Chapter 11
ROSE
Ididn’t know much about drug cartels except what I saw on television, but what I did know made me want to curl up in a ball and hide under the bed.
“But why do they think I’ve got the coke?’ I wailed. “I have nothing to do with any of this.”
Trevor, who had wandered away to speak to Dominic’s chief of security, looked very grim when he returned to the table.
“Boss, Logan’s putting out feelers as we speak. We have an in with the cartel through one of his cousins.”
I raised my eyebrows at Dominic in surprise because why did his security chief have a cousin who had ties to a drug dealer?
“I trust Logan with my life,” he said, replying to my unspoken question. “He can only control his actions, not those of his cousins. And in this case, you’re lucky he has someone with connections to them so we can fix this before things get worse.”
Hmph! It was easy for him to act like this was a minor inconvenience, but fixing this would require me to pretend I was his girlfriend.
And if I had to rely on my acting skills to keep me alive, I was so screwed.
Even now, my impulse was to kick Dom in the shins for everything that happened last night.
Not the part where he fed me, but the part where he drove me crazy with desire and walked away so calmly while I was reduced to a puddle of need.
It wasn’t fair that I had spent the whole night dreaming about different endings to that scene, and the only thing each of those dreams had in common was the fact that none of them ended with Trevor interrupting us just as we were getting to the good part.
I gave Dom a baleful stare while he was talking to Trevor, and as if he felt the heat of my glare on the back of his head, he turned to look at me.
“What?” he asked irritably.
“What do you expect me to do while you guys are fixing this?” I demanded.
“You have to prove to the cartel that, despite what Joe might have told them, you were never involved with him as more than a friend because you were dating Dominic all along,” broke in Grammy Cora. “Therefore, you had no reason to hide Joe’s stash for him.”
“Who’s going to believe that, Grammy?” I asked with a snort. “Just last week, Dom was spotted having dinner with Cece Blair.”
“So make it believable. We can spin that dinner as a business meeting, saying we want her to be the brand ambassador for one of our smaller brands. You’ll have to throw that woman a bone and hire her to represent our luxury perfume line or something, Dom. I’ll leave that to you to decide.”
“Thank you for that bit of autonomy,” said Dom dryly, and his grandmother scowled at him.
“I’m not leaving anything to chance, Dominic. Not where Rose is concerned. We have to nail every little detail in this case if we want to save Rose’s precious little neck,” she snapped. “No loose ends.”
“Well, you’ve wrapped up all the loose ends so neatly, Gran, that there aren’t any left. All that’s left is for you to name our firstborn child,” he shot back, and she grinned widely.
“That’s an excellent idea! I think a pregnancy rumour might be the perfect little touch to your whirlwind romance,” she cackled, and Dom slammed his hand on the table, making us jump.
“Don’t you dare,” he yelled at his grandmother.
“You’ve meddled enough in this matter, Gran.
This isn’t one of your matchmaking projects.
This is our life! Mine and Rose’s. After all this settles down, we need to be able to get back to normal, and that won’t be possible if we have to battle a pregnancy rumour. ”
“It’s not meddling if it works,” argued Grammy Cora, looking far too pleased with herself for my taste.
“No pregnancies - either fake or real,” I said hastily. “I’ll do whatever else it takes to make this look convincing.”
“Fine! But I have to say, you young people aren’t fun at all. If this had happened in my time, I would have taken so much pleasure in spinning an absolutely outrageous story out of it,” complained Grammy Cora with a pout.
I didn’t trust the innocent look on her face.
Not one bit. Because she was famous in Maplewood for her matchmaking efforts.
And I knew it was her dream to have Dominic married off as soon as possible.
Well, if she thought she was going to use this incident as an excuse to hogtie us and drag us to the altar, she was gravely mistaken.
I was going to play my part of fake girlfriend to the best of my abilities because it was my neck that was on the line, after all.
But after this was over, I was going to retire to my little cottage, heart-whole and crush-free, and become a crazy cat lady.
A rich, crazy cat lady, after my books took off.
“Can somebody tell me what to do next?” I asked desperately.
“Umm, I think we need to post some loved-up pictures of the two of you to social media,” suggested Trevor. “I could take some candid pics of you in the hot tub.”
I whirled around to stare at Dom, open-mouthed.
“You have a hot tub?” I shrieked.
“Focus, Rose,” he said wearily.
I pulled myself together and cleared my throat.
“Sorry, go on,” I said, with a nod to Trevor.
“Let’s do something cutesy that talks of a bond beyond the physical,” he said thoughtfully. “You guys have known each other a long time, right?”
“They practically grew up together,” replied Grammy Cora.
“So let’s dig up some of your childhood pictures together, and do a then and now comparison image. That will imply a sort of permanence to your relationship, that you were meant to be together,” he said, clapping his hands in delight.
I wondered when he’d drunk Grammy Cora’s Kool-Aid. Did she pay him to spout this shit?
“That sounds ridiculous,” I said immediately, and he held a finger up in my face.
“You, shush,” he ordered. “Focus on making it to all your appointments today.”
