The moment I climb on the bike behind Diego, I know I’ve made a mistake. This black monster is way too wobbly and unstable for my tastes.
At first, I try to keep my palms respectfully flat against Diego’s sides while he backs the bike up. But the second he twists the accelerator, I wrap my arms around his waist as tightly as I can, my gloved fingers gripping his leather jacket for dear life. Especially when the bike stumbles off the curb with a roar of the engine, tires skidding on the road. The rumble is deafening; it vibrates up my legs to reach deep into my guts. I close my eyes, glue my head—helmet and all—to his broad back, and hope this ride will really only take ten minutes.
Diego works the clutches, making the bike gather speed, and I can’t help but grip tighter as a little scream escapes my lips. Diego’s chest starts to shake under my arms, and I have a strong suspicion he’s laughing at me and my fear.
I couldn’t care less. Right now, I’m focused on surviving the ride and getting off this death trap as soon as possible. Honestly, I don’t understand how other women can find this sexy. Okay, I get the intimacy—physical, for how close the bodies touch, and emotional, for the trust one has to put in the driver to give away all control. And some women might like not being in control, or find the drop in their stomach at every acceleration thrilling, but I’m not one of them.
For the whole journey, I’m so pumped up with adrenaline I don’t notice the chill. I’m sure riding a bike in December should feel colder than this, but right now my universe is made only of Diego’s body and how hard I can cling to him. My chest is pressed so close to his back we might’ve been fused.
Every turn, incline, and acceleration makes my heart pound faster. If this is what flying feels like, I’m glad humans were born without wings.
When we finally stop, I still hold onto him and keep my eyelids closed. It could be only a traffic light, and if I open my eyes now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle the rest of the ride.
“Boss.” Diego tries to turn back to look at me, but I’m holding on too tight. “We’re here.”
I’m still too scared to move.
“Nikki?” Diego calls again. “You can let go now.”
Slowly, I release my koala grip on him and get off. I unhook my helmet and hand it to him, saying, “Let’s never do this again.”
“Don’t say never, boss.” Diego grins at me from underneath the helmet. I can tell he’s smiling from the crinkles around his eyes. “It might grow on you…”
And with that he winks at me, pushes down on a pedal to revive the engine, opens the clutches, and disappears among the Manhattan traffic, leaving me standing on the curb in front of my building with legs still shaky from the sheer effort of pressing my thighs against his.
***
“I should buy you something for the bike,” I say.
It’s Sunday morning, and Diego and I are braving the holiday crowds to complete our Christmas shopping. I’ve already settled Julia with the fanciest wedding planner I could find in the mall’s bookstore, Mom with a new recipe book, and Dad with the latest Ken Follett bestseller. Not the most original or thought-out presents, I’m aware, but I despise gift shopping.
I may or may not have also bought a novel for Paul a while ago. At the time, I wasn’t even sure if I’d ever give it to him. But if he’s going to spend the holidays at our house… I sort of have to. And, I mean, it’s not like a thriller book—hardcover, special edition, signed by his favorite author—will send the message, “I’m in love with you. Dump my sister and marry me instead.” Right?
“You need any new accessories?” I continue. “Gloves?” I couldn’t help but notice his are a little worn out.
“Biker gear is expensive.” Diego shrugs. “Why not get me a book like everybody else?”
“No, you’re my boyfriend. I need to buy you something different, something special. You know a good biker gear shop?”
“There’s one closer to your apartment; we can stop there on the way home.”
“All right.”
“We can go after buying my present for you. Have you decided what I’m getting you yet?”
I chew my lower lip. “I don’t know.”
Diego raises his brows. “A woman who can’t choose her present. Impossible!”
“The best thing would be to get me a book. Or a cat. But I can’t do the cat until Blair moves out, and it needs to be something showier than a book to impress my family.”
“Remember, I’m a struggling artist.” Diego grins.
“That’s why we have to find a nice, thoughtful, but inexpensive gift.” I stare at the shopping windows surrounding us, kind of lost. “See the problem now?”
Just as the words leave my lips, we pass in front of a jewelry shop, and I’m captivated by a glass cube showcasing three rings, identical but for the color: one in silver, one in gold, and the last one in rose gold. The design is simple: plain gold bands, but… with ears!
“See something you like?” Diego asks.
I smile, pushing the shop’s door open. “How about a cat ring?”
A girl in a bright-red suit hurries up to us, making me wonder if she’s wearing a special holiday suit or if they go ’round all year long wearing that almost blinding shade of red.
“Hello, how may I help you today?” She has a chirpy, honey-like voice, which fits the festive-bonanza décor of the shop perfectly.
“We’re here to buy a ring,” I say.
“A ring, how wonderful.” She twinkles at me. “Christmas present?” Her big, it’s-that-time-of-the-year, sparkly eyes set on Diego next.
Err… She thinks we’re a real couple Christmas shopping. Well, why wouldn’t she?
I glance at Diego for help—but he’s staring around the shop, completely unaware. And there’s no way I’m launching into the whole story of how Diego is only a for-hire boyfriend in front of a bunch of strangers—there are three shop assistants in total, all in eye-sore red.
“Yeah.” I smile awkwardly. “It’s a gift, I mean, sort of—”
“That’s wonderful! I’m Evelyn, and I’ll be happy to assist you today,” Evelyn chirps. “Did you already have something specific in mind?”
