Chapter Ten
Chessie
The beautiful woman approaching the table looks vaguely familiar. She’s tall, almost six foot in her three-inch heels, slender, and stunning, with long shiny brown hair, immaculate makeup, and a dress that even my untrained eye recognizes as designer. I can’t place her, though…
Then I hear Orson mutter, “Fuck,” and see Kingi stiffen, and it comes to me in a flash. Oh… This is Sabrina Pearce, the supermodel. Her face is everywhere—on billboards, in magazines, and on TV. She’s also the woman he was dating.
He really broke up with her? She must have been terrible in bed. I’m straight, and I’d have trouble walking away from her.
“Sabrina,” he says flatly.
“I thought I spotted you coming in.” She’s talking to him, but she’s looking at me. Her gaze slips down me, taking in my lack of makeup, my hair, and clothes with obvious disdain, then returns to my face with puzzled amusement. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
What’s he going to say? Will he call me his fiancée?
“This is Francesca,” he says. “Francesca, Sabrina Pearce.”
She waits for a more detailed description, then when it’s obvious one isn’t coming, flicks me a smile and says, “Charmed, I’m sure.
” Despite her smile, her expression is hostile, and I feel a stab of dislike.
This woman went to bed with Kingi. He kissed her, touched her, slid inside her, and probably made her come. I feel a little nauseous.
“Hello,” I say. He hasn’t introduced me as his fiancée. I slide my left hand under the table. I don’t want her to see the ring and realize we’re engaged in public. She’s the sort of person who’d make a scene.
“You’ve met Orson, I think,” Kingi says, “and this is his fiancée, Scarlett.”
She tears her gaze away from me and gives them a brief smile, then looks back at me. “I haven’t seen you before,” she says, clearly confused that she hasn’t met me in polite society. “Are you from around here?”
Kingi opens his mouth, but before he can reply I interject with, “I live on Waiheke Island. I’m Kingi’s gardener.”
The others laugh. Sabrina looks startled, then says, somewhat icily, “A private joke, I’m guessing.”
“No,” I say, “I’m really his gardener.”
“It’s nice to treat the staff to a night out occasionally,” Kingi says, and I giggle.
“Well, I hope you all have a lovely evening,” she states, clearly not amused at being made fun of. “I’m here with John Anderson, you know, the movie director?” She gestures over at her table.
“You up for a part?” Orson asks.
“Lead role in Ocean’s Eleven Inches?” Kingi suggests, and then I remember another recent headline that revealed she’d starred in a porn movie when she was younger.
Her smile disappears completely. “That was spiteful,” she says bitterly.
“It’s called karma,” Kingi snaps back. “Remember that next time you feed Kōrero a slanderous headline about me.”
“Well,” she says icily, “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. You never know what’s around the corner.”
She glares at him, then at the rest of us, before turning her back and returning to her table.
“What did she mean by that?” Orson asks.
“No idea.” Kingi’s glowering.
Orson clears his throat and asks Scarlett something about her opinion of the restaurant. While she answers, Kingi’s gaze drifts out of the window. He looks serious, thoughtful, a slight frown on his brow, and I remember that he didn’t introduce me as his fiancée.
I lean on the table and tip my head to catch his eye. “Are you having second thoughts about our bargain?”
His gaze comes back to me, and he turns his glass in his fingers. “Maybe. If it backfires, it’ll only make things worse.”
My brows draw together. Neither of us has really thought this through.
If he isn’t able to convince the board members, they’re going to be shocked and insulted by what I’m sure they’ll see as an immature prank, and he’ll definitely lose the CEO role.
And if they tell everyone what he’s done, if the press finds out…
his reputation will be completely ruined.
Nobody will trust him or take him seriously in the future.
“I suppose we need to decide whether we can really convince everyone,” I say softly. “Or whether we’ve bitten off more than we can chew.”
His lips twist. “It was a fun idea.” He heaves a sigh.
I smile. “You give up easily.”
He studies me, puzzled. “You thought it was a crazy idea to begin with.”
“I did. But I know how much you want this job. And I really think you’ll do some good in the role. Plus I want to say thank you for the money.” I’m conscious that Orson and Scarlett have stopped talking and are listening, but I feel it’s important to clear this up now.
