CHAPTER 9
KATIE
“I need you to be my girlfriend.”
Wow. This dream seems so real. Nathan is standing at my front door, leaning in that hot way he has, shoulder propped up, ankles crossed, smiling at me and asking me to be his girlfriend.
It’s the kind of dream I used to have back at school, where he’d turn up out of the blue and confess his undying love for me.
It seems I’ve not yet outgrown these girlish fantasies.
“Time to wake up, Katie,” I tell myself, rubbing my eyes and blinking.
That’s not right. He’s still there, smiling even wider at me than before.
“Nathan?”
“In the flesh.”
I shake my head and rub my eyes again. After my dinner with Nathan last night, I’d stayed up into the wee hours of the morning working on a new funding grant.
With the deadline fast approaching, I’d known sleep would evade me until the bulk of it was completed, so I’d settled into bed with my laptop and had worked until my eyes bled.
Seems like I’m paying the price for my work ethic now; my brain is playing funny buggers with me.
“Kitty Kat?”
In my dream, Nathan pushes up to standing and reaches out to smooth my hair back from my face, rubbing a few strands gently between his fingers as he does.
It seems so real.
“Because it is.”
“Pardon?”
He grins, stepping inside and closing the door. “Are you okay?”
The combination of the cold air breezing through the now closed door and his scent, that unmistakable scent, finally cuts through. I’m not dreaming. I’m awake. Standing in my pyjamas with bed hair and morning breath, looking at a very real Nathan standing in front of me.
This is not good.
“Arrggh.” I take off running, closing my bedroom door behind me. If this isn’t a dream, then that man out there has caught me at my absolute worst.
“I’ll get the tea going, shall I?” he yells through the door, like this is all so very normal.
“M-kay,” I mumble back, shoving my legs into a pair of black leggings and pulling on an oversized, chunky knit cardigan.
Once dressed, I peep out of my bedroom, and with the coast clear, I bolt to the bathroom, brushing my hair and my teeth and rubbing the mascara away from under my eyes.
If my mind isn’t playing tricks on me, he somehow came here to ask me to be his girlfriend, but I’m pretty sure after being confronted with the absolute mess I was at the door this morning, whatever that was will by now have passed.
Disappointing. But also, fair.
“Nathan.” I clear my throat to get his attention.
He’s in my kitchen pouring tea into two cups. One for me, the other in what may as well be his cup. He’s also assembled a tower of bagels on a plate, and my stomach groans with appreciation at the sight of it.
“Kitty Kat!” He turns and beams at me, his gaze taking a trip over my face, down to my shoulders, my chest, and then to the tips of my toes.
His eyes are a warm, clear blue as he looks me over, and I feel the heat of it like he’d reached out and touched me.
“Here, sit. Drink your tea and eat your breakfast. We’ve got a lot to discuss. ”
Bamboozled, I let him take the lead, taking a sip from my cup and biting into a bagel. No, scrap that. Biting into the perfect bagel.
“Ohmigosh, this is amazing.”
He leans back with a satisfied smirk on his face. “That’s good to hear. Because they’re bribery bagels.”
I chew, swallow, bite, and chew some more. As curious as I am to hear all about this bribery business, I can’t seem to stop eating. These bagels are magical.
“Um, okay, yum.”
His chuckle is deep and fills my bagel-filled belly with warmth. He both looks and sounds so delighted to be here with me. I can almost forgive him for showing up unannounced. Again.
“Nathan, do you have an aversion to using the telephone?”
His quirks a brow. “Not particularly.”
“Then please explain why you’ve not once, but twice, ambushed me in my flat, unannounced, in the morning? Are you trying to catch me at my worst?”
His eyes take another leisurely trip over me.
“If this is you at your worst…”
I lean forward.
“Yes?”
He shakes his head. “We’ve gone off topic.”
We have? Were we ever on topic?
“I came here this morning bearing bagels because I need to ask you a favour.”
Ah, well, this makes more sense.
“Okay…” I take another bite of bagel and fix him with my best ‘spit it out’ stare.
Nathan shifts in his seat, looking uncomfortable for the first time…ever. “So, you know how we were talking about my brother and my ex?”
“Yes. Both dirty rats.”
His face brightens. “Indeed. Well, it turns out not everyone sees it quite like you do. There’s a lot of chatter out there in the world—and within my mother’s head—that I should move on.
Just get over it. In fact, by not doing this, I’ve been painted as a terrible brother. Or at a minimum, the loser brother.”
Blood rushes to my ears as my temper boils. Who in their right mind would find Nathan’s reaction to this ultimate betrayal anything other than warranted? And why is his mother a person doing the wondering?
“That is so out of order. I’m so sorry this is happening to you.”
He reaches over for my hand, squeezing my fingers in his much bigger ones. “Thank you, Katie. But it actually gets worse.”
“How is that possible?”
He pulls his lower lip in between his teeth, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It gets worse, because what the public doesn’t know—yet—is that my brother and Victoria are engaged.”
“Shut. Up.”
His responding smile is small but bright. “And they’re getting married on New Year's Eve.”
Tears prick at my eyelids. I’m an angry crier, and right now, I’m ready to shed a bucket load of tears on his behalf.
“Gosh, they are the literal worst.”