“Yes,” I say. “The cat rings by the windows.”
“Oh.” Another one of the girls in red sighs. “They’re so cute, aren’t they?”
“Goodness.” Evelyn takes my arm, steering me toward the showcase window, and leans in, lowering her voice to speak in a girl-to-girl tone. “The girls and I have a little contest every holiday season to find the cutest couple, and you’ve just knocked all competition out of the park! He’s quite the catch. Lucky you!”
I should be proud of the admiration Diego is inspiring. After all, I’ve hired him to make sure my whole family shuts the hell up about my singlehood for one Christmas. But this is actually painful. What do I say?
“Err, thank you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Evelyn says charmingly as she unhooks a bunch of keys from her neck and uses a tiny silver one to open the back of the glass cube displaying the cat rings.
She retrieves the dark-blue velvet tray holding the rings and sets it on a nearby glass cabinet. “These are our cat rings. They come in different materials, and are at different price points…”
Diego finally hovers next to me, listening in on Evelyn’s explanation.
“…These ones here are all made of 10-carat gold: white, regular, and rose. And they cost $99.99.” She opens a white drawer under the glass cabinet and takes out two small, blue velvet boxes, which contain two silvery rings. “These are sterling silver, our cheapest option at $29.99, and platinum, our most expensive at $499.99.”
“Better get the cheapest one,” Diego chimes in. “Can’t really tell the difference with the other ones.”
Evelyn’s next comment is cut off in a sort of gasp. “The materials may seem all the same right now, but the durability of platinum over time is superior by far. It’s such a precious, timeless metal that will last a lifetime.”
“Guess they can all make it to Christmas, though.” Diego shrugs at her, and then, turning to me, he adds, “You can always tell your family it’s platinum.”
Gosh, he has no clue.
Evelyn’s jaw has dropped to the floor by now, and I don’t have the heart to look up at the other girls. I’m sure I’d find equally crestfallen faces. There’s nothing I can say.
“Sterling silver it is,” I offer lamely. “Can I try it on for sizes? I should be a six.”
For a moment, Evelyn seems unable to speak. “A size six! Right,” she manages at last, sounding strangled. “In sterling silver, lovely. So pretty.”
She collects the right size and offers me the ring.
I slip it on my finger and… “It’s a perfect fit.”
“It is!” Evelyn is obviously forcing herself to nod animatedly. “So nice!” She exchanges looks with the other red girls, who all hastily chime in.
“Adorable!”
“Lovely choice!”
Their bright smiles so don’t reach their eyes. One girl is actually blushing in mortification for me. I want to disappear.
“Would you like this gift wrapped?” Evelyn asks as she moves behind the register.
“Yes, please,” I say.
“Maggie, can you take care of the wrapping?” she asks.
One of the girls shuffles close by and grabs the box, careful to avoid looking me in the eye.
“With all our rings we also offer a care plan,” Evelyn says. “For only ten dollars you get three cleanings and one re-sizing should you ever need it.”
“A care plan on a thirty dollar ring?” Diego lets out an incredulous laugh. “That’s such a rip-off.”
“Just the ring,” I hasten to say, before the situation gets any more awkward.
“Great.” Evelyn taps the register keys, unfazed, almost anesthetized by Diego’s lack of romanticism. “Would you be paying cash or credit, sir?” she asks Diego pointedly, her bright smile frozen solid.
Diego raises an eyebrow at me.
“Credit,” I mutter, lowering my gaze to pull my credit card out of my wallet.
“So… you’ll be paying for the ring, madam.” She can barely gather control of herself. “Wonderful! That’s… wonderful. No problem at all.” Evelyn is breathing harder and harder. “Absolutely fine.” She processes the payment and hands me the receipt to sign, still trying to keep the smile on. It’s obviously taking up all her energy.
The other girl comes back with my package, her expression now openly aghast and hands it to me with an almost apologetic nod of support.
I’m under a hot shower of mortification. I nearly melt with embarrassment.
Diego, of course, has noticed nothing.
“We wish you both very happy holidays.” Evelyn makes a supreme effort to stay pleasant as she ushers us to the door. But just as Diego walks out, she holds me back, pulling me by the elbow. “I know this is none of my business, hon,” she whispers urgently in my ear. “But looks aren’t everything, trust me.”
As I finally exit the shop, Diego is waiting for me in the least over-packed corner of the hall, looking impatient.
“What was that about?” he asks. “Everything okay?”
“Yes! Super!”
I’m still flushed, and I just want to get out of this damned mall. A quick glance back toward the shop reveals Evelyn and the other girls talking animatedly and gesticulating out the window toward Diego with outraged looks on their faces.
“What’s up?” Diego frowns. “That shop assistant seemed a little weird—”
“She was,” I confirm, rolling my eyes.
Can he really be this clueless? Yes, he’s a man. So I spell it out for him. “She thought you were my boyfriend making me buy my own Christmas present.”
Light slowly dawns on Diego’s face, and he bursts into laughter.
“So that’s why they were all giving me the stink eye.”
“Sorry, they all assumed you were a cheap bastard. I feel horrible.”
Diego looks lost again. “Why? I don’t care what three shop assistants think of me.”
“Not even a bit?”
“Nope.”
His face is relaxed, calm. He really doesn’t care. How can he not care what other people think?
Well, that’s probably why I’m the one hiring a fake boyfriend, and he’s not.