AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Have you made your decision?” Of course, he’d get straight to it.
I hesitated, but I already made my choice. “Yes.”
“Then meet me at my office and we’ll get everything settled.” He was assuming my answer. I didn’t like that he was so sure that he was right, even though he was.
“No,” I said, interrupting him. He didn’t reply, but I could feel his confusion from my apartment. But he didn’t continue, letting me explain. “If I keep coming to your office and we’re never seen anywhere else, we won’t seem like a couple. We don’t want this to be a secret affair. We need to convince gossip magazines and get photos of us together on twitter. It’ll make it more believable. We need to meet somewhere more appropriate.”
“That’s smart,” he admitted.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a confident smile spread over my face. If I was going to do this, I was going to be the best fake wife anyone could ever want.
“I’ll pick you up, around noon. I’ll make reservations at a restaurant. We can discuss terms as well as begin our charade.”
“That sounds perfect.” I gave him my address. “See you at noon Mr. Hirano.”
“Taylor.”
“What?”
“My wife should call me by my first name, don’t you think? Lydia?”
“See you at noon.” I swallowed unconsciously. “Taylor.”
“Noon, Lydia.” And he hung up.
It was strange to hear my name in his voice. The way he said it was still stiff, but it felt nicer than when he insisted on calling me Ms. Maxwell.
I redid my lipstick, a dark coral green, and sat at our little kitchen table. I spent my morning looking through the rough designs and fabric swatches my designers had submitted to me. I kept looking over the same details over and over again as my mind wandered off. This was going to be the most stressful lunch I’d ever been to.No, I tried to reason with myself,You’ve gone to lunch with top influencers in the fashion world. This is nothing compared to that. That made sense to me and made me feel a little better. But as I kept thinking I wondered if that was true, why was my heart still beating so fast?
Noon rolled around much faster than I thought, especially since each hour that passed that morning felt agonizingly slow. I heard a knock on my apartment door. I didn’t have to worry yet I reasoned. Surely his driver would pick me up and then I could prepare myself on the ride over to whatever fancy place he wanted to take me to. When I opened the door, however, there stood Mr. Hirano, or Taylor. He was wearing a black button up,no tie, and no jacket. My eyes went straight to the way his arms moved against the seams of his shirt. I blamed my instincts as a men’s fashion designer. I wanted to undo the buttons at his cuffs and roll the sleeves up, let his muscles breathe. I caught myself staring and quickly moved back to his face. His expression was schooled and closed off. Not much different than usual then.
“Well?” He said glancing back at the hallway.
I got the hint and followed him out of the apartment complex and to the car he had parked out front. It was a matte black Tesla with no driver in sight. He got into the driver's seat and even though it felt strange to me, I got in the passenger's side. Every influencer and company owner I’d rubbed shoulders with to get my business off the ground always had a driver, at least for appearances sake.
He started the car and we drove in complete silence. I lost count of how many times I fixed the skirts of my dress even though they were fine.
“So.” I started not sure where I was going with it. I just had to break the silence, or I would lose it. “Where are you taking me?”
“The Goose.” He said without taking his eyes off the road.
I’d heard of The Goose. It was an incredibly swanky place in town that opened last year. Of course, he’d take me somewhere like that. At least to keep up appearances, I hoped he’d be paying.
“Do you like the food?” I asked just to keep the conversation going.
“It’s food.”
“Yeah.” I said and turned to look out my window. That was useless. How on earth did this man handle business meetings if he didn’t speak? He was going to be a CEO after all.
The Goose was a place that took up the bottom floor of an old apartment complex. The red brick aesthetic clashingsomewhat with all the gold fixtures inside. We were seated immediately in a space towards the back of the restaurant. From where we sat, we could be seen, but no one was close enough to eavesdrop. Anyone looking at us could mistake us as a couple on a date. Perfect.
When the waiter stopped by to take our order, Taylor said, “The usual.” And the waiter seemed to know what he meant.
“I’ll take the fettuccine alfredo,” I ordered, not wanting anything too heavy or too complicated. No matter how many years I spent in the fashion world, I couldn’t get used to some of the kinds of food rich people ate.
Once the waiter had left, Taylor gave me a firm look. “Your answer, then?”
I huffed. “You obviously know what it is.”
