Chapter 20
I texted my friends, looking for some emotional support about Isaac, but since it’s three-thirty in the morning in Arizona, they’re understandably silent. Oddly enough, Mr. International was available and had good advice.
Look like I’m thriving—that’s my motto.
I spend extra time on my hair and try on three different outfits. If I were at home, I’d have a lot more options to choose from, but I settle on a black cocktail dress with a square neck. The bodice is fitted but ruched, and the sleeves puff out, complementing the flowy bottom. It’s short, but not so short I look unprofessional, and the square neck shows just enough cleavage that someone searching will be rewarded—and Isaac will definitely search. Bright-red lipstick, beach waves with a small portion of hair pulled up, and silver hoop earrings finish the look.
The elevator dings, and I walk into the lobby with all the confidence of an heiress who just came of age. Nate is already at the meeting spot. Casually, he leans back against the bar with a drink in his hand. His gaze halts when he sees me, slowly tracking up and down my body. This dress isn’t meant for him, but I can’t help the uncontrollable heart spasms happening in my chest.
“Hello.” I lift my chin to greet him, noticing how good he looks in dark fitted slacks—bottoms rolled, no socks with dress shoes—and a slim short-sleeve button-up. The top two buttons are undone, like he’s letting loose a little more on vacation. He looks smart and handsome, and honestly, if this is how it’s going to be all week, I better mentally prepare.
“Don’t worry, he’ll like it.” His gaze flicks over me again.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Isaac…he’ll like your outfit.” He takes one more long glimpse then looks away, sipping his drink. “If dropping a mic were a dress, this would be it. It’ll do its job.”
His words are said with little emotion, but I can’t help the heated flush they bring with them. “Thanks.” My eyes scan the lobby.
“You can relax. He’s not down here.”
“I wasn’t even looking,” I bluff to save face. “Have you seen your parents yet?”
“Nope.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Actually”—he straightens, setting his drink down on the bar—“I’ve been thinking, and I have an idea that could help both of us.”
My weight shifts like I already know I won’t like whatever he has to say.
“What if we pretend to be together during the trip? We could be boyfriend and girlfriend for my parents and make Isaac jealous.”
One boisterous laugh spits out. “You’re joking, right?”
Except, nothing about Nate’s expression says he’s joking.
“You want us to fake date?” I clarify.
“Yeah, why not?”
“I can think of a hundred reasons why not. ”
“It’s the perfect plan. It solves both of our problems.”
“No, it solves your problem. It does nothing for me.”
“Think of how you felt earlier when you saw Isaac with a new woman. You’d be flipping the tables, giving him a taste of his own medicine.” His brown eyes turn sultry. “When I get done with you, I’ll have that man so jealous he’ll beg you to take him back.”
When I get done with you? Why is my mind latching onto those words and running wild with them?
I fold my arms protectively over my chest, not liking the stirring inside. “Who says I even want to make Isaac jealous?”
Nate’s eyes fall over me and my outfit. “You’re already trying.”
“It’s just a dress,” I lie, pushing an unconvincing smile over my mouth. “I’m not begging for anyone’s attention. I’m over Isaac. Thriving, actually.”
“That’s not how it seemed earlier when you were hiding under the table.”
I glare back at him. “Your idea sucks and would never work because we can’t stand each other.”
“That’s exactly why it would work. The whole thing would be fake—a means to an end—without worrying about real feelings getting involved.”
“I don’t even think I could fake liking you.”
Nate takes a step forward, suddenly in my personal space. His dark stubble is at the perfect length, his cologne is working overtime, and his brown eyes glimmer with just enough cockiness to tear down my best defenses.
The deepness of his voice catches my breath. “Are you scared you might end up liking this arrangement?” His finger lifts, trailing softly down my arm, leaving a burning wake of chills as it goes.
I hit his hand away. “I’m scared I might end up getting fifteen to twenty for dismembering you if you ever touch me like that again.”
“Fatal attraction?” His brows lift with amusement as he laughs.
I roll my eyes, using the gesture as an excuse to step back from him. “Listen, you’re on your own. For once, you’ll have to be a mature adult and face your parents.”
Whatever charm he had moments ago drops. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I actually dislike you more than I did when we started this trip.”
“You’ll get over it.” I glance at the clock on the wall and then look around at the group gathered, recognizing a few faces from check-in earlier. “It’s six p.m., and we only have half our group.”
“Typical.” He looks at his Apple Watch for confirmation, not trusting me with the time. “I’ll head to the dock with the first group. You come with the rest.”
“You’re just trying to avoid your parents.”
“No, I’m trying to be efficient and get to the dinner cruise.”
“Fine,” I relent, knowing that corralling a group this size isn’t easy.
With confidence and a winning smile, Nate turns to everyone. “We are so excited to kick off our Pureskin incentive trip. For being on time, you guys get to be first onboard our dinner cruise. I suggest a table by a window. The night views of Bangkok are unforgettable.” A few people cheer with raised glasses. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll head down to the dock, and my associate, Carly, will bring up the rear with the latecomers.” The group begins to move, forming a line behind Nate. “I’ll see you down there.”