I’m nervous about spending so much time with him, about being a part of his world, being in the limelight, which doesn’t come naturally to me at all. I know my own heart, and I’ll have to be careful not to believe this picture we’re painting for the world.
But I do want to help him. He’s my friend, and he’s saved my family, and that’s no small thing in my eyes.
He’s genuinely a kind, honest guy. He’s just young and oversexed and a little thoughtless because of it, but I can’t imagine there are many men in his position—thrust into a world of wealth and beauty—who wouldn’t be the same.
And now I really want to do it to spite Sabrina. The way she sneered at me annoyed me. She’s a nasty piece of work, and posting that headline about Kingi was uncalled for, even if he was clumsy about how he handled their fling.
“I think we should do it,” I announce.
His eyebrows lift. “Seriously?”
I shrug. “Yeah. I wasn’t convinced… but now I’ve met Sabrina, I really want to do it.
What she did was cruel, and you didn’t deserve it.
The kids at the Foundation will benefit hugely from you being around.
And besides, I don’t have anything better to do over the next six months, so… ” I shrug again and grin.
Orson and Scarlett have stopped talking and are waiting for Kingi’s reaction. He glances at them, and his lips slowly curve before he looks back at me.
“You’re sure?” he asks softly.
I nod.
“Okay.” He takes my hand, lifts it to his mouth, and kisses my fingers, just above where the ring sits.
To my confusion, Orson makes a sound like a chicken, “Bwah… bwa, bwa, bwa…”
Kingi gives a short laugh, lowers my hand, and says, “Fuck off,” to him.
“Why are you calling him a coward?” I ask Orson, puzzled.
He just chuckles, and then I’m distracted as the waiter arrives with our platter.
Oh my… Scarlett was right; even though I saw the menu, I was totally expecting a pile of deep-fried prawns and fish pieces, and the only tuna I’ve eaten came in a tin.
Here, though, it’s cut into thin slices, and when I dip it in the wasabi crème, it tastes amazing.
I’ve never eaten a quail egg either, so that’s a novelty, and although I’ve had oysters, these are served with a gorgeous dressing that floods my mouth as I tip the oyster in.
Everything is beautifully presented, and it all tastes fantastic.
“That’s the best food I’ve ever eaten,” I declare as I eat the last seared scallop.
Kingi watches me, smiling. “It’s nice to see a girl enjoying her food.”
My eyes widen, and I pull an eek face. “Oh crap, I suppose I should be nibbling politely at everything.”
“Rubbish,” Scarlett says. She’s been eating as enthusiastically as I have. “What’s the point in coming to a restaurant like this and having a bowl of steam?”
I giggle. I like her. The fact that she’s not as used to this lifestyle makes me feel better, because it obviously doesn’t bother Orson.
The waiter comes and takes our plates away, then tops up our glasses with wine. I need to be careful not to drink too much, but I can usually handle a couple of glasses without making a fool of myself.
We chat for a bit, and then the waiter brings over our mains.
The Canterbury lamb rack comes with roasted garlic mash, harissa glaze, and seasonal greens, and it smells amazing.
Do women like Sabrina nibble at their dinners and only eat half of it before declaring they’ve had enough?
Well, I don’t care if it does mean I have extra curves, I’m not going to let a piece of this go to waste.
I tuck in, enjoying every mouthful of the tender lamb and vegetables, and dipping into the extra truffle fries with parmesan and aioli that Orson ordered.
Outside, the moon is rising, shining her light down on the people still queuing for a table and the people walking by who linger to catch a glimpse of any famous faces.
Usually I’m the one outside looking in, not just physically but metaphorically, and it feels strange today to be sitting at the table with two rich guys, drinking what I’ve discovered is the most expensive Sauvignon on the wine list, and eating exquisite food.
And not only that, but I’m going to be doing it for the next six months!
I can’t believe my luck. Ria was right—why shouldn’t I grab this opportunity with both hands and run with it?
I’m helping Kingi out by pretending to be his fiancée, so it’s not like it’s charity.
It’s hardly going to be a chore to act like I’m in love with this guy.
It’s easy to look as if I’m hanging on his every word, because I kind of am.
He’s warm, funny, friendly, and gorgeous, and he makes me feel as if I’m the most important person in the room when he looks at me.
Of course it’s all for show; I have to remember that. But it’s fun to pretend it’s real.