Fake Summer Wife

“Okay.”

We got off the elevator onto a floor that was nothing but walls, columns, and floor to ceiling windows. Vaughan wrapp

ed an arm around me, guiding me around the block of walls for what would likely be washrooms.

“Oh,” I gasped, as I looked through the wall of glass at the perfect sunset over the water. The colors melted into each other like an impressionist painting, so vivid and clear that I could barely bring myself to blink.

Vaughan’s strong hands guided me to a bright blue rectangle on the bare concrete floor. As we got closer, I saw that it was an inflated camping mattress.

“Let’s pretend it’s a couch,” he said as we sat down. There was a little white cooler beside him, and he opened the lid. “Champagne, ice cream, or both?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” He held up an ice cream bar and a can.

“Canned champagne?”

“It’s prosecco, but sure.”

“Let’s split them?” I suggested.

Vaughan cracked the can open and handed it to me, then divided the ice cream bar, handing me my half with a paper napkin. The combination of the two flavors was too sweet until the dark chocolate began to play with the bubbly wine. Then it was heaven.

“It’s a little known scientific fact that people are unable to be stressed while eating ice cream, did you know that?”

He spread his legs, turning so that he could pull my back to his chest and shoulders so that I had something to lean on. I wasn’t sure about the ice cream theory, but as soon as I felt his warmth, everything did seem a bit better.

“Vaughan, I—”

“No talking for a bit. Just eat, drink, and stare at the sky. Breathe.”

“You’re a pretty bossy kidnapper, you know,” I giggled.

His arm tightened around me for a moment. “Shh.”

We shared the wine and ice cream while watching the sky darken from peachy-pink to mauve. Then he set everything aside and wrapped his hands around my stomach.

Leaning against his chest, it was as if his calm, his strength, was flowing into me. As the waves far below lapped onto the shore and the few light clouds remaining turned purple, I felt like all of the tension had been drained from me.

If the point to this had been to chill me out enough to talk, it really did work. Yet nothing would change the fact that I wasn’t good for him or his business. No matter what he said, I couldn’t bring the toxic waste of my father into his life to poison everything.

“You’re sweet for wanting to get me to a point where I can talk, but there’s nothing to talk about,” I said. “I’m not good enough for you. Being associated with my Dad will be bad for your business. You need to be with someone else.”

A tear spilled down my cheek, which was infuriating. I wanted to sound firm.

Vaughan shook his head, then wiped away the tear with his thumb. Turning me back toward the window, he held me against his chest while lightly holding his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t speak any more.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted him to kiss me and forget about everything else. But I couldn’t let him spoil his successful family business just for me. No matter how I truly felt, I couldn’t mess up his family’s company.

Chapter 16

_____

Vaughan

She was scared. I could feel it in the occasional trembles along her spine, and the way she just didn’t want to listen to reason. Maybe growing up without having a father figure in her life had left Claudia unable to trust men. Or unable to feel secure.

I just needed to get her calm enough to hear me out.