Chapter Five #2
“Chessie, don’t let pride get in the way of a solution.”
“Pride is all I have. I’ll sort it.”
“How? I bet you’re already working a seventy-hour week.”
“That still leaves a whole day.”
“You can’t work without a break. That’s a sure way to make yourself sick. Believe me, that’s one of the first things I learned.”
“I can’t take your money, Kingi.” She speaks slowly, as if she’s thought about it and rehearsed what she’s going to say.
“It’s very kind of you, and I was ungracious before, and I want to apologize for that.
Yes, you could have phrased it better, but your offer was very sweet.
I just can’t do it. My father wouldn’t want that either. ”
“Even if it saved his house? And stopped his son getting his legs broken by some nutcase money lender?”
She bites her lip, but doesn’t say anything.
I’m lying on my side on the grass, and I prop my head on a hand. I might as well give it a try. What do I have to lose? “What about if we make a bargain?”
She frowns. “What kind of bargain?”
“I give you money. Enough to pay off Mark’s debt and all the money lenders, mend your mower, and make sure everyone’s flush. Probably a hundred thousand?”
Her jaw drops. “Dollars?”
“Yeah. And in exchange, you give me something else.”
She glares at me. “I hope you’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking.”
I stare at her, startled and indignant. “Fucking hell! Give me some credit!”
She returns my gaze for a moment. Her lips twitch. Then she bursts out laughing.
I sulk for a moment, then give a reluctant smile. “That wasn’t funny.”
“The look on your face…” She giggles for another thirty seconds, wrestling with self-control.
I would never, ever ask for sexual favors in return for money. But there’s no doubt that even though she’s very different from the women I normally date, there’s something about this girl that gives me goosebumps when she looks at me.
“Sorry,” she says, sobering finally. “You were saying about a bargain?”
I clear my throat. “I told you about what the Foundation said.”
“About you needing to be more respectable?”
“Yeah. They said it would be good if I looked like a man who values commitment, and if I had someone steady by my side.”
Her eyebrows rise. “Don’t tell me you’re going to propose to Sabrina?”
I snort. “Fuck, no.”
She gives a short laugh. “Wouldn’t that help matters?”
“E ipo, I’d murder her within the first forty-eight hours. I don’t think that would help my respectability.” The Māori endearment means darling. She wrinkles her nose at me.
“I don’t want to get married,” I state. I look at the ground and pluck out a few blades of grass. “My parents have put me right off that institution.”
“Oh?”
“Dad told me yesterday that Mum wants a divorce.” I glare at the grass, then lift my gaze to hers. Her expression has softened.
“I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. “That’s really tough on you.”
I shrug. I don’t really want to talk about it. “Anyway, I’m not interested in settling down with anyone. Monogamy is definitely overrated. But it occurred to me that I could fake it for a while…” I give her a mischievous smile.
She blinks. “Fake what?”
“Marriage. Or an engagement anyway.”
She blinks again. “What?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m saying I need someone to pretend to be my fiancée. Publicly. To come with me on social engagements, parties, that kind of thing. To make me look respectable.”
“That’s a mammoth task.”
“Haha.”
“You’re saying I could fulfil that role?”
I shrug. “We’re friends, aren’t we? We’ve known each other a long time. From the outside, it’s not beyond the realms of possibility that we’ve been dating quietly.”
Her brow furrows. “Kingi, nobody would ever believe that we’ve been dating.”
“Why?”
She looks at me as if I’m crazy. “Because I’m me and you’re… you.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
“We’re from different worlds,” she says softly. “You date models and movie stars—Sabrinas with designer dresses and high heels who are comfortable in your world. I date rugby players who’d have no idea how to put on a tie, let alone do a Windsor knot.”
“I know what you’re saying, but you’re… I dunno… wholesome.”
“Wholesome?”
“Yeah.”
“Next you’ll tell me I’m comely.”
“You are comely!”
“It’s an insult, Kingi. Like saying I’m a handsome woman.”
“No, it’s not. It means attractive, and in many ways it makes sense that after all the Sabrina stuff, I’d fall for a girl-next-door type.
You’re beautiful, and it’s a perfect, natural beauty, not the fake kind.
Do you really think women like Sabrina look the same without their foundation and hairspray and Instagram filters? They don’t, I can assure you.”
Her lips part, but no words come out for a moment. She closes her mouth. Then she says, “You think I’m beautiful?”
I smile. “Of course you’re beautiful.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“I’d do you right now, but I don’t want to put Thea in therapy.”
That makes her laugh, and we both chuckle. “You’re incorrigible,” she scolds.
