Page 34 of Fake It For Glory

JENSEN

Sitting in the back of the limo, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anticipation. I was waiting for Merida to come out of her townhouse. I glanced out the window, observing the small, charming building that was her home. It was sandwiched between other similar homes. I was certain a person could stick their arm out their window and into their neighbor’s house. The neighborhood wasn’t great, but it was middle class. It made me curious about what she did for a living. Not that it mattered.

I checked my watch. I wasn’t going to be happy if she was late. Then she appeared, descending the stairs, and I was struck dumb by how ravishing she looked.

Her dress hugged her curves in all the right places, and her hair cascaded down her back with her curly hair relaxed into soft waves. My breath caught as I watched her approach, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride that she was with me tonight.

I hurried out of the car to open the door for her, and as she tilted her head back to look up at me, her eyes threatened to drag me under. “You look incredible,” I managed to say, my voice husky with admiration.

Merida grinned, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You clean up nice, too.”

As she settled into the limo beside me, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and wonderment. The night was young, and I was in the company of a woman who had the power to leave me utterly captivated. This gala event was bound to be unforgettable, and I couldn’t have asked for a more stunning companion to share it with. Seeing her in that dress told me I made the right decision when I chose her. She was going to knock the socks off everyone we encountered. People hated me because I was rich and wanted to change the face of technology. Now, they were going to hate me because I was with the most beautiful woman in the room.

As we settled into the limo, I felt the nerves creeping in a bit. The decision to show up with a woman to the gala was pretty bold. I had a reputation of going stag to just about everything. Years ago, I tried to take dates but it always ended badly. Either they were bored and begging to go or they scanned the room like a shark eyeing a barrel of fish. I was the appetizer. They used me to get into the swanky galas, but it wasn’t me they wanted. They wanted someone that would buy them the moon and not ask for anything in return.

“You know,” she began. “I realized there’s so much I should know about you, being your girlfriend and all. It would help me play the part convincingly, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at her straightforwardness. “You’ve got a point there. So, what would you like to know?”

She looked at me with a playful glint in her eye. “I don’t know. I guess we should start with things that are important, like are you deathly allergic to anything?”

“No,” I said, smiling. “You?”

“Nope.”

“You have one sister?” she asked.

“Just the one.”

I hesitated for a moment, thinking about my family, a topic I rarely discussed. “I come from a small family. My mother passed away when I was young, so it’s just my sister and me.”

Merida’s eyes softened with understanding. “I’m sorry to hear about your mother.” She nodded. “I guess I should know how old you are.”

“Thirty-four,” I replied. “You?”

“Twenty-nine.” She was quiet for a second.

I could see her trying to decide what to ask next. I wasn’t good at dating in general. I definitely didn’t know a damn thing about speed dating. What should a girlfriend know about her boyfriend?

“Do you like seafood?” she asked.

“What?”

“I assume there will be appetizers at this thing, right?”

“Of course,” I said, nodding.

“I, as your dutiful girlfriend, would probably put together a plate for you,” she said. “What appetizers would you want and which would you decline?”

She was better at this than I was. For some reason, that made me a little jealous to know she was a pro at dating and navigating all the awkward getting to know you stages. Her playful banter made me feel at ease, and I found myself willing to open up to her more than I had with anyone in a long time.

“Well, I’m a fan of shrimp cocktail, but I can’t stand anything too spicy,” I said. “And I’m not a big fan of oysters, so I’d probably pass on those.”

Merida nodded thoughtfully, making a mental note of my preferences. “Good to know. I’ll make sure to bring plenty of shrimp cocktail for you. What about wine? Are you a red kind of guy or something else?”

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. “I’m not really a wine guy, to be honest. I prefer a nice cold beer.”

“A beer guy, huh?” Merida’s eyes lit up with amusement. “What kind of beer?”