going to get hurt. To distract myself, I took a long hot shower, pulled on a pair of jeans and t-shirt, along with sneakers. It centered me to be in average, everyday clothes. I felt more like myself than when I was dressed to the nines, picking out fancy clothes in an exclusive store.
Around noon, Ben walks in the door.
“Hey there.” Ben grins and my insides do a somersault.
“Hi.” I’m at a loss for words.
Frankly, I don’t know how to act when the two of us are alone and not having sex. We aren’t a couple, but we kiss and hold hands and act like lovebirds when people are watching. Should I kiss him in greeting? Offer him a friendly hug? A handshake?
I don’t think Ben does either. He lurches forward as if to embrace me and then backs up. So, the two of us are standing there, a couple feet apart, staring at one another, like two idiots. There’s a long, awkward silence between us. Evidently, he doesn’t know what do either. It makes me feel a better.
“How did the thing with your dad go?”
Ben started to speak and then shakes his head. Suddenly, my mouth went dry. Oh no. This can’t be good.
“Um, well, we should discuss it.”
“Uh oh.”
He holds up two hands. “I don’t want you to panic. We’ll fix it.”
“There’s something to fix?” First, his grandmother’s party, and then his brother’s accusations. And now, his father had gotten in on the action. What’s next? I’m afraid to find out.
Ben lays a hand on his flat stomach. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. We’ll talk about it over lunch.”
“Somehow, I lost my appetite.” My stomach had started churning.
“You’ll get it back, once we get to the restaurant.”
I wave a hand down the length of my body. “I'm not really dressed for somewhere fancy.” Ben likes the finer things in life.
“That's okay. We're going to a very informal place and I think you're going to love it. Besides, I'm wearing a polo and jeans.”
We walk down the hallway together and his guards automatically flank us. Then hits the elevator button and hold on to one of the sliding doors while I enter. It's a gentlemanly gesture that I appreciate. One of the guards gets in with us, and the rest waits for the next elevator car. The bulky guy is standing in front of us, and we're behind him.
Ben silently offers me his hand. I stare at his fingers for a moment. This isn't for show. It's just the two of us, and we're not playing pretend. He doesn't have to hold my hand until we hit the lobby to sell this. His guards have an ironclad NDA, so it's not like they're going to talk. Just as he's about to withdraw, I take his hand and he squeezes it. Instantly, I feel better.
Why does he have that effect on me? This whole situation is nuts, and yet I'm calm when I'm with Ben. As if I somehow know he'd never let anything terrible happen to me. He takes me to an outdoor seafood bar and grill, on the lakefront. It has a beachy feel.
We take a table in the far corner, with his back to the wall, overlooking the water. Waves gently lap at the pier we are seated on and I close my eyes, basking in the sunshine as I sip a mojito.
“So, you like it?” Ben asks, and then takes a sip of his scotch and soda.
I beam at him. “Love it. Excellent choice.”
Ben winks. “Thought you might.” So, he’s chosen this place for me? How thoughtful.
The waiter comes over just then and Ben orders another round of drinks, along with a crab cake appetizer, and bowls of clam chowder.
I almost hate to ask, but I have to. We might as well get this over with, so I can deal with the consequences.
“So, what’s going on?”
“Finish the rest of your drink.”
I gulp. “That bad, huh?”
Then tilts his head to one side, considering my words. “No, just inconvenient.”
I take a couple of generous sips. “You always break bad news with alcohol, huh?”
“It helps.”
I drain the rest of the glass. “Okay, let me have it.”
“He wants to announce our engagement on a morning show.”
I nearly choke. “Our fake engagement?”
“Father doesn’t know it’s fake.” Ben leans forward and glanced around us. “And please keep your voice down, we’re in public.”
Hey! Wait a second. “Is that why you wanted to tell me this in a restaurant?” Evidently, Bennett been counting on me not making a scene.
“No.”
“Yeah, I’m not buying that answer.”
He shrugs, which could mean anything. Ugh. I’m so frustrated, I feel like picking up the sugar packets on the table and hitting him in the nose with them, one by one.
“And by morning show, you mean a nationally televised news program?” I need to make sure I heard him right, in case I’m having a stroke or something.
“Yes.” How could Ben be so casual about this? He wants to lie to the entire country, like it’s no big deal.
“And what did you say?”
“I told him we would do it.”
My jaw hangs open. “Are you out of your mind?” I can’t believe he did this to us. To me.
Ben actually considers this for a second. “Maybe.”
“And why in the hell would we do that?”
“Look, it won’t be a problem.” Engagements end all the time.”
I rub one of my temples, and I can feel the vein bulging, throbbing.
“I don't think this is a good idea. Telling your grandmother a tall tale is one thing, but talking to reporters...? This is bound to blow up in both our faces.”
“Not necessarily. We’ve gotten away with it so far.”
“So, you’re going to keep pressing your luck?” He’s like a guy in a casino, who bets all his chips on a shitty hand of cards and loses everything.
“I know you’re nervous, but we’ve got this. Don’t worry.” Ben reaches from my hand, but I pull it back as if I’ve been burned.
Just then, the waiter reappears with refills and our food.
My appetite is long gone, so I push mine away, but grab the mojito. I nearly down the whole thing in one gulp. This whole thing had gotten way out of hand. It has always been a little bit nuts, but we’re getting deeper and deeper into this lie.
Suddenly, a terrible thought occurs to me.
We’ve just lied to the ruling monarch. Okay, technically Ben did, not me, but I’m in this, too. Isn’t that, I don’t know, defrauding the government? I didn’t have a clue what Muravia’s laws are, but deceiving the king had to be punishable by serious jail time.
Not to mention the publicity. I’d watched poor Meghan Markle be chased down by reporters and photographers. There is no way I could handle the scrutiny. I like being anonymous, going about my daily life, without guards and reporters following me around. I can’t live like that.
“Isabelle? You’ve gone white as a sheet. What are you thinking about?”
“I don’t know, a lot of things. Your dad is in charge of this country, right?”
He nods.
“And we’re lying to him.”
Understanding dawns. “Don’t worry. We’re not in any legal trouble.”
I’m doubtful.
“I promise. I’d never get you in trouble with the authorities. I swear.”
I take a deep breath. “Okay, I believe you. But if we do this interview, it’s all out in the open and I lose my anonymity. Doesn’t this mean the paparazzi would follow me?” Oh, hell no. I didn’t sign up for that. It meant my private life would be over forever.
“Only in Muravia. And chances are, it probably won’t be pick up by the international media. Yet.”
“Probably? That’s comforting.”
“Look, I know this is an imposition.” Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. “And I’m willing to pay more, if you need additional-”
“This isn’t about money.” I whisper furiously. I glance around the restaurant, but no one is paying any attention to us. “And I’m insulted you think it is.”
And this isn’t about money. Not anymore. I like Ben, and maybe that’s the real problem. It would be different if this whole engagement thing was real, but it isn’t. I hate playacting, pretending to be in love with Ben. It’s beginning to hurt a little.
“Isabelle, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”
“Look, I need a bit of break.” Instinctively, I stand up. I need to put some distance between us, even if it’s just physical. Now.
“Where are you going?” Ben clutches my arm, but I pull it free.
“Calm down, I’m just going to the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.” I stalk off, without a backward glance.
I walk into the bathroom, to find a waitress washing her hands at the sinks.
She stares at me, her brow furrowing. “Is everything alright, ma’am?
“I’m fine.” Although, I certainly don’t feel like I am. The room is spinning around me and I’m a little dizzy.
Nodding, she leaves and I’m relieved to be alone. I cup my hands under the faucet and splash some water on my face. It makes my makeup run, but I don’t care. And then I wet a paper towel with cold water and lay it on the back of my neck.
There’s a knock on the outer door.
“I’m fine!” I didn’t want to deal with anyone right now.
“Isabelle?”
“Yeah, I’m in here.”
“Can we talk?”
I want to be childish, and tell him “no”, but instead, I open the door to find Ben waiting for me.
“Once again, I’m sorry.” He lifts his shoulders.
I sigh.
“Isabelle, will you please forgive me? I could’ve handled that much better.” Ben opens his arms to me and they look so inviting. I crave his touch.
Damn. I sag against him, and he wraps himself around me. Somehow, he makes me feel warm and safe, like I have nothing to worry about. It is probably a false sense of security, but I can’t help myself.
“Will you come back to table and have lunch with me? Or would you rather go?”
“Our food is probably cold.”
“Then we’ll have them warm it up, or we can take it to go, and eat it later, in bed.” Ben kisses the top of my head. “What do you want to do?”
Just then, my stomach growls. “I’m hungry.”
“Then let’s eat.” Ben laces his fingers through mine and walks me back over to the table. Once we are seated, he cocks his head to one side. “So, you and I...we’re okay again, right?”
I nod.
Ben sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad.”
I raise a brow at him.
“Sorry. I’ve never been in a relationship before and I’m not used to handling arguments.”
Woah. He used the “R” word. “Well, you did just fine, but this isn’t a relationship.” I have to practically force the words out.
After a long moment, Ben nods.. “Not in the traditional sense, but you and I have...something. Whatever happens, I don’t want you to hate me. I couldn’t stand to lose our...” Ben trailed off. “Friendship? No, that doesn’t seem to cover it.”
“I don’t know what to call it.”
“Maybe we shouldn't try to define this. We’re unique.”
“I’ll say, and you won’t lose me.” At least I don’t want it to end like that. He might have only been in my life the past few days, but the thought of never seeing him again makes me anxious. “I’m sure we’ll keep in touch.”
“I’m glad. I would...miss you if you were gone.”
Hmm. I got the sense it was a huge admission for Ben.
“And, let me just say for the record, I didn’t mean to upset you by bringing up the money.”
“I know and I forgive you.”
“Thank you. So, I hate to bring this up again, but I have to let my father know. Will you do the interview?”
“You really don’t think the international press will pick it up?” Who cares if everyone knew me in Muravia. I didn’t live here, so it didn’t matter one way or the other. But I couldn’t deal with the consequences at home.
“Doubt it. We’re not as famous as the Brits.”
“I’ve never done an interview before.” I shudder. “Even giving a speech in class makes me nervous.
“Don’t worry. The publicity staff will walk us through everything.”
“Great. I could use the help. And it’s national television?”
“Yes, but Muravia’s only the size of Kentucky, so it’s not as many people as the United States.”
“Fantastic. So, it’s only a million or so people. Neat.”
“That didn’t help, huh?”
“Not so much.”
Just then, the waiter appears again and Ben asks him to warm up our food, when he disappears with the tray, Ben smiles at me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be right there with you and I’ll jump in whenever I need to.”