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When I headed into Hardin’s office, he buried his face in his hands. This was not good, and also hard to tell if he was laughing or crying. I closed the door behind me, closing the blinds, as well. “Are you okay, Hardin?”
“Desiree. I-I have never seen numbers like this since I started this show. You saved my talk show. Our fake relationship saved my talk show.” I swear if I had a dollar for every time I heard the word fake over the last few days, I’d be rich. Oh, wait, I was rich but that was beside the point. Playing along, I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, reading the monitor. Holy crap, he topped me, which would have pissed me off if I wasn’t so smitten with him now.
“Well now, you need to keep those numbers up,” I kissed him on the cheek, which seemed a natural thing to do. “I will be happy to help.” It was the least I could do. The Queen of Hearts show has run its course. I was done with it, though I was competitive and wanted to keep my numbers up. On the other hand, I wanted to see Hardin succeed too. It was a catch twenty-two situation. I was damned if I did, damned if I didn’t.
“How do you propose doing more than what we’re doing now?” I nuzzled closer to him, leaning over his keyboard, typing in ‘MEET & GREET DESIDIN.’ “Nope, nope, nope.” He deleted DESIDIN, typing in ‘MR. MONEY MAN WITH THE QUEEN OF HEARTS.’ “They already see pictures of us. What about if we meet the listeners in person? Not everyone has Snapchat or Twitter—it would be nice for them to put a face to our voices.”
He moved his head at the same time I did, and our lips grazed. I stood straight, taken aback by the butterflies ravaging my stomach. “Ummmm, I need to go back to my office. I forgot I have this thing I need to do for my radio show.” I couldn’t think of another excuse. This was supposed to be a business agreement, ascratch each other’s back kind of deal and I was becoming emotionally invested. I couldn’t—I can’t. ‘You are not attracted to him. He’s boring. One eye is smaller than the other. His breath smells like…’If I were to list all the flaws, I’d come up empty. Hardin was without as far as I could tell. But I had to remind myself, this was for business purposes only.
Nine
Hardin
That Evening
The show wasn’t holding my interest, and I was still distracted by that near-kiss in my office. Judging by her reaction, she was as crazy about me as I was her. Either that or she was just an outstanding actress who perfected the act of teasing me before running away.Hell, I don’t know. I had to hear her voice and pause the show, calling to my phone, “Hey Siri!” I was too lazy to dial.
‘Yes?’
“Call Desi.”
‘Just to confirm, you want to call Desi.’
I hate it when she does that shit. “YES!” I replied with the level of annoyance Siri expected.
“Hello, Mr. Mills!” Desi giggled. I assumed she was sitting on her phone, because she answered pretty damned fast.
“Hi, Miss King. Let me guess, you’re stuffing your face with chips and salsa, while watching Outlander, right?”
Desiree laughed again. “No. I am stuffing my face with the Godiva chocolates I stole from your desk, while watching ‘Pretty Little Liars’.” Humming in my ear, she continued, “I’m trying to avoid social media, it’s gotten so out of hand. Five-hundred emails, messages on every platform asking every question about our relationship, mostly all sexual to which I am not going to justify an answer.”
I couldn’t respond to that last comment as I am pretty sure it will never get to that point with either of us. I changed the subject quickly, “I had Frankie schedule the Meet and Greet next Saturday. Maybe you could try then?” Desiree apparently didn’t like that idea and groaned. “I didn’t call you about that though.” I paused, then hummed, “I’ve been thinking about that interaction in my office.”
“Yeah, um.” She hesitated and I winced like I had been punched in the gut. I don’t know what I expected. I suppose in my mind she was going to tell me that she wished we had kissed, but she was playing the role of the indifferent, bogus girlfriend.
“I’m sorry it happened.” I closed my eyes with the thought I was gripping a shovel, ready to dig my own grave. This relationship will go down in history as the shortest imposter relationship ever. “Do you want to FaceTime?”
“Wait a minute. You are sorry we almost kissed and you want to FaceTime me? Are you smoking crack?” Desi paused before she groaned, “I can’t. I am a mess right now; I am tired and would rather just chat with you on the phone.”
Okay, I admitted to myself that I was pushing my luck with her, but I had to see her cherub face. Her brown doe eyes ingrained in my mind and how they sparkled with mischief when she was up to something. I cleared my throat, “Desiree King, how would you like to go out on a proper date with me?”
“Hardin Mills, I would love to go out on a proper date with you.” I cheered under my breath, while pumping my fist in the air. “But no funny business.”
Psh, funny business? Only in my dreams. “What about next Friday? I am heading to Phoenix this weekend. It's my parents’ fiftieth anniversary, and I promised them I’d attend. But that aside, I’ll take you to some over-priced restaurant, maybe a movie, and if it’s still early enough, we can explore each other carnally at my condo.” There was no response, except for the crickets on the line. “Sorry. That was completely out of line.” Desiree groaned again, showing a level of exasperation, no doubt from my one-track mind. “Never mind, I’m sounding like a sex-deprived pig, I’m sorry. I will let you go. I have some research to do. Good night, Desi.” I hung up the minute she said goodnight with a heavy sigh.
Research, research. I started with her Facebook profile. Her picture was cute, I can’t believe I never friended her—click, done. Wow! She had a love of movies, mostly action, which didn’t surprise me. Her music taste was pretty eclectic too, going from Bach to Metallica. Books-books- yes, I can get her a book. There were no smut novels listed—she stated a love of classic literature.
‘I am the Queen of Hearts, but I live alone with my two Siamese cats, Si and Am. Don’t let my purple streaked hair, tattoos or piercings fool you, I am the polar opposite of a rebel. I love to relax with a fine bottle of Château Pape Clément Red, Mozart and lots of bubbles.’ Of course, I had to google the wine, holy fuck, that’s a two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar bottle, yet she could afford it. She loved Emily Dickinson and Poe, which would make sense with her somewhat Gothic appearance.
I pictured the perfect date, wearing my Tom Ford suit along with my Berluto Scritto loafers, while holding a bottle of her Château Pape Clément Red in one hand, a gift bag in the other with the hopes she didn’t have the first edition of anything. Ding, ding, ding- points for Hardin Mills. We’d eat our five-hundred-dollar meal, then perhaps I could persuade her to come back to my hotel room to pretend like we’re making love. Who was I kidding? I was not going to go to this extent to please her when what we have wasn’t even real. In my heart, it felt natural, and I wanted more, but I didn’t think Desiree wanted the same as me.
Ten
Hardin
Meet and Greet Saturday
As we sat under a gazebo in front of the Red Rock Harley dealership, it was safe to say this had to be Desiree’s idea. Even though she didn’t ride a Harley, she was a magnet for bikers, and they all crowded around her.
