“Ifyou come to it,” Axel interjects. “In the meantime, let’s discuss this arrangement. I think if you understand why it has to happen, and what results we hope to get, you’ll be more comfortable.”
I stand up. “I’ll be more comfortable when I’m back at the hotel, showered, and fed. I’m sweaty, exhausted, and done with this conversation.”
I walk out of the room, but over my shoulder I add, “Axel, feel free to swing by my room in a couple hours to discuss this further.”
I don’t bother to wait to hear Axel’s objection.
7AXEL
With every floorthe elevator climbs, the more antsy I get about it. That meeting went so badly that it was almost laughable. Not to mention that Damien pulled me aside afterward and reamed me out for not mentioning that I had been involved with Gabriel. I explained "involved" was a stretch, but he didn't care. Henri said I made him look bad to Louis because he was the one who suggested me. Louis didn't seem to care, in fact, if anything, he saw it as a bonus. He thought we would be more at ease with each other. Ease is not what I'm feeling as the elevator doors open on Gabriel's floor and I make my way to his suite.
I rap my knuckles on the door and it flies open a second later. He's standing there in the hotel robe. White, thick, but loosely tied so half his sculpted bare chest is on display. "Spoiler alert: bathrobes for meetings are inappropriate."
He rolls his eyes. "Well, I was naked when you knocked so you're lucky I put on anything. I'll change. Just come in."
I step inside and he turns and marches through the suite and into the bedroom. In front of me is a huge living room, with a glitzy mirrored bar and coffee station and a pink velvet couch by the window that overlooks the Leonard Cohen mural on Crescent Street below. In front of the couch is a room service tray covered in food. I have no idea what any of it is though, because the silver dome lids are covering everything. But the entire room is filled with delicious, savory scents.
I realize I’m ravenous.
“I ordered a few things because I have no idea what you eat,” Gabriel calls out from the bedroom. The door is open but I can’t see him, which is a good thing. “There’s a grilled halloumi salad which is sent from heaven if you’re a vegetarian and there’s a poached salmon dish with a lobster butter sauce and good old American burgers and fries.”
He emerges from the bedroom. His hair is damp, which I must have missed before. Too busy staring at his bare chest, I guess. Now he's changed into a pair of deep blue pajama bottoms made out of some kind of soft-looking fabric that clings to him like a needy kitten. But nothing else. I frown at him. He pushes back his bare shoulders defiantly. "Look, I spend hours in layers of fire retardant clothing sweating my ass off. I hate piling on more layers at home. So just deal with it. Also, I've had meetings with a lot of people looking like this so you're not special, I promise."
Ouch. Okay then. I move toward the couch and sit as far as possible on one end so he has lots of space. It's not a huge couch and it's curved, almost kidney-shaped. He watches me shift and wiggle with an amused smirk, but he doesn't say anything. He sits down square in the middle of the couch and starts pulling lids off the food. "I wasn't sure if you'd show up or quit."
“I don’t scare easily. I just look like I do,” I reply.
He slides a plate with the burger and fries on it to my end of the table. “How about we half everything? That way no one’s taste buds get FOMO.”
I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I don’t know why I don’t want him to think I find him charming. He hands me a knife and I cut the burger in half while he dresses the salad.
The next several minutes are spent in silence as we eat. We both drink ice water with lime and raspberries floating in it. It isn’t until he leans over and steals a fry that we start talking.
“Why did you take this job?” he asks after he swallows down the fry.
“Because I needed a job,” I reply and sip my water. “Now let’s talk about how we’re going to make this work. I’ll go first. You stop trying to humiliate me in front of your father. Or anyone.”
He laughs, leaning back into the sofa, stretching his long defined arms across the back like he hasn't a care in the world. "How does one go from creating and running the most successful public relations firm in Australia to agreeing to be a boyfriend to a race car driver in a marketing ploy?"
I promised myself I would stay calm and focused and not let Gabriel ruffle me, but that did it. My eyes flare and my jaw tