Chapter 6 – Waverly
WAVERLY
All day I’ve been a bundle of nerves. I told Tristan yes, but with one caveat.
I didn’t want double. Only what I owed. Reluctantly, he agreed, but I could tell he wasn’t happy about it.
On top of that, I had no idea how to pack for this trip.
What does one wear when they’re meeting their fake boyfriend’s family?
Not to mention, his family are billionaires, and old billionaires at that.
They’re very proper and traditional and need him to get married for some aristocratic reason I don’t understand but makes total sense in their world.
I told Tristan I was in when I brought him his coffee Thursday morning.
My moment with Braxton in the kitchen almost made me second-guess myself, though.
The man had my pulse racing and nipples hard and my breath panting, and all he was doing was touching my face.
Forget working for him, how am I supposed to be in Paris with him if I turn into a little office slut for him from a concerned touch?
Tristan was all business when I told him yes.
He simply gave me a nod and told me a car would pick me up Saturday evening to take me to the airport.
That was it. Good thing I have a passport I got in college.
I had plans to go to Cancun with friends for spring break senior year, and then I discovered what was going on with Nana, and that was that.
Then there’s the not-so-small fact that I’ve never been on an airplane before.
I haven’t gotten much of a chance to talk to Tristan or even Braxton about it either.
We’ve been working non-stop trying to get this acquisition where it needs to be before the office closes for the holiday.
Jennie invited me home with her for Christmas, but I told her that I couldn’t because Tristan was paying me extra to work over the holiday.
It wasn’t a full lie, but it didn’t sit well with me either.
This whole thing has had me in knots, and by the time I get to the airport and through security—I forgot I still have my vibrator in my purse and my anti-asshole spray that thankfully wasn’t confiscated because it’s under three ounces—after being yelled at by everyone because I didn’t know about all of the security protocols or that I had to remove every electronic device I own and put it in a bin and answer random questions, all I want to do is go back home and crawl under the covers for a week.
The massive press of bodies, all the kids crying, and the parents looking like they’re about to make a run for it and jump on a flight to the Bahamas instead of Cincinnati or wherever they’re going underscored by Michael Bublé telling everyone to have a Holly Jolly Christmas despite their misery, isn’t helping to settle me down.
If anything, it’s throwing my nerves into hyperdrive panic mode because this is the start of what will easily be a week of hell. A week of hell with my bosses. And first I have to get on an airplane, and I’ve never been afraid to fly, but now that I’m actually about to get on a plane, I think I am.
I freeze in the middle of the walkway, the gate just up ahead, and I can’t do it. How can I pretend to be Tristan’s girlfriend? That’s insanity! It’ll never work.
I turn and start for the exit when a hand grabs my arm and twirls me in place.
“You’re late.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not late.” I tap my watch.
“We board in fifteen minutes. It’s not my fault security was like the seventh ring of hell.
Who knew you had to take your shoes off and empty all electronics from your bags?
I also had to spill out my water bottle.
What sense does that make? And explain to me why I can’t have anything in my pockets?
And I forgot to remove the vibrator, and I swear the guy scanning it was laughing at me. ”
“Everyone who’s flown for the last twenty-something years knows all of this.”
I give Tristan a look that indicates that I’m not one of those people, and he sighs. “You were about to bolt, weren’t you?”
I bite my lip and look down. “Can you blame me? There is no way this will work.”
“If you’re going to come with me and pretend to be my girlfriend, you’re going to have to start looking at me. Maybe even smile or pretend not to hate me as much as you do.”
I swallow and force my gaze up to his, taking in the different shades of blue in his eyes. “Who said I was coming with you?”
He smirks tauntingly, his head dipping ever so slightly. “Are you saying no? You’re at the airport.”
“Relax,” Braxton says, wrapping an arm around me, and that is not helping me relax. If anything, it’s making my heart beat faster. “It’ll work, Waverly. His mom knows all about you.”
My eyes shoot open wide at Tristan. “You told her about our arrangement?!”
Now it’s Tristan’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Why would I have told her about that? She’s one of the reasons we’re doing this.
” He sighs in frustration. “Evidently, I’ve mentioned you to her a few times over the years because when I gave her your name, she was more than a little delighted it was you.
