I reached into my jacket pocket, past the fragrant underwear, and curled my fingers around the small box tucked within. Then rising, I moved beside her chair and lowered myself onto one knee. Flipping the box open, I raised it toward her, watching her eyes bug out at the sight of the contents. The pink diamond flittered and shimmered, casting rose fire over her skin. She reached out a shaking hand. It may have been part of the act, but she was doing a damn good job, I thought with satisfaction.
And something else.
“Sasha Ramirez,” I said softly; somehow my voice was husky, which was a pretty good touch, though I hadn’t planned on it. I licked my lips. “Sasha…will you make me the happiest man on Earth…and be my wife?”
I was laying it on thick because the press loved that shit. Yeah… you keep telling yourself that’s what it is, boy,a voice said from the back of my mind. I kept my eyes fixed on her face. The entire restaurant was so silent you could hear a pin drop. She raised shaking hands to cup her face. She was really doing a great job.
“Oh! Oh, my God! Yes…yes!” She stretched her hand forward, and I grasped it, extracting the glittering gem from its box. I could feel her trembling as I slid the band along her finger. Perfect fit.
I rose to my feet, slid my arms around her waist, and swept her up against me, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. There was a round of applause behind us. I ended the kiss and dropped my face into her neck. “Well done, Sweetness, you’re doing great,” I murmured against her skin. I felt her stiffen, but then the champagne was popping and diners around us were cheering. I pulled myself away from her slightly and gave a slight bow.
“Champagne on me,” I announced, beaming broadly. For a minute, it almost felt real. I glanced at the girl beside me and imagined a life with her.Fuck, she’s beautiful.I raised her hand and displayed the insanely huge rock. It didn’t matter that it had been intended for someone else. It couldn’t have graced a more exquisite hand. There were loud whispers from around us as the rock gleamed. It had made news a while back when it hit twenty-five million on auction and it occurred to me that if Sasha was that way inclined, she could walk off with the thing and forget about the contract.
But she wouldn’t.
I don’t know how I knew it. I just did. I looked down at her again, imagining that face in ten years. forty even. She’d be beautiful still.
What the actual fuck, Walker! She’s a whore!
I reached for my glass, returning my attention to the watching crowd. “To Sasha Ramirez,” I said firmly. “The most beautiful woman in the world. And the new face of Ardmore Glamor Curls!” There was a gasp from those in the room.Good. Let that circulate for a bit.I stooped and brushed my lips against Sasha’s cheek. She looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Tough. She needed to get used to the attention.
“Hey!” a voice called from the group surrounding us. “Hey, I know you!” I frowned.Who’s after me now?
“Gingerbread? Hey, Gingerbread!” A thickset man was weaving toward us, holding a glass. He was leering, his lips and teeth stained with red wine. “Yo! Ginger, remember me? It’s…” he was slurring. “It’s me, Bert…Don’t you ‘member…?”
Sasha’s face was a mask of shock. She retreated behind me.
“I think you’re making a mistake, buddy,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Naw…no mistake, that’s my pretty Gingerbread Girl alright,” he swayed and reached around me, clearly too drunk to realize just how big a blunder he was making. “Babe! C’mon…we never had a chance to finish what we started.”
“I said that you are mistaken,” I bit out, each word clearly enunciated. He continued to ignore me until I pressed my palm against the front of his shirt. He looked down, then turned surly eyes on me.
“Get yer hands off,” he snarled. “That’s my girl!”
Was he fucking kidding? How drunk was this guy?
“No. That’smygirl,” I said, menace coloring my voice. I had his attention now and again the crowd was hushed as he dropped his wineglass and balled his fists, shifting from foot to foot on his toes. The fucker might be out of shape and drunk as a skunk, but it was pretty clear he was an old brawler. Probably had his share of bar fights beneath his belt.
“Bring it, pretty boy,” he sneered, then swung a roundhouse at my head. Bad move. I ducked, swung low, aimed a fist at his soft gut, and as he buckled forward, caught him beneath the chin with a blistering uppercut. The man dropped like a stone. Behind me, Sasha gave a sharp scream. I turned to her.
“Are you okay?” I asked. She had her hands over her face, eyes huge. She nodded silently. “Get your purse,” I instructed. “We’re getting out of here.” The maître d’ was fluttering around us in a state.
“Monsieur, oh, monsieur, I am so very sorry!” His face was aghast. He looked down at the man on the floor as if he was something someone had scraped from the bottom of their shoe. “Your meal…it is on the house, of course,” he babbled.
I shook my head. “I won’t hear of it,” I replied. “My office will cover it. And his tab too.” I tilted my chin to the man who still hadn’t started to move. “But I think it’s time to head home.”
“Of course, of course,” the man was still babbling. “Pardon!Excusez-moi!” he clapped briskly, clearing a swathe through the cluster of people who’d suddenly appeared from everywhere. I strode behind him, pausing as we reached the front door. As it swung open, the insane crush of awaiting press photographers almost burst through the doors.
Jesus. How the hell did they get here so fast?And then it occurred to me that the supposedly “discrete” maître d’ had probably tipped them off. Obviously, he could have had no idea about the brawl, but the proposal was something his greedy little media-hungry brain would have latched onto like a leech. I was hardly surprised – I’d almost been counting on it. But the drunken idiot had been a fly in the ointment I hadn’t anticipated. And I should have.
Fuck.
I’d gone to great lengths to find a suitable candidate to play my fiancée whose profile wouldn’t have made any blips on the radar. Picking a call girl came with its risks. But it had been a risk I’d taken when I hired her in the first place. It was my own fucking fault.
Had I just made the biggest mistake of my life?
