Gia
What were the chances of that asshole standing me up?
He said ‘Yes’ to my offer last night.
No debates. No argument. Just Yes.
After getting his number, I spent two hours crafting every detail about myself—careful to avoid anything that might expose our arrangement as fake—fully expecting at least a lengthy text thanking me for my time. Instead, all I got was a single-letter response.
‘K’
Just ‘K’. What even was that supposed to mean?
My blood boiled all over again as I stood outside the hotel, eyes fixed on the double tick beneath the address I’d sent over an hour ago. Seen. Read. Ignored. Worst scenario, Ghosted!
The more infuriating part, I didn’t even know his name.
Vivienne had already texted to ask if she and Mitch could drop by at the hotel to give both my boyfriend and me a ride.
An act that definitely didn’t come from the goodness of her heart, but from her relentless need to expose my lie and hand herself and Faye something new to mock me over. She’s been breathing down my neck ever since I told Mitch to break up with her.
My legs were tired from standing too long, my vision strained from watching my phone’s screen in anticipation of his response.
“f**k it—” I groaned, ready to dial his number when a noise sliced through the silence.
I swung my head towards the source, my lips parting in shock. Was that a Bugatti La Voiture Noire? Mitch’s dream car?
My eyes followed the black supercar whose engine roared like a nocturnal beast as it slowed and glided to a stop beside me. Then the window slid down and oh my God!
It was him.
My jaw nearly hit the floor and for someone who had a lot of vim towards him a minute ago, I surprisingly couldn’t move or even close my mouth. The dim light in the club didn't accentuate how breathtaking this man was.
The way his eyes drank me in was intimidating. The alcohol I consumed last night must have clouded my sense of judgment because on a normal day, he wasn't the type of man I would approach with the offer of being my fake boyfriend.
In a place where Mitch was beautiful. This man was brutally beautiful. The kind that burned, scarred, and ruined all at the same time.
That cocky smile returned to his face, and it hit me all at once that I was staring hard. Too hard.
“You are late,” I said sternly, fixing my posture.
“Standing there and checking me out is going to waste more time. Do you agree sweetheart?”
My face formed a scowl. “I wasn't watching you—” I clucked my tongue in slight irritation. “—and don't call me sweetheart!” My grip tightened around the bag of vintage champagne—Adeline’s favorite—as I rounded the car and opened the door.
I slid into the leather seat, fixing my seatbelt. “I almost thought you were about to ghost me?”
“I don't ghost people, Gia Heidi,” He said my name in that deep masculine tone that made me hesitate with the seatbelt for a beat.
I glanced up at him and the deep swirl of darkness in his eyes made my breath almost catch in my throat.
“So, what do you do?”
There was something different about the version of the man that I’d met in the club that did to me right now. Intoxicating.
“Cut them off,” The engine revved as his eyes finally left mine. “Life’s too short to play stupid games. Why ghost people when you can just block them? That’s too cowardly, immature, and low-bar,”
Wasn't being ghosted normal?
I think something was broken in my head because why did I prefer being ghosted to being cut off completely?
The last time Mitch went AWOL, didn't return my texts and calls, I nearly lost my mind.
So in those moments, when he returned, we mended our friendship. It consoled me to know that nothing had changed between us. The thought of being completely out of my best friend's life, terrified me.
“I think I prefer being ghosted…” I whispered silently.
He cut me that same intense look that made my nerves jittery. “That’s low,”
“Low?”
“Your standards are low,”
A scoff almost left my mouth as he returned to driving, his words still seared hot against my skin like a heated iron. I was almost tempted to remind him that I was the one paying for his services and that he should respect me.
I sucked in a deep breath, calming my nerves and the need to explode. Just a few hours of putting up with him and we would never have to meet each other again.
Instead of dwelling on his words, I steered the conversation in another direction.
“So…” I crossed my legs. “How much did it take to rent this car? Would I have to carry the cost or—”
“Rent?”
“Did you take it from your friend then? I mean, the club owner?”
