Fake Bride for the Last Bachelor

Chapter 4: The Contract

UNIVERSITY COLLEGE LONDON

POV GREY

Checking my watch once more I scanned the front stairs again. After Marceline had finally agreed to the deal last night, we swapped phone numbers. She told me that she got out of class at 4:30. It was now 4:40 and she was nowhere in sight.

People were already staring, and I had seen a few take photos of me. Even with sunglasses and a hat people still recognized me. I admit it wasn't the best disguise, but didn't people have more important things to do than watch me?

Pulling out my phone I began to dial her number right as I spotted her coming down the stairs. Her outrageous curls bounced with every step. She was chatting with a few other girls as they made their way toward the center of campus.

I started making my way toward her and watched as she tipped her head back and laughed loudly at something one of the girls had said. Her caramel skin glowed in the fading sunlight along with the many rings she had on her fingers.

"Marceline," I called out a few feet away. Her smile faded as she turned and saw me. I wasn't sure why, but I felt a bit of irritation curl in my chest. I didn't tell her I was coming but weren't significant others supposed to surprise each other?

"What's up," she replied.

"Marceline, why is Grey Downing calling your name?" I heard her friend with blonde hair loudly whisper to Marceline.

"Shoo, both of you. I will call you later to talk about the group project," she said, ushering her friends away. The other one, who was almost as tall as me, took what I'm sure she thought was a discrete photo. I gave them both a tight smile as they walked away, whispering to each other.

"What are you doing here?" Marceline hissed once her friends were out of ear shot.

"I thought we could go to dinner and talk about the parameters of our…arrangement," I replied quietly.

A surprised look came over Marceline's face. "That sounds fine," she reassured me, "but next time just text me alright? I don't think I'm really dressed to eat anywhere you usually would."

I waved my hand, "Don't worry, I have an outfit in the car for you."

She raised a perfect eyebrow, "An outfit? How do you know what size I am?"

"I had my designer look at a picture of you and he gave me an array of choices. I have them in the car waiting for us," I said, checking my watch once more. "We should leave now if we want to make our reservations."

"When did you get a picture of me?" she asked.

I cleared my throat, "That's not important. We really should go though. I'm worried some of the women here will start swarming us any minute."

Turning to walk back to the car, I noticed that more and more people were staring at us. I pulled my hat down further and took out a scarf from my bag. I pulled the scarf tight around my neck and picked up the pace.

"Wait up," Marceline huffed as she kept pace. "Where are we going to eat?"

"A French restaurant in the city, I'm sure you've never heard of it," I replied. We were almost out of the campus. It didn't look like any of the students were following us, thankfully.

"Are all rich people this rude?" Marceline teased. I slowed my pace and glanced down at her. She had that same sarcastic smile plastered on her face from yesterday.

"Yes, we are. Are all women this sarcastic?" I replied.

"Oh boy do you have a lot to learn about women," she sighed. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

Before I could answer, a swarm of photographers made a beeline for us. I stepped in front of Marceline before they got right in our faces.

"Mr. Downing, Mr. Downing over here!" one of them yelled. "Who do you have next to you? Is this your future wife?"

"How long have you been dating?"

"Does she go to college here?"

"What are your plans for the future?"

I could feel Marceline tug on my jacket as she hid behind me. I can remember the first time a swarm of photographers and reporters shoved themselves in my face. The intimidation they posed was overwhelming.

"Please step back, I will not be answering any questions at the moment," I bellowed as I pushed between them. Most of them stepped back but some were persistent. Putting my arm around Marceline I pulled her close as we got into the car.

Getting in on the driver's side I locked the doors and started the engine. I pulled away quickly, bumping into a few of the photographers that got too close.

"I didn't realize you were such a celebrity," Marceline teased.

"It's been that way almost my entire life," I snipped. "It doesn't help that they know my every move when curious students start taking pictures of me. I'm sure it's already posted all over social media that I was there meeting you."

"I'm assuming that is something I will also have to get used to," Marceline speculated.

I nodded, "Once it gets out that you and I are together you will have people hounding you until we separate. Even then they might still try to come up to you."

