Chapter Eleven #2
I turn my back on the beach and walk back to the villa, ignoring the dread nipping at my heels.
Seraphina
Venice
A gondola drifts by on the canal below. The oarsman, dressed in the traditional black-and-white striped shirt and straw hat with a red ribbon, navigates the boat as the couple in front of him gaze at each other.
Just before they pass under a bridge, the man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box.
They disappear from view, but judging by the excited squeal, she’s going to say yes.
I can’t help but smile as I turn and gaze down the waterway.
Stone buildings line either side of the channel, some in shades of ivory or earth tones, others done in bright yellows and salmon pinks.
The rounded dome of the Basilica di Santa Maria della Salute stands above most of the rooftops.
Gondolas, water-buses and sleek wooden boats maneuver through the greenish-blue waters.
It’s been six days since the Hudson Springs gala. Four since the photo shoot and our sudden flight to France. And a day since Aiden came down to the beach and shared what had turned him into the man he is today.
I glance over my shoulder. We flew into Italy this morning and checked into the Aman Venice.
Not into a room but an actual apartment on the fourth floor that includes a living room with a crystal chandelier and ceilings painted with works of art that look like they should belong in a museum, an in-room bar and access to the rooftop terrace.
Sadness flickers through me. There are also three bedrooms. My room is, once again, stunning, from the pale green walls and sprawling bed to the windows overlooking the canal framed by filmy white curtains.
But the separate bedrooms are a reminder that no matter how much Aiden and I might enjoy each other’s company, our affair is strictly physical.
My heart aches every time I remember his face as he told me about the girl from his past. Learning more about the trauma he experienced, the series of blows and heartbreaks, puts his wants into perspective.
I understand why he doesn’t want to fall in love, why he doesn’t think he’d be a good father.
I understand it all. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing things were different.
I sigh and lean back, closing the window with a quiet click. I don’t wish Aiden was different. I respect him for who he is. I liked him before, and I like him even more now.
Especially after the jaw-dropping news I received this morning.
I pick up my phone off the bed and read Mona’s text again for the fifth time.
It’s a long rambling message with numerous exclamation marks as she thanks me for the endowment fund Aiden set up.
Fifty-five million dollars with a withdrawal rate that will give Grace’s Refuge an operating budget of two million dollars every year.
He hasn’t said a word. We’ve spent almost every moment together the last few days.
We’ve been getting to really know each other.
What movies we liked, books we read, places we’ve visited.
Aiden’s vacation destinations were much more glamorous than mine, but he liked hearing about my summer vacations with my parents, our trips to Maine.
We’ve also been thoroughly enjoying our newfound affair.
Our picnic on the beach culminated in him carrying me up the stairs to his room and making love to me on his bed.
After dinner he showed me to the library, where we ended up on the rug, completely naked as he cradled my hips in his hands and took me from behind.
But eventually he left. Just like he said he would.
I toss my phone onto my bed. I told myself I could do this.
Told Aiden I could remain detached. But the more time I spend with him, the more intimate glimpses I get to see of the man behind the suit, the more I’m coming to realize that my crush ran far deeper than I ever realized.
Every minute I spend with Aiden is teasing those suppressed feelings to the surface.
The sound of a door opening and closing yanks me from my reverie.
“Seraphina?”
I suck in a breath, grab my phone and head out to the living room.
Aiden is standing in the middle of the room, dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a black tie.
He looks up and smiles when he sees me. My heart twists.
He’s been smiling more lately. He seems so much more relaxed, happy, even with the New Field deal still hanging in the balance.
“You look beautiful.”
Another of my New York shopping spree dresses, a turquoise dress with a matching belt held together by a gold butterfly and trimmed with white lace at the sleeves and hem.
“Thank you.” My breath rushes out. “Hopefully it impresses Mr. Randolph.”
“You’ll do great, as you always do.” He holds out his arm. “We’re meeting him in the hotel bar.”
Five minutes later we’re seated on a long white couch in front of a window overlooking the hotel garden.
The walls are covered in red and gold silk, with intricate frescoes adorning the ceiling.
A bartender in a black suit stands behind the bar, expertly mixing cocktails as he switches from Italian to English to French as he chats with guests.
I’m sipping a French 75 and trying to keep my nerves under control as my gaze moves between the gold chandelier, the smartly dressed guests and the doorway.
Aiden is reclining on the sofa, a whiskey sour in one hand. To the average passerby, he looks relaxed. But there’s a tightness in his posture, faint lines next to his mouth.
I lay my hand on his knee. “We’ll make this work, Aiden.”
His eyes flick to me. “I hope so.”
I wish he’d confide in me. Tell me the real reason he’s pursuing the takeover of New Field so aggressively. I have a feeling that whatever it is, it could also sway Randolph’s opinion.
He sits up and leans forward, brushing his lips against my cheek. I stare at him as a silly smile crosses my face. It’s the first time he’s kissed me in public since our charade began.
“Thank you.”
Someone clears their throat. Aiden and I both look up to see George Randolph standing next to our table. He looks faintly amused as he glances between the two of us.
“Good afternoon.”
Aiden and I both stand and shake his hand. Randolph sits in the chair opposite our sofa.
“So. The two of you.” He shakes his head. “Don’t know how I missed it.”
“I’m sorry.” Aiden tenses slightly, but I plunge in.
I know Randolph’s dossier like the back of my hand, know what he and his campaign managers are focusing on.
“Once we realized how we felt about each other, we wanted some time and privacy to learn more about each other.” I glance at Aiden.
“We didn’t want to announce anything until we knew for sure where our relationship was headed. ”
“Judging by the size of that ring, I’d say Hawke knows exactly where he wants this relationship to go.”
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” When I look at Aiden, I let all my growing feelings shine in my eyes. “He’s very generous.”
Aiden stares at me, his face tense, as if he can sense there’s a hidden meaning to my words. I turn away and face Randolph.
“I know integrity is important to you, Mr. Randolph. It was never our intent to deceive.”
The amusement disappears, replaced by the bullish look I’m more used to seeing in our client meetings. “You must understand how those photos looked. The impact it could have if someone chose to capitalize on them during my campaign.”
“And now,” I add with a sweet yet firm smile, “your name is linked to one of the most prestigious wealth management firms in the world. A firm that is known for its ties to the Hawke Foundation, which just recently purchased a brownstone on West 86th for a domestic violence shelter and set up an endowment fund to maintain operations indefinitely at Aiden’s behest.”
Randolph looks at Aiden with something approaching respect. “I didn’t know.”
“That’s one of the things I love about Aiden. He doesn’t feel the need to publicize every good deed. He does them because he believes it’s the right thing to do.”
Randolph stares at me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he turns to look at Aiden. “And what do you have to say, Hawke?”
Silence falls at our table. Then, finally, Aiden speaks.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Stunned, I whip my head around. Aiden is gazing at me with such admiration it takes everything I have not to lean over and kiss him in front of everyone.
“I see.” Randolph leans back in his chair. “Well, now that that’s settled, I’d say a drink is in order.” He motions to the bartender as Aiden and I glance at each other.
“Does that mean you’ll stay with Hawke Financial?” Aiden asks.
“I was skeptical. Very skeptical. The Gilded interview went live on their website on Tuesday, and my team noticed a change in the dialogue surrounding your gala photos. I’ll forewarn you, Miss Clark,” he adds with a slight smile, “that my wife has requested you join us one day for brunch so she can ask you numerous questions about your fire dancing.”
My smile is real. I’ve met his wife a few times at the office. She can talk a mile a minute, but she’s also very kind.
“I would like that very much.”
His face softens. “But seeing the two of you here… I will be staying with Hawke Financial.” My relief is short-lived as Randolph holds up a hand.
“I’m not ready to make a decision on New Field.
It’s a risky venture. I’m not saying I don’t agree something needs to be done.
But it’s a massive undertaking. One,” he adds with a slight raise of his brows, “I don’t fully understand your motivations for. ”
Please say something, Aiden. Tell him whatever it is that’s driving you.
“Someone confided in me, Randolph,” Aiden says, his voice cool. “The abuse they suffered is the tip of the iceberg of what’s going on behind those walls. It’s not just a savvy political maneuver and financially beneficial to your portfolio, but it would save lives.”
A strong speech. But I can see Randolph isn’t swayed by it. Like me, he suspects there’s something else going on, reasons that run far deeper. That Aiden isn’t sharing puts us both on edge.
“I’ll have an answer for you in forty-eight hours. Meanwhile,” he says as the bartender walks up, “a bottle of champagne to celebrate the happy couple.”
As Randolph asks Aiden a question about one of his recent investments, I lean back and sip my drink. We’re halfway there. Randolph is staying with Hawke Financial. He’s still considering New Field. The whirlwind of the last few days hasn’t been for nothing.
But as I sit next to Aiden, as he lays his hand over mine while he sips on his drink, his words echo in my head.
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
When our fake engagement ends, I won’t be able to stay. Can’t continue to work alongside him knowing how his bare chest feels beneath my hands, the taste of his lips, the feel of him inside me. Won’t be able to see him resume his dating life and watch him go out with a parade of women.
I look up as Aiden squeezes my hand, give him a bright smile when he shoots me a questioning glance. I’ll deal with my emotions later. For now, I’ll focus on playing the role and doing whatever I can to sell our ruse.
A ruse that, for me, is becoming all too real.