“I know. Look. I could really do with some help. It’s a relatively easy fix.”
“So you want me to pretend to be your fiancée?”
“Yeah.”
“We couldn’t just pretend to be dating?”
“I date all the time. The board wants proof of commitment and responsibility.”
“You don’t find it ironic that you have to pretend to be respectable?”
I frown. “Honestly? I don’t see what all the fuss is about. I desperately want this position. I know I can help these kids. Yeah, I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve not struggled the way some of them have, but I’ve worked hard to get where I have.”
“I know.”
“I’d be there to teach them how to swim and climb mountains, and how to work together. To show them what it’s possible to achieve with hard work and determination. Not how to have fantastic relationships.”
“Yes, but kids see the whole package. They can read headlines.” She dips her head to catch my eye as I look down.
“I’m not criticizing the way you live, Kingi.
You’re young and gorgeous; of course you’re going to play the field, and I understand why you’re anti-commitment, judging by what you’ve just told me about your parents.
And I do think you have a lot to offer young people.
It’s just… if you’re going to do this, you need to think bigger.
It’s like being prime minister or president—if you’re going to set yourself up as any kind of leader, you’re going to have a torch shone on every square inch of your life.
Every decision you make will impact your image, and people are always ready to tear you down if you don’t meet their exceptionally high standards. ”
“I get it. That’s why I’m asking if you’ll help.”
She meets my gaze for a moment, a frown flickering on her brow.
“A hundred thousand dollars,” I tell her. “Don’t you think it’d be worth it?”
She straightens. “What would I have to do?”
Ooh, she’s thinking about it. I sit up, arms around my knees.
“So obviously we’d have to pretend to be dating.
Be seen socially a few times—at dinner, a nightclub, the theater…
So when we make the announcement, it wouldn’t come completely out of the blue.
Then we’d probably have an engagement party, maybe at Midnight. ”
She swallows. “And after that?”
I shrug. “Just be seen together, I guess. I dunno. Never been engaged before.”
She thinks about it. “How long would this have to last?”
“We could agree on a timeframe. At least until I get the position, and probably a little while afterward so it didn’t look too suspicious. Six months, maybe?”
“So… we’d have to be exclusive, right? No dating anyone else?”
I hadn’t thought of that. “Uh… yeah, I suppose.”
Her lips curve up a little. “Do you think you can go six months without dating?”
She means without having sex. Six months of celibacy. “Of course. I’ll… uh… just have to give my right hand a good workout.”
She gives a short laugh. “Yeah, me too.”
Of course, I’m asking her to give up dating and sex for a while, too. Now it’s impossible not to think about her sliding her hand under the duvet, over her breasts, down her soft pale tummy to between her legs, and pleasuring herself until she comes. Fuck.
Her lips curve up just a little more, as if she’s guessed what I’m thinking.
Then she takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “I need some time to think about it.”
“Of course. Can I ask that you don’t take too long, though? It would be cool if we could get started ASAP. It’s possible the board is already considering someone else for the role.”
“I understand. Just give me tonight to think about it. I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“That’s more than fair. But just to be clear—I’d still give you the money without you doing this. You know that, right?”
“I know.” She looks up as Thea crosses the grass with something in her hand and smiles at her.
“Look,” Thea says, holding out a curled-up fern frond. “It had fallen off, and it was on the floor. It’s like your necklace.” She gestures at me.
I look down at the greenstone necklace in the shape of a spiral that I have around my neck and lift it in my hand.
“That’s right. It’s called a koru—it’s based on the shape of the fern.
My dad gave it to me when I went to university.
It’s a symbol of new beginnings.” I lift my gaze to Chessie.
Her eyes are very green, exactly the same shade as the fern frond and the piece of pounamu or greenstone in my fingers.
She tears her gaze away. “We’d better get going.” She collects her bag, rolls up the towels and clothes, and puts them in.
I get to my feet. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” I say to Thea, holding out my hand
She shakes it, beaming. “Thank you for teaching me how to dive.”
“You’re very welcome. You can be the star of the show now.”
“Thanks,” Chessie says. “It’s been a lovely morning.”
“You’ll call me?” I ask.
She nods, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Come on, then,” she says to her niece, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Let’s go and get some lunch. I’m starving.”
They head up the steps toward the car park. I watch them go, enjoying the sway of Chessie’s hips and the way the sunlight paints her red hair with gold.
Then I head back to Midnight, hoping that she decides to take me up on my offer. I can think of worse things than being fake-engaged to Francesca Ross.