Chapter 9
Elena
Today couldn’t be any worse than it already is. First I am on the second day of my period and the shedding of my uterus feels like a tornado is happening in my stomach and I want to just lay down in bed all day and do nothing. I had the luck yesterday with Gabriel forcing me to stay home after the almost faint episode because I didn’t drink or eat enough. I seem to lose my appetite during my period.
I think that was one of the signs of mother nature arriving. And even if Reneè keeps telling me to take a painkiller, I won’t. I love testing myself on how strong my pain tolerance is and so far it’s bad.
On top of that I feel like I am pregnant in my first trimester and I want to just throw up non-existent food in my stomach. Nothing is enjoyable and I almost bailed on getting ready today but it would look weird if I didn’t, so I just went with it and did. Better die from period pain than a bad hair day. I can’t even imagine a bad hair day.
Sounds horrible.
I might look fresh and happy when in reality, I am dying on the inside. And worst of all, I am at work, trying not to bleed through my trousers and run at least ten times to the bathroom like a pregnant lady with a sensitive bladder to check I didn't bleed through because my brain did not work this morning and I am wearing white trousers. WHITE. Why did no one stop me?
“Sorry for interrupting , but I-” Gabriel’s ignorant brother walks into the office with a file in his hands and his face brightens up with a smirk as he sees me at my desk. “Well, well well. Who do we have back at the office.”
“Charles, I have no time for your jokes, you intolerant butthead.”
The Harvey brothers seem to be the only ones who annoy me enough to make me curse.
“Woah pump the hate break, miss fashion. I’m just here to lighten the mood but you are destroying it with your grumpiness. No wonder you are my brother's perfect match.”
I glare at him as soon as those words leave his lips. “Excuse you?”
“Yeah I mean have you seen you two?” He walks to me, throws the file on the desk, and sits down on the chair opposite of me with his hands on the armrests with the smirk still on him. “Flirting all the time like you have been married for the last two years and you have been here for only what? A week?” My blood boils harder in my body and I clutch my hand against my stomach as a pain wave hits my uterus like a tsunami.
It has actually been two weeks if we don’t count the nights in Monaco since we met.
I may go crazy when I see him and yes, the smell of him is great. A strong sandalwood smell with a hint of lemon. Is it weird how much I have analysed his scent?
“I see a spark between you two.”
“Yeah the sparks of hell.” I shoot at him without hesitation, but that only makes him smile harder.
“A little bit over dramatic. My brother isn’t that bad. Oh my god I can’t believe I just said that.” He shocks himself with his own words with eyes wide open and I laugh at his stupidity.
“Me neither.” I cock my head, surprised at his words.
No wonder Reneè wants to tear that smile off him, the Harvey smiles are addictive.
Nope not going there, Lena.
The door bursts open and Gabriel walks in with a stressful expression written all over him as if he just murdered someone and the said dead body laying outside the door.
Whatever trouble he has gotten himself into, I am not his therapist to talk about it. I am my own therapist every day of every month on top of already having a therapist.
“I’m calling in my favor.” He tells me in a heartbeat, completely ignoring Charles’ presence in the room.
I glare at him. “What favor?”
“The night we met, you told me that you owe me one after that and I need your help.”
“And here I thought I would never see the day that Gabriel Harvey begs someone for help. Do you have him on some kind of leash, Lena?” Charles interrupts his brother.
“Get out, Charles.” Gabriel demands him.
“And miss the fun? No way.”
“Now.”
He shakes his head back and forth. Gabriel just groans and leaves him be as he continues his so-called speech. He raises an eyebrow at me.
“Seriously?” I ask him.
“Seriously.” His tone is serious, his arms flex as he crosses them over his toned chest that is only covered by his dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up.
A lump in my throat builds up as I eye his tattoos. I swallow hard. “You still remember that night”
“I remember everything you say, love.” He says in a lower tone and my heart starts beating faster. In the corner of my eye, I can see Charles wiggle his eyebrows, reminding me of what he said earlier.
“Weirdo.” I mumble under my breath as I take the folder that Charles threw on my desk and look through the last business deal that needs to be looked through and throw it to the small pile labelled ‘need proofreading.’ The office is swarmed with utter silence as he taps his finger against the leather of the chair and Charles waits patiently for an answer. If he doesn’t stop looking like he just solved a New York Times puzzle - those things are not easy - then I will take my fifteen centimetres heels and shove them up his ass.
“Fine, what do you want?”
“I need a fake fiancée.” He says in a heartbeat.
“Fine, go to the dark web and search for a fake doll called Becky that will full-fill all your wishes, sexual too, boss.” I sarcastically answer his question without thinking about what comes out of my mouth and continue my work on the document. I hear Charles laugh in his seat.
“You really need to work on your flirting skills brother.”