He nods. “So, you see, I’m in a predicament. Once the press release the engagement story, the world will be back to viewing me as the bitter, scorned brother/ex-boyfriend, and I’m not sure I want to deal with that.”
That makes sense. The whole sordid affair is awful. Add this to the fact that Nathan is clearly not over Victoria, and it’s a recipe for disaster.
“And you shouldn’t have to,” I spit out. “How your brother thinks this is okay is beyond me. And don’t get me started on that ex of yours. She’s worse than a rat. She’s the bacteria that feasts on the fleas that live on rats.”
Restless now, I stand up and shake my fists out, wishing I had something to punch. I’m not normally a violent person, or even a person with big emotions, but seeing Nathan as he is now, vulnerable and in pain, makes me want to go to war for him.
“So, how can I help? You said something about a favour?”
He’s back to squirming in his chair. “Well, you see, now, my sister Rosie. You remember Rosie?”
“Yes, we’re Instagram friends now.”
He grins. “Yes, well, this morning we were talking about all this stuff and she mentioned that if I had a girlfriend, then people would think I’ve moved on, and all the pity and scorn and everything else being launched my way, would go away.
And after I thought about it, I agreed. A girlfriend would help sell my narrative, and I can be left alone. ”
“But you don’t have a girlfriend, do you?” I trail off, comprehension dawning on me. I need you to be my girlfriend. It wasn’t part of my dream.
His smile is pleading now. “I don’t. That’s the problem. I’ve been too busy getting over my last relationship to even think about it. So, Rosie suggested I ask a friend. Or even ask someone to pose as my girlfriend—a fake girlfriend—until this all blows over.”
“Me?” I squeak. He’s asking me to be his—fake—girlfriend?
“Yes, you. You’d be perfect.”
How?
“How?”
He waves his hand around my face as I sit back down in front of him in a hard plonk. “You’re perfect.”
I raise a brow. Perhaps he’s a little drunk?
“I mean,” he hastens to add. “You’re the perfect person to ask.
We’ve just reconnected, so we can sell the story that we’re old friends who developed feelings for each other.
We can spend a few evenings together like we did last night, which I have to say was a lot of fun, and then when it all dies down, we can slip back to being friends. ”
My insides twist at his description of our pretend relationship. Especially the part where we have to pretend to break up.
“I don’t know, Nathan. It seems like an enormous risk. If I’m out with you, I’ll be in the media spotlight. Remember how it was for Cherry? It looked brutal. It would be worse for me.”
He shakes his head, his lips in a firm line.
“No. Absolutely not. In the off-season, there’s a lot less interest in what we’re doing.
The fans don’t care what we’re up to as long as we show up the next season ready to win.
I’ve seen lots of other drivers launch their relationship during this time for this exact reason; the media don’t care as much about harassing us in the downtime. ”
“But won’t that defeat the point? If they’re not focusing on you, then they’re not reporting on your relationship. Fake or not.”
“That just means we control the story. We get a few friendly journalists to write a couple of puff pieces about us, and then we’re golden.
We won’t even post on our socials, just keep it vague enough so that I seem to be loved up, and am no longer the sad, pitiful man who got discarded for his older brother. ”
His voice is strained, and I can sense how much this is all weighing on him. How heartbroken he must be to see the woman he hasn’t moved on from, marrying his brother. He must be desperate to even float the idea to me, so the least I can do is consider it.
“How would this work? Would it only be for a couple of dates?”
He looks to the left. “Yeah, I mean, that should be fine.”
I peer into his lake-blue eyes, searching for the subterfuge, the hidden something he’s not sharing. “I’m not sure, Nathan. It feels like a bad idea.”
Straightening in his chair, he leans over the table into my space. “I get that, and I know I’m asking a lot. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
We sink into silence, and I glance around, searching for the right answer. My eyes trip over my small Christmas tree, standing there in the corner, still not bowing under the weight of all the decorations.
“I mean, I kind of owe you, don’t I?”
He follows my gaze and shakes his head. “No way, Kitty Kat. You don’t owe me anything. If you do this, it’s because you want to help me out. Not because you feel obligated.”
Great. Why does he have to say all the right things?
“Can we try it out and see how it goes?”
He nods, eagerly. “Sure. We can do a trial run, and if it makes you uncomfortable or if you’re at all uneasy, we call it off. Go back to being friends. Real friends.”
I know this should make this better, but my thumpity heart doesn’t love the ‘friends’ label.
“In fact, I have something that may sweeten this deal.”
A ripple of unease surfaces in me at the Cheshire cat grin on his face. “What is it?”
“Tonight, I’m having dinner with Nicky and Cherry. The last one before she moves to Monaco. Why don’t you come along?”
My exhale stays trapped in my lungs. Oh, he’s bringing out the big guns. “Dinner with Nicky Dimitrios and Cherry Brenner? Are you for real?”
His eyes twinkle. “What do you say, Kitty Kat? Want to go out with me tonight and meet some of my friends?”
I really, really do.
“Yes,” I nod.
“As my fake girlfriend?” he clarifies, his voice smooth as velvet.
I swallow a gulp, feeling the same sensation as when I’m falling.
“Yes, Nathan. I’ll go out with you tonight. As your fake girlfriend.”
He beams a big smile and reaches over to shake my hand. A zap of electricity runs up my arm at the contact, and I stare at where our hands remained joined.
Oh, dear me, what have I gotten myself into?