Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Darcy
“ Y ou will tell me what exactly you’re up to,” Sebastian snarled after my parents floated out of the dining room on a cloud of love.
I met his angered expression with a look of innocence, “I think you need to take your own advice. Remember when you told me not to act like a nagging wife?”
“ Forgive me if I’m upset to learn that my fake girlfriend went behind my back and called my father, of all people ,” he snarled.
He was right where I wanted him, wishing he’d never fucked with me. I was not a woman who would kiss his ass, so I couldn’t imagine why he was surprised that I wouldn’t back down. I couldn’t care less what this man thought about me, or if I made him angry, and with that in mind, I called up Daddy Aster. I told dear old Dad how his son had fallen in love with me, leaving him with the sinking feeling that his and Margot’s plan for Sebastian to get over his grief had backfired on them.
I said it in a compelling, innocent way, of course. I wouldn’t want to give the Asters a real reason to dislike me. It was better to stick to the straight-up, black-and-white reason: classism.
“You know, if this is your true personality, we should probably break up. Abuse is a horrific thing for a person to go through?—”
“Agh,” he practically yelled. “This is preposterous! You are out of your goddamn mind.”
“I thought the same thing about you hours before I was blackmailed to do any of this. Perhaps now that your parents are involved, you’ll dump me for calling them behind your back? Then, you can still give me the article because your dad expects it now, and we can peacefully go our separate ways. Sounds like the perfect solution.”
Unexpectedly, he flashed the wolf grin I found sexy before I realized there was nothing sexy about it or him.
“So, you thought your cute little phone call to my father would make me end all this?” he said, his smile growing broader as he cocked his head to the side to wait for my answer.
“I was hoping it would,” I answered truthfully.
He inhaled deeply, exhaled, and then sat back and studied me. “This is the thing,” he started, “you may think you know what you’re doing by involving my parents, but you’ve just opened Pandora’s box on yourself. You see, if I had told them about this nonsense about you and me, I would’ve been able to keep my mother from approaching you about it.”
“And?” I answered nonchalantly. “I’m not afraid of Margot Aster, just like I’m not afraid of you.”
“Well, that’s to be determined,” he said, finding something humorous about this. “Perhaps you should’ve asked my brother’s wife how my mother treated her when you met on the yacht?”
“Mickie and I weren’t close enough to trade war stories about her mother-in-law at the time. So, unfortunately, your mom never came up.”
“That’s a shame because if Mickie and you had known each other better, I’m confident she would’ve warned you against this reckless idea.”
I sighed, “Any more stupid shit you want to try and scare me with? Your parents know, and they’ll be here Monday. And newsflash, pal, your parents aren’t the only ones being lied to. My parents are, too, and it will upset them when they know the truth.”
“Oh, no, sweet cheeks. My parents won’t be upset that they were lied to about this. They’ll be wildly relieved to find out it was a silly and childish idea.”
“Fantastic for them. Regardless, they’ll be here, and your mother won’t have jack shit to say to me about her dislikes.”
“You’re confident in that assumption?”
“If she wants her family’s name envied by all the other miserable, rich bastards in the land, then yes.”
“Allow me to inform you here and now that if Margot Aster gets an inkling that you are playing games with her, she’ll?—”
“She’ll what? Insult my family? Too late. You’ve already done that better than anyone,” I answered him. “Perhaps she’ll make us break up, which I will gladly do, and hopefully, she’ll hurt my feelings enough and scare me away like I know she tried to do with your brother’s wife. If she does, I’ll have to break up with you because I couldn’t bear to stay in a relationship with her prized son, who is so greatly above me and my lowly status,” I said, knowing more about his mother than I wanted Sebastian to believe.
He stared at me, finally backed into the same damn corner he’d backed me into earlier today with all this bullshit.
“Very well, then,” he said as he stood and disappeared into the kitchen with his plate and wine glass.
I couldn’t hear what the hell was going on in there, but hearing all the crashing of dishes led me to assume that this man had more than just grief issues. He had anger and control issues as well. He was a beautiful disaster of bullshit, and I wasn’t going to sit here another second and listen to him take out his frustrations on the kitchen.
As I stood to march inside and ask him what his fucking problem was, he reemerged from the house.
“Oh, no, you don’t, cupcake,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere until we’ve laid some ground rules to follow from here on out.”
He was holding a brand-new bottle of his fancy tequila, and I rolled my eyes, unamused by his authoritative tone and presence.
“Already drowning relationship issues in booze, eh? Seems like a perfect idea.”
“And with that smartass remark, our first rule is that you stop acting like a nagging wife of twenty-four years who I’m stuck in a marriage with,” he said, pouring two glasses of tequila. “Be the cute, fake girlfriend you signed on to be.”
“That’s just the thing,” I answered, holding my hand up to turn down the glass of booze when he offered it to me, “this is how I act as a girlfriend.”
“Oh,” he said, sipping the tequila from the glass I refused. “Well, that clears up my confusion about why a stunning woman like yourself has no one special in her life.”
“Cute,” I said. “Tell me the next rule so that I can go to bed. I have a headache.”
“No using the fake headache excuse to go to bed before eight in the evening just to get out of my presence,” he said, most likely trying to be funny and stop this from escalating to all-out war.