"I can see what you mean about wanting to be out of the public eye," she replied.

"Privacy is a hard thing to come by where I have grown up," I grumbled. "We will probably have to change cars and go somewhere else, or they will just follow us to the restaurant."

***

FOLI RESTAURANT

POV GREY

After meeting with the driver, we switched cars without anyone following us. I also had Marceline change her outfit since I knew the restaurant would not let us in with her wearing a sweater and jeans. I added getting her a new wardrobe to the constant list of things I needed to do.

Only one day had passed and I was already feeling weary about the entire deal. Pulling up to the new restaurant, after calling ahead to book something private, I handed the keys over to the attendant. Helping Marceline out of the car I couldn't help but admire how well my designer had fitted the dress for her.

The dress was simple but glimmered in the soft lights. The warm golden color complimented her skin tone nicely. The heels he paired with it also gave her a bit more height and helped show off her legs.

"The dress looks lovely on you," I whispered into her ear as we made our way through the front door.

She smiled at me, "Why thank you. Tell your designer that he is suspiciously good at guessing measurements if he could fit me from only a picture."

I gave the hostess my name and she instantly led us to a room in the back. She handed us small paper menus and told us about the specials. I started to dismiss her when Marceline interrupted, "Let her finish. I've never been here, and I want to hear the specials."

I could only sit, dumbfounded as the hostess continued on. Marceline thanked her and asked questions about one of the specials. Marceline ordered one of the appetizers and the hostess left our table.

"Right," I said, putting my menu down, "I've gone ahead and drafted an agreement for you to look over."

"Seriously?" Marceline asked with an amused smile.

I nodded and reached into my bag to hand her the contract I had written up. It was only one sheet of paper, but I wasn't taking any chances of this going wrong. My freedom was in view, and she was already enough of a wild card. I took out a second copy and waited for her to read over the list.

"Do you have a pen?" she asked, still staring at the paper. I handed one to her, thinking she was going to sign right then and there. But no, nothing is ever that simple.

"Why are you crossing things out?" I hissed.

"Because you can't tell me what to eat and what to wear," she mumbled. Tapping the pen on the paper she looked over at me from across the table, "Also, there needs to be parameters about physical things as well. I am going to be your future bride, so people are going to want to see us being physical in some way."

I suppressed the irritation already floating at the back of my throat, "Fine. What do you suggest?"

"Well," she started, chewing on the end of the pen, "I would think hand holding, hugging, cuddling, and kissing would be the very basic things people are going to want to see."

"And you're okay with that?" I asked.

She shrugged, "It's nothing I haven't done before. Plus, you look like a good kisser which is always an advantage."

I laughed quietly, "I'll have to take your word on that one."

Marceline slammed the paper down, "Are you telling me you've never kissed a girl before?"

I bristled at her question, "Not besides the regular mother and grandmother kiss on the cheek no." Before I could blink Marceline was already scooching her way around the booth to me. "What are you doing?" I asked as she sat next to me.

"I'm not going to go into this with you not knowing how to kiss me. Honestly, you're older than I am. I was sure loads of girls would have kissed you by now," she remarked.

"Well, it's not for their lack of trying. I was just never focused on personal relationships growing up," I replied. I suddenly felt embarrassed, which was not a feeling I wanted hanging around. So, I moved my body to face her and waved a hand for her to go on.

"Alright, close your eyes," she said, putting a hand on my chest. I did as she asked and the next second, I felt a pair of soft lips covering mine. She tasted like cinnamon and honey. I felt a warmth bloom in my chest as she pulled away.

"How was that?" she asked, her big brown eyes looking up at me.

I cleared my throat, suddenly at a loss for words, "Perfectly fine thank you. Let's try to keep kissing just in front of others though." She looked at my lips, biting her own, before moving back to her place at the table.

I watched as Marceline read the rest of the contract. She was still chewing on the end cap of the pen, a remarkably gross habit in my opinion.

"I have one more thing to add," she said, scribbling at the bottom. "You have to promise not to fall in love with me."

My laugh echoed around the room, "That won't be a problem."

She glanced up at me with a wicked smile, "We'll see about that."