Incidentally, I told her we’ve been seeing each other casually for a little over four months, with things turning more serious this last month. ”
“Oh, Jesus. I can’t do this.” I break out of Braxton’s hold and start to pace, but with how crowded it is, there isn’t much room for me to move. “Four months?! And she’s delighted it’s me?!”
Braxton and Tristan exchange looks, and I’m too worked up to know what they mean. Typically I can guess. I’ve worked with them enough to know their nonverbal language with each other.
“Yep, so you better start smiling and being that doting girlfriend I was promised.”
“Waverly, it’s really going to be fine.” Braxton grabs my shoulders again and stops my pacing.
“They’re not as scary as you’re making them out to be.
They took me in when I had no one, and here I am, coming to what I now consider my second home for the holidays.
His mother is great. His father and grandmother can be a little intense, but between Tris and me, we’ll run interference as much as we can. They’ll love you.”
I snort derisively. “Ha! Okay. If you say so. Let’s go. Don’t want to miss our flight.” I cackle at that. Why does that seem so funny?
Tristan takes me by the arm and studies me. “Have you eaten today?”
I scrunch my brows. “You mean like food?”
He’s not amused with me.
“No. I couldn’t. I was too nervous, you know.
First-time flyer and fake dating my grumpy boss and all that.
Though in retrospect, I probably should have.
The research I did said many flights don’t offer food, or if they do, it’s very expensive including water.
How can they do that? Water is a basic human right.
And what’s with all these people? Is this the one day everyone picked to fly? ”
He doesn’t release my arm, and neither does Braxton.
They’re both holding onto me as if they’re afraid I’ll slip through their fingers and disappear.
I’m practically dragged to the gate, but it affords me a minute to take them in.
They’re dressed nearly identically. Both are wearing jeans and button-down shirts, though Tristan’s is black and Braxton’s is blue with stripes.
They’re no doubt expensive and likely designer, but the way they fit them, molding to every muscle group known to man, is something else.
I’ve never seen either dressed this casually.
Braxton’s hair is its usual delicious chaos of sandy mess, and Tristan’s isn’t its usual slicked-back perfection. The longer strands on top flop over his forehead and curl a little on the ends, giving him an almost boyish look.
It’s infuriating how beautiful these men are, and what Jennie said to me in the kitchen on Monday hits me dead center. Which incidentally is exactly where I am. Stuck between these two tall, strong, sexy-as-all-fuck men.
“You have dimples,” I tell Braxton, touching them. “Two, one in each cheek. Did you know that?”
He gives me a megawatt smile as if to show them off. “I did. Feel free to touch them anytime.”
“And you,” I turn to Tristan. “You have one too, but it’s in your chin and only one. Did I just say ‘one’ twice?”
“Huh?” His head swivels in my direction, and his eyes scan around my face.
“Dimples.” I smile as if to show him though I don’t have any.
“Braxton has two when he smiles, but you only have one in your chin. They’re all pretty sexy, though.
What other tricks do you men have that I don’t know about?
” The room starts to spin a bit. “Do they have the heat blasting? Why is it so hot here?” I fan my face as we approach our gate, my skin hot and tingly.
“Maybe I’m wearing too many layers? My weather app said it was five degrees in Paris, so I layered up, but now I realize that was more than likely in Celsius, right?
Duh. That was pretty dumb of me. Is it colder there than here? ”
“Are you having a panic attack on us?” Braxton asks, holding me closer and pressing two fingers into my wrist.
I glance up at him, at his soft brown eyes that are oddly filled with worry.
“I doubt it. I’m not particularly known for them.
I’m serious. Always so serious, and I can get through anything.
So there’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to get through this, right?
Though this one time when I was a little girl, maybe six or seven or so, I did pass out, but that was because Emory dared me to hold my breath for a minute. ”
Tristan shifts until he’s right in front of me, moving my face over until our eyes meet. “Are you breathing?”
“I think so because I can smell your cologne. It’s one of the few things I like about you. You always smell so good.” My breathing picks up as if to prove my point, and my nipples spring to attention. Stupid nipples. Stop it!