“Fine. Seriously, Sebastian, snap to it. I don’t have all night for this. You might think this is fun and cute, but I do not.”
“Call me Seb,” he said. “It’s my nickname for those closest to me. I prefer that name, and I do not need you falling out of character by using formalities. Also, my late wife used to call me babe, so do not call me baby again. That is a hard and fast rule.”
“Fine, I get that. And while we’re on the topic of nicknames, the word cupcake must also be removed from your vocabulary.”
“Very well. It’s gone.”
“In fact, no cute names at all. Period. Everyone who knows me knows I wouldn’t call a boyfriend any kind of a pet name, especially baby,” I said, with an arch of my eyebrow. “And I know damn well everyone who knows you knows you’re not the kind of man to easily throw out a pet name, especially cupcake. ”
“Well, I’d only planned to use that in front of your parents because I assumed they’d eat it up, and they did, of course.”
“Bravo, for you, Casanova,” I said. “Real names only, and no cutesy, made-up bullshit. We’ll both give ourselves away.”
“True,” he said, and I smiled to see that we agreed on something. Rule number two or not, we both should’ve received an award for getting along, even if it was for a few seconds. “Rule number three: we cancel the interview with your boss. Nice try, by the way, and great effort to get your prize early, but I will not meet with that man. I promised you the story about my personal life, not Juniper. Also, my family will stay completely out of it. I will clear up their image, which Mark is systematically working to destroy, but that is between me and them, not you.”
“That seems like it falls back into rule number one, the whole meddling wife thing?” I smirked.
“Rule number four,” he said. “You are not to interfere with anything between my parents and me, especially when shit hits the fan upon their arrival.”
“I feel like you’re making up rules as we go,” I said, crossing my arms and challenging his smile as he poured another glass for himself.
“I simply have no other option with you, Darcel,” he said with a smile while I glared at him.
“Darcel? Really, dick?” I answered.
“You said real names and no pet names, remember?”
“Darcel is not a name I answer to. I never have, and honestly, I’ve heard that name more times since you’ve been here than ever before.”
I watched him chuckle in humor. “I’m quite fond of it, actually,” he said, choking back his laugh at something only he thought was funny.
“Rule number five: Darcel is off the table. In all honesty, that should’ve been rule number one.”
“Darcel only gets pulled off the table if I get to call you a believable name, and trust me, you’re going to want me to because I might slip?”
“ No Darcel . Jesus Christ, now I’m even saying the damned name.”
He chuckled, “Very well. No Darcel.”
“Thank you. Are we done?”
“No,” he answered, “I prefer to kiss you only when it’s appropriate, but if you pull away from me again, you’re showing everyone we can’t stand each other, and that raises red flags. So, especially since we’re not using cute pet names, no pulling away if I greet my new true love with a kiss on the cheek.”
“No,” I answered. “And that’s a rule I’m not bending on. Nice try.”
“We’ve got to make this believable, and tonight’s display was a horror show. The Mitchells will see right through us. Our agreement calls for you to be obsessed with me, which means that you’ve been longing for the gesture all?—”
“Do you realize how sick you sound right now? Blackmailing me into being an obsessed girlfriend and insisting I show everyone I want a kiss?—”
“Rule six: stop fucking interrupting me every time I’m speaking,” he snapped, and I smiled.
“I knew that annoyed you,” I chuckled. “I bet no one dares to interrupt a powerful man like yourself, right?”
“Most people have more manners than you,” he said.
“Well, Rule seven, then,” I said with a smile. “Don’t act like a controlling husband who cannot tolerate being interrupted when I’m right and he’s wrong.”
“Rule nine: I’m always right.”
“Making shit up again?” I said, knowing now we were going to get into a pissing match over made-up rules.
“Listen, we are way off track,” he said, flustered. “No, I’m not using this situation to get attention or steal kisses from you. I’m not trying to be some sick fuck about it, but it will be believable. And most new and in-love couples can’t keep their hands off each other. You and I must fall into that category, or everyone will see through our fa?ade.”
“Fine,” I had to agree with the dick. “Why am I doing this again?”
“You’ve gone so far out of your way to notify my parents and do all these silly things behind my back that you’ve forgotten there is no way around this. That is unless you want Tiffany Beaumont and her lovely husband to destroy what reputation you have with?—”
“Right,” I snapped. “Any more rules?”
“Last rule: stop going behind my back and doing things you think will upset me. It’s going to land you in some thick bullshit if you’re not careful.”
“Hasn’t let me down yet.”
“Really?” he said, lighting a cigar. “It’s landed you in a miserable relationship with me for the next couple of months, and unless I can get my mother settled down, you’ll be dealing with her wrath when she arrives on Monday. I’d say that running behind my back to get even with me has let you down quite profoundly.”
“Fine,” I conceded yet again . “Rule ten,” I jerked the cigar out of his arrogant and proud mouth, “no smoking in the house.”
I turned and marched out of the dining area with his bottle of tequila and cigar, searching for a quiet place to unwind my frazzled nerves. I plopped down in the grass behind the tree beyond the courtyard perimeter, where no one would ever stumble across me.
I took a huge swig of the smooth tequila before taking a puff of the cigar, which nearly made me gag.
I had no idea how I was going to make it through this, but if I had to start tolerating sick, disgusting things, I might as well start with cigars.