Playboy Prince

"Do you really want me to expand on that here?" Liam's eyes meet mine. He raises a brow with his usual I dare you energy.

It actually feels normal.

Are we normal?

I don't know. But it's not like we've ever been normal. Not the way people usually say it.

We're both weird in our own ways.

"Ah. Here it is. Smith Tea," Preston calls. "A pyramid bag."

"Perfect," I say.

"How do you take it?" he asks.

"Plain is fine." A London Fog is complicated. I have to brew the tea double strength, then add warm milk. And I need to start with a particularly robust Earl Grey. Most are too light. They lack the body for milk. "Or a little honey."

Preston mumbles an okay. He moves ceramic in the kitchen. Fills a kettle.

"Let me help." Liam doesn't wait for an answer. He jumps out of his seat and moves into the kitchen.

He and Preston trade whispers. They seem friendly, but I can't make out the tone.

I stay busy checking my phone. The usual sale alerts from clothing companies and work emails that can wait until Monday. A text from my kid sister asking about my next visit home. A friend from college throwing a party next weekend.

A coworker who wants to know the status of Liam Pierce and me.

I know you work with him, but is that all it is? There's a rumor going around the office.

It's been a day and a half. How is this already circling the office?

I text Danielle to ask.

Briar: Did you tell anyone about Liam and me?

Danielle: Is it a secret?

Briar: No, but we don't want to upstage the bride and groom.

That's a plausible explanation, but it's not enough.

Briar: And I want to explain it to people at the office. I don't want people to think I got my job on my knees.

Danielle: That would be an interesting role play.

Briar: Speaking from experience?

Danielle: Oh god, I sound like Remy, don't I? Sorry.

Briar: You're only a three on the Liam scale.

Danielle: He's a ten?

Briar: An eleven.

Danielle: He'd like that.

He would.

Danielle: Adam and I haven't left the apartment.

Briar: Ah?

Danielle: It's not TMI?

Briar: If you don't mind me picturing you and your boy toy naked?

Danielle: Adam as a boy toy. I like that.

It is absurd. Adam isn't in any way a boy. He's mature, stoic, serious.

And he's chiseled in a masculine, adult way.

Liam is all boyish charm and youthful energy. He's boyishly handsome too. He'd look good in a newsboy cap.

Adam would look silly.

Briar: Is your boy toy up to your standards?

Danielle: We've been busy.

Briar: That is barely any information.

Danielle: Now, you sound like Liam.

Briar: I guess that happens.

Danielle: I thought you two were perfect for each other the moment I met you.

She did?

Danielle: You had that energy. Like you knew each other's bodies. Like you'd already fucked.

That's our story. That we were already screwing. But it's not true. Did Danielle imagine it? Or was there something between us?

Briar: Guilty. Where's my information?

Danielle: I did get ideas about the bridal shoot. Convinced Adam to create them with me.

Briar: With his clothes on?

Danielle: At first.

Briar: Can I see?

Danielle: When they're ready.

Briar: And he signs off?

Danielle: That's part of getting them ready.

"Earl Grey. As promised." Liam drops off my tea. A milky mug of coffee. He motions one minute, heads to the kitchen, returns with waters and another cup of Joe.

"I'm not a master chef." Preston enters holding a tray of French toast. "But Sunday is Jacinta's day off." He presents the silver tray with pride.

"That looks amazing. Thank you, Preston." It really does. Thick bread. Powdered sugar. Sliced strawberries. Maple syrup.

I'm not usually one for sweets first thing, but I haven't had French toast in years. Since I woke up early to make it for my kid sister on the weekends.

We were never close, really, but I always tried to take care of her when Dad was busy screwing around and Mom was too hurt to be present.

We fought a lot. We still fight a lot.

She doesn't see our parents' marriage the way I do. She thinks it's great they're committed and working through their problems.

Ugh, why am I riling myself up?

I'm not here to complain about the ills of marriage. Or the difficulty of family. I'm here to play Liam's fiancée. To convince Preston I'm making an honest man out of his surrogate son.

Besides, a cheating father and a well-intentioned yet absent mother are nothing compared to what Liam's been through.

He was so young when his mom died he barely remembers her. And he was only a kid when his dad died.

Then last year, his brothers were in that awful accident, and Bash died.

Liam spent two weeks out of the office. Came back as if nothing had happened. Mostly. I saw the weight on his shoulders, the tiredness in his eyes, the lack of enthusiasm in his gestures.