“What appointments?” I asked warily.
“At the salon,” he said, sounding far too gleeful.
“Babe, Mr Carlisle’s last date was with a supermodel.
We should at least get your roots fixed and do something about that frizzy mop you call hair.
And your skin is simply crying out for a HydraFacial.
And while we’re at it, we might as well get a wax and a mani-pedi because those nails? Blech!”
‘Hey,” I yelled, insulted, just as Dominic snarled at Trevor.
“Don’t you change a thing about Rose. She’s perfect as she is!”
My lips wobbled in surprise at his defence of me. Perfect was a bit of a stretch, but I didn’t think my transformation from woman to swamp witch was as complete as Trevor seemed to imply. Still, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to visit the salon and see what minor miracles they could perform in a few hours.
Trevor tapped his foot impatiently as I drained my second cup of coffee, and then he swept me away to the fancy new salon on Trunk Street.
I dug my heels into the sidewalk and stared at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows in horror. Inside, I could see the hair stylists at work, snipping, brushing, and blow-drying their way to glory. And honestly, it looked terrifying and completely out of my budget.
“When you said salon, I thought you meant Joanie’s on Main Street,” I said weakly. “That’s where I always go to get my hair done.”
“Yeah, babe, I know,” he replied. “But this place is so much better.”
“It’s also out of my budget,” I hissed. “I’m not going into debt over a fake boyfriend.”
“Would I ever let you make bad financial decisions?” he demanded.
“Always! You have no impulse control,” I pointed out.
“Yes, well…we’re going to treat this as a business expense. You’re on your way to becoming a very successful romance writer. And it’s now time to look like it.”
“What do you mean? I thought we were doing this because you wanted me to look like a billionaire’s girlfriend. Like Cece Blair,” I said, in confusion.
“Not at all. I want you to look like the best version of yourself because, as a certain somebody said, you are perfect as you are - purple streaks in your hair and glitter and all. Now, stop dragging your feet and get in there. I’ve had to promise your firstborn to Jared, the head stylist, for an appointment today. ”
I turned to stare at him in awe.
“You know what? Sometimes you scare me,” I said honestly.
“Good, because I am terrifying,” he quipped. “Think of me as your fairy godmother, but not the kind Cinderella had. I’m the other kind of fairy, with sharp eyes and pointy teeth.”
“Yeah, the kind who conducts shady deals by moonlight,” I added, with a laugh, as he dragged me inside the salon.
Jared turned out to be a six-foot-tall, three-hundred-pound silver fox covered in tattoos.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” I muttered to Trevor as we waited in the bright waiting area. “That is a biker, not a stylist. He looks like he’d be more comfortable doing oil changes instead of hair.”
“Oh, hush! He’s a fricking genius with scissors. Just don’t startle him while you’re in the chair. He still has PTSD from being in a motorcycle club,” he muttered back.
“That doesn’t fill me with much confidence,” I hissed, just as Jared came over to greet us.
I soon realised he was a gentle giant who knew exactly what he was doing. I held still in the chair as he examined my hair thoroughly before meeting my eyes in the mirror.
“Kick back and relax, honey. I’ve got you,” he said gruffly, and for some strange reason, I believed him.
I almost fell asleep when he led me to the hair washing station and began to massage shampoo into my hair, and I could have kissed his magical fingers when the stress of the past two days finally began to drain out of my body.
Jared stared at the top of my head fiercely before he began to cut and snip his way through my thick hair.
Two hours later, my jaw dropped in shock at the miracle he’d wrought.
I still looked like myself, but a glossier, fancier version. The purple streaks in my hair were still intact, but now they looked almost shimmery. And my hair looked healthier than ever.
“What do you think?” he asked, and I sighed happily.
“I love it! Thank you, Jared,” I breathed as he fluffed out my gorgeous waves, but before I could admire myself for too long, Trevor clapped his hands.
“Let’s keep moving, babe. Now, to the mani-pedi station. Are you still adamant about not getting the HydraFacial, though?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “An ordinary facial will do just as well.”
“Fine,” he said with a disapproving sigh. “Party pooper!”
I was waxed, exfoliated, and shined to within an inch of my body, until I was ready to scream.
“Where’s the champagne?” I demanded, and Trevor snorted in disdain.
“You’ll drink herbal tea and like it,” he stated like the tyrant that he was.
“Will not,” I fought back. “After the torture you’ve just put me through, I deserve sparkling wine, not one of your terrible potions.”
“Ugh! You’re such a brat,” he whined, as he snapped his fingers, and a tray full of champagne glasses magically appeared in my line of vision.
“Takes one to know one,” I said with a grin, grabbing a glass and holding it out as a peace offering.
It was way past lunchtime when we were finally done, and my stomach was growling.
“Wanna grab some food?” I asked after I thanked Jared and stuffed a hefty tip into his apron pocket, and Trevor shook his head.
“It’s time to take your fake relationship for a little outing around the town, babe,” he said, nodding towards the sidewalk. I whirled around to see Dominic leaning against the side of his Range Rover, arms crossed, as he stared at me expressionlessly.