Page 14 of Older Hotter Grumpier
Good girl. His words from earlier echo through me and I press my lips together. I can’t allow myself to put any significance on the fact that I’ve never heard him say that to anyone else. But when he introduced me as his fiancée, his voice was deep and resonant like he meant it. And the protective sweep of his arm around me? The way he ensured I was included in each conversation, and always at his side. Umph. I’m going to be remembering this evening until I’m a hundred years old.
This is a fake date, I remind my perky, optimistic reflection. I am not his real fiancée, I am doing him a favour so he didn’t make me unemployed after I was utterly inappropriate in his office.
Twice.
That second time? Oof. I guess the sun would be hotter than Mr Blackwood watching me touch myself, but not much else. Him touching me, obviously.
Good, now I’m even more flushed. Exactly what I needed.
Fake date, I remind myself, and, swallowing hard, walk back out into the intimidatingly large and glamorous hotel. There are so many well-dressed people, and it’s crowded, all gold doors and glass everything and high ceilings. I try to return to the room with the artworks, but as I take wrong turn after wrong turn, panic sets into my tummy. I’m so out of my element here. My mother would say I have ambitions above my station in life, and I guess she’s right.
I have to get back to Mr Blackwood.
To my boss. To Rafe.
Then, finally, I glimpse a painting and make for it.
I hesitate in the doorway. I half expected Mr Blackwood to be waiting nearby, and my heart sinks a little that he isn’t. Look, it’s logical. He’s an important person, he can’t be hanging around for his secretary, even if I am supposed to be his fiancée tonight.
Then I see him, then blink and do a double take.
Rafe was in a perfectly tailored dinner jacket earlier, complete with bowtie and fine white shirt. And now, he’s wearing a different suit. Less formal. His hair is mussed, there’s more stubble on his jawline, and while the black-tie attire is similar, it fits him differently.
I think it’s him, but Rafe smiles at me when our eyes meet, which is weird enough, but everything in me is screaming that something is wrong. I’m so disorientated from getting lost, I think I’m dizzy. But then, I’m sure I don’t recognise the pictures around me from earlier.
Gah, I’m an idiot. Maybe I drank more champagne than I thought? I’m imagining things.
He looks me up and down as I approach.
“Hey. Sorry, Mr Blackwood. I lost you. I thought you were wearing…” I stop myself before I say something intolerably stupid. “Not doing great today at knowing where you are.” I give a little fake laugh.
“This might be different attire to what you were expecting from me,” he replies smoothly. “Don’t worry.”
“Was everything okay while I was gone?” I’m suddenly aware that I have one job this evening: to be his fake date in order to run interference with anyone who wants to get a bit of him. And while I’m now uncomfortable with his presence, I still want my job. Both the fake one and the day job.
“Nothing was okay until you arrived,” he says. “I’m very glad you’re here. I’d like us to know each other.”
But unlike how Rafe this evening has been constantly touching me, now he keeps his distance.
Whoever this is, it’s not Rafe. There are three things that make me certain. My boss doesn’t feel like that, and would never say it. Then there’s the darkness in this man’s eyes, a cold that I’ve never seen in Rafe’s. But moreover, I’m not attracted to him.
Where Rafe sets me aflame with a single look, this man leaves me as unaffected as a fish in a flood. It’s as though all the magic of him has seeped out.
“No.” Am I losing my mind? But his hair is slightly different too, more silver than chestnut brown. I’ve watched my boss for months now. Studied him. I’m a connoisseur of Mr Blackwood, and this isn’t him. “You’re not Rafe.”
The man grins, wide and amused. “You’re smart. See why my brother likes you. Not many people see the differences between us. I’m Severino. The good-looking and charismatic Blackwood triplet.”
“Oh!” Relief and understanding cascades over me, along with spikes of shock. He has two identical brothers. He’s never told me, but then, why would he? But at least that means I’m not hallucinating. “I’m Ella Button. Rafe’s…” I was going to say assistant, but should I say date? Claiming I’m his fiancée to his brother seems presumptuous.One nightfiancée.
My heart squeezes unhappily. This will all be over much too soon.
Severino doesn’t seem bothered by my odd response, chuckling darkly, and shoving both hands in his pockets. “Rafe really didn’t tell you about me or our other brother, Vito. Interesting. I wonder what else he hasn’t told you.”
I glance around in a panic, looking for Rafe. “I should get back…”
“Has he told you about why he’s here?”
Despite the tone that tells me he’s about to reveal something Rafe wouldn’t want, I stop, unable to help myself. More information about my boss is catnip. I’m more likely to roll in whatever his brother has to say like a furry addict than say no.