I lift my chin in acknowledgment and smile at the guests as they pass by.
The next elevator spills out more Pureskin executives—Mack and Connie Farnsworth among them. My eyes dart to the clock. 6:03. For a man who touts being responsible, he sure isn’t very punctual.
Mack searches the lobby, finding me instead of his son.
“No Nate again?” Disdain coats his words.
“You just missed him. If you’d been on time, you could’ve gone down to the boat with the first group.” I say it with a sweet, sweet smile. “We’re just waiting for a few more, and then we’ll head out.”
“Sounds good.” Connie smiles back at me while tugging her husband away. That poor woman’s whole life is spent keeping her husband in line.
It’s another ten minutes before Isaac and Lauren Ashley appear. My lungs forget how to work when they step out of the elevator—him in tan slacks and a sports coat, her in an off-the-shoulder maxi dress. Nerves surge, but I keep it together, conversing with other guests as if I don’t notice them.
“Carly?”
I flip my head, feigning complete surprise. “Isaac? What are you doing here?”
He studies me, my smile, my dress, my legs, my cleavage that he searched out. Nate was right; the dress worked. Better than I hoped.
Lauren follows his roaming gaze and nudges him. “Isaac, aren’t you going to introduce us?”
“This is my fiancée, Lauren.” He says the label with purpose, like it’s meant to cut, but my smile doesn’t falter. I’ve had hours to prepare for this moment.
I reach my hand out. “How nice to meet you. I’m Carly Catterson. Isaac and I used to work together.”
Recognition flickers through her expression, and so does a smirk. I don’t know what he told her about me, but it wasn’t good.
“Likewise.”
“I work for Pureskin now,” he interjects, ensuring I know about his new, fancy job. “I run their events.”
My smile is big. “Well, you’ll run their events after this one.”
“Right.” He glances around. “And what about your job? What is it called again?”
He knows dang well what it’s called.
“Voyager Travel Events, and I love it. Instead of planning just one big incentive trip for a single company, I plan several a year.” Isaac never cared about the destinations like I do, but I name-drop them anyway, trying to show how much better my life is now. “Since I started working here, I’ve been to Bali, Egypt, Cabo, New Zealand, and now Thailand.” Okay, I fibbed about Bali and New Zealand, but under the circumstances, the lie is warranted.
“I’d hate traveling that much.” He pulls Lauren possessively closer. “We could never be apart that long.”
“Yeah.” I watch them kiss, feeling the sting. “Well, I have to get back to work. Somebody has to run this event.”
“You always did like to control things.”
I have no response.
I’m the beaten-down woman from ten months ago, standing in his glass office, feeling every eye on me.
Turning to the group, I invite everyone to follow me down to the dock. At least now I can escape Isaac.
But I should’ve known things would never be that easy. This man is destined to destroy me. He sidles Lauren next to me, and the three of us walk side by side as we make our way to the boat. And in classic Isaac fashion, he talks nonstop about his and Lauren’s whirlwind romance, purposely using his words to dig at me.
“We were at a club at two a.m., and I just saw her dancing.”
Said because I didn’t like to go clubbing, especially after eleven p.m.
“We connected over sports.”
Said because the hours he wasted watching sports were a constant fight between us.
“And we discovered we both have a mutual hate of social media.”
Said because he thought my Instagram travel page was juvenile.
“That was four months ago, and we’ve spent every moment together since.”
Said because I liked my independence.
“We do everything together.”
Said because I didn’t like how co-dependent he was.
“When you find someone who’s so easy to get along with, you jump on it.”
Said to drive home the point that I was not easy to get along with.
“Well, that’s all really special.” I force cheeriness into my voice. “I’m happy for you both.”
“What about you? Are you dating anyone?” The patronizing tone behind his question tips me over the edge, and before I can think about all the ramifications, words spill out.
“Yeah, of course I have a boyfriend.” I nod, gaining steam. “Maybe you met him earlier—Nate.”
“Nate Farnsworth? The other guy running the trip?”
I could have just lied and said I had a wonderful boyfriend back home—a surgeon with a summer home in Sedona, but instead, I threw myself into the fire.
Like an idiot.
I blame Nate and Mr. International for this turn of events. Seeds were planted in my head, and now I’m desperately watering them so they’ll grow.
“Uh…yeah.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to play it cool.
“For how long?” He doesn’t seem convinced.
“It’s new.” I’m a fibber too. “Really new.”
“Hmm.”
I steal a glance at him, noting his hardened jaw and faraway, distressed look. Nate was right again. This little ruse gives Isaac a taste of his own medicine, and it gives me great satisfaction. This is me thriving.
But then the reality of my lie hits.
For the next eight days, Nate Farnsworth will have to be my fake boyfriend.