“Charles, shut the fuck up.” We yell at him at the same time and he raises his hands up in defence.
“Two against one. That’s a little unfair don’t you think so too?” He complains. I roll my eyes at him.
“And stop calling me boss and be serious for once, Lena.”
That’s three times.
“I was joking, boss. I can ask a friend of mine if she is willing to step into the lion's dungeon and fake date you if that is more to your liking. Although I am not sure they will agree. No promises.” I smile as I say the last sentence
“I think I need to specify myself.” Maybe you do. “I need you as my fake fiancé.”
My smile drops, my hand stands still on the paper, the ink highly ruining the paper. “No.”
Good job, Lena. Stand your ground.
“I will give you a raise.” He tempts me.
Do not stand your ground just yet, Lena. I could use the money and normal people will say you don’t ask for something in return when someone asks for a favor but fake dating him for God know how long is torture and I should be rewarded.
“Still a no.”
“Triple that raise, for life.” I think for a moment before I answer.
“Wow.” Charles gasps.
“Nope.”
“Fine, name whatever the fuck you want and I will do it.” Well, the first thing you can do is shut the hell up.
No bad words. Keep your composure.
I need my quiet time. And with both of them hanging over my head is overstimulating me and stressing me out.
“Fine, stop asking me to be your fake fiancé, which is what you can do.”
“The one thing I can’t do.”
“You didn’t specify it. So, no.” I drop my head back to the file. I squirm when I see the ink spot of mine. I finish the last paragraph, close the file, and hand it over to Charles in hope that he will leave because this matter is private and he is not invited to the conversation.
“Leave. Now.” I demanded him as he wasn’t bugging from his seat.
“You two are too bossy today to my liking. And also, the only time I take demands from a woman is in the bedroom so if you want to, you know where to find me.” He winks at me and I am pretty sure I just puked in my mouth and it went back down.
“Ew.” I squeal.
“Charles, get the fuck out.”
“Okay fine, grumpy and grumpier.” He complains and leaves as he was told to. I know he is not playing around with the boss because Reneè bosses him around 24/7 and he is into that shit and is like a puppy with her. Talk about having someone on the leash. Reneè has a dog to protect her at all times.
“Back to you.” I turn my head to him when he breaks the silent.
“I will not be your fiancé for whatever reason but I can arrange you one.”
“I told my mother that her name is Elena.”
I gape my mouth at him. “Your mother? Why the hell would you do that?”
“I was under pressure. Lucky for you, only your name was on my mind.”
“How chivalrous of you to have thought of me. Don’t expect me to acknowledge that as a compliment.”
“I wasn't expecting you to.”
“Good. And I can still just get you a friend of mine and she can just act like her name is Elena.”
“You and I both know that is too risky.”
“Maybe, but at least I am trying to find a solution.”
He chuckles at me and the next ten seconds, awkward silence swims around the air of the huge office. I tap my pen against the table, the clucking noise of it slowly raising my blood and making me snap. “Fine. Triple my salary for life and only one night.” I tell him and go back to the paperwork in front of me.
He makes a weird noise that sounds like a rejection to my suggestion. I look up back to him. “What?” My voice cracks.
“Yeah, I was actually hoping for a month.”
I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself from snapping at him. I will not let him get to the worst of me. I will not. I lean back on my seat, trying to think if I should agree.
“Why a freaking month?”
“There is this charity auction in Venice and then family vacation in Rome-”
“Woahhhh, calm down, boss. I haven’t even met your family and you are already inviting me to a vacation. Pump the dating brake. One thing at a time.” I should really stop listening to Charles so often, his words are becoming mine and I hate it.
“I’m not much of a beggar so I will just say this for the last time. Please?”
I raise my eyebrow at him, leaning against my seat in amusement of his ‘begging.’ Still needs work but it’s a good start. “Well, it doesn’t seem you will be going down on one knee soon enough.” I complain as I always loved the concept of marriage and if I am doing it, I want to do it right.
“Why do you want me to go down on my knees and beg you to do this for me?” He teases with a smug grin on his face that I want to wipe away because evidently it is making my ovaries go crazy.
“Not much of a beggar, huh?”
“Lena,” he warns me, his eyes darken as he says my name in a growl.
“Fine. But you will have to do something for me too.”
“Anything, sweetheart.” He says in a strong seductive tone.
“I will be needing you to act like my fiancé for my mum too. She is CF and…” I trail off. I try to force myself to keep going but it is getting so hard. It is so hard to talk about it. My throat starts to burn up and my eyes sting for a moment before I blink multiple times to stop them from tearing up. Even after having known my whole life that she is sick, it is still hard for me to talk about my mum in the sense that she will die. “All she ever wanted was for me to find someone. To be in love. I want to make that one wish of hers true. Even if it’s a fake act.”