A soft chuckle left his mouth. “What makes you think that I don't own this car? Classist?”
“Hell no! I’m confident that it is not yours. I mean, look at what you did last night? Who agrees to play the fake boyfriend without hesitation? Someone who is in desperate need of money,”
The corner of his mouth tipped into a sleazy smile. “Fair point,”
“So what’s your name?”
“Rick,”
Great.
“Did you go through the doc I sent last night?”
He cast me a confused glance. “I just said you were Gia Heidi,”
“How am I sure that you didn't just skim the first page?”
I frowned.
A strange light sparked in his eyes as he laughed, muscles flexing as he swerved left. “You are twenty-eight. Works as an event planner in the Moore design company. We both met on a yacht in Spain…fell in love while joking about the film Titanic if an iceberg suddenly appeared,” More laughter spilled from his mouth. “I’d never heard anything more cliché in my entire life,”
I shot him a cold look but still nodded in satisfaction with his close attention to detail. “Call it cliché or whatever but it’s a plot in my romance,”
He looked at me in surprise. “You write?”
“Short stories for my blog posts. Doesn't bring in a lot of money. But I love it,”
And yeah most of my characters were inspired by Mitch.
Two evils by Bastille blasted from the car’s speaker and as we neared Adeline’s home, I took one look at him and something in my stomach curled.
I noticed the scar slashing his eye-brow and the more my eyes narrowed on his, the more he felt dangerously familiar.
“Have we ever met before?”
Rick crushed a mint candy between his teeth, tossing an unwrapped one at me. “Yeah—” he said, without looking at me.
“Where?” I caught the candy, curiosity piquing in my eyes.
“Last night at the club,”
I rolled my eyes while he laughed and as the car pulled into the driveway, something slowly hit me like a tidal wave. I didn't give him the location of Mitch's mum’s home. So how did—
Before I could process one and two, my heart almost jumped out of my throat when he suddenly leaned in, his face inches away from mine as he grabbed me by the jaw softly.
“What are you doing?” My pupils dilated and retracted.
His scent clouded my nostrils, his eyes piercing into mine as he angled my head and whispered against my mouth. “Getting into character,”
Rick’s mouth captured mine softly and my head swirled as he kissed me until I was almost melting. My first kiss was horrible, the one with Mitch wasn't exactly memorable, but this—
Panic slammed into my chest as I pushed him away.
“What are you doing?”
Hunger darkened his eyes. No one has ever looked at me that intensely.
“Helping you sell your story,” my heart was pounding as he pointed to the lipstick on his mouth.
Then he smirked, while I was left panting as he left the car, opened my door, and held his hand out to me. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”
I blinked once, twice, before sliding my hand in his. “I’m sure kissing isn't part of the deal,” he took the bag of champagne from me.
My heart slammed against my ribcage, steps faltering as I spotted Mitch standing next to the barbecue stand with Vivienne. His eyes brightened as she laughed over something, jealousy blooming in my chest.
Then the harsh reality slammed in. They were engaged.
The corner of Mitch’s eyes crinkled as they skimmed past me, before he did a quick double take, the smile on his face melting as the stacks of paper plates he held dropped from his hand to the low grass.
However, this time, he wasn't looking at me. But at Rick.
Before I could process why his eyes suddenly widened, Adeline appeared at the door and shouted.
“Maverick!”
My heart stopped.
Maverick?
I glanced behind me, flitting my gaze around for Mitch’s psychotic brother. I’d only known him for a week and even though it was years back, memories of him still made me uneasy. The dark look in his eyes. That grim look on his face. Most importantly, he ripped the teddy bear that Mitch had given me in half.
I swiveled my gaze around for him. Where the f**k was he?
Adeline sobbed. “Maverick,”
“Mum—”
I froze, my mouth parting as I cast a look at Adeline who wrapped her hands around Rick.
Rick…Rick…Rick.
He darted his eyes to me, a mischievous smile curling his mouth and it clicked.
Rick as in Maverick Delwanosky. Mitch’s fraternal twin brother.