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“Thanks for doing this,” said Alex, looking a little bashful still. “I’ve talked to Kayla about it – she knows it’s only a fake date, to keep the media happy. If anyone at school says anything, or she sees something about it in the media, that’s covered now.”
“That’s thoughtful of you,” I said.
He grimaced. “Glad you think so. She just gave me one of those withering glares she does and said, ‘Jeez, Dad, chill out. It’s no big deal. Like I care what you do’.”
I giggled. “It went well then.”
He smiled then too. “Believe me, that was pretty good.”
“As it is a fake date, you don’t get to see me change,” I said then, holding the dress up.
He startled at that, blushed furiously and pretty much jumped back from where he was leaning against the door frame. “Sorry!” he cried, and then strode off up the hall muttering something about seeing if the car was on its way.
A moment later, when I’d shut the door and I was in my bra and panties (of course!), the doorbell rang, and I heard Kayla let Clare in. Kayla batted away my dear friend’s attempt at conversation with a few grunts, and then Clare came in.
We squealed at the sight of each other and hugged tight.
“Wow, this place is amazing!” she cried. And then she stood back and took in my silky matching burlesque-style pink and black lace underwear. “I thought this was a fake date?” she teased.
I nudged her arm and stepped into my favorite dress. “It is! But I wanted to feel gorgeous under this baby too. Even if no one’s going to see this hot combo.”
“We need to go shopping for something like that for me,” said Clare then. “My sex life with Ralph is on its death bed.”
“You guys have been on again, off again for a while now,” I said. I loved Clare and wanted her to have the best of everything. I used to think that meant Ralph – but lately she’d been so lukewarm about it, and I wasn’t so sure.
“It’s going to be off permanently if he doesn’t sort his shit out, get off his phone and start showing up for our relationship,” she said fiercely.
“Good for you. Set your expectations high. You deserve it,” I said. “Here, zip me up, hon.”
She zipped me into the dress and we both gazed at my reflection in the beautiful vintage mirror. “Yep. Still got it,” I said, with a little smile. For a moment, I’d caught a glimpse of my pre-Maddy self.
“How are you going to do your hair?” Clare asked then, as I sat down at the dresser.
I smiled to myself. “Real big, beauty queen style,” I said, thinking of the Lana song. Yes, it was a fake date, but I was feeling good, and there was no reason I couldn’t give Alex a little of what he wanted, just for fun. He wanted Lana del Ray, he’d get her. For one evening only.
* * *
Alex had been speechless when I’d come into the living room in full heels, dress, done-up hair and sexy makeup.
“You look sensational,” he’d stuttered.
“Why, thank you,” I said, glowing inside. “You scrub up pretty well yourself.” He was wearing a deep blue serge suit with a matching shirt, and a pale pink tie.
I’d managed to wrench myself away from Maddy, knowing she loved being with Clare, and Alex had opened the cab door for me and taken my hand to help me in. Well, chauffeur-driven smart black limo, actually.
And now, he couldn’t stop looking at me as we walked through the lobby of The Latham, camera bulbs flashing all around us. Even though I knew it was only a fake date, I felt like a million dollars with all his attention on me.
“Alex, here!” shouted the rowdy press photographers, wanting the best shot of him for their media.
“Who’s your lady?” someone called.
Alex smiled at me and put his hand at the small of my back, leading me through to the hotel management team, who were waiting to greet us. The touch was electric, and his fingers slightly stroked the fabric of the dress, along the zip, as if it were a real date, and he was secretly communicating with me. You’re mine, his fingertips said, and wait until I get you home and get this dress off you. I winced and got a grip. Fake date, I told myself firmly. That’s why he’s touching you in those smoking hot little ways. To make it look real.
Well, I could keep up my end of the deal too. As we moved along the red carpet, I slipped my hand into his, leaned in close and whispered something into his ear. “You look hot tonight.”
He smiled and whispered back, so close I could feel his lips brushing my earlobe, sending sparks shooting all through my body, swelling my breasts and stiffening my nipples instantly – which I hope was caught on the many cameras. “You look hotter,” he squeezed my hand. “God, I could eat you,” he said, low and guttural. I felt the feral connection between us, the hunger, the wanting. We both knew it – it wasn’t play acting.
We dropped hands, to greet the management staff, and posed for photos with them. Then Alex gave a short speech about the gym opening, and the hotel’s new fitness outreach program. It was for veterans disabled in service, run in partnership with the Bills’ own on-site gym. I’d had no idea there was a charitable element to this event – I’d thought it was just to make Alex look good and keep up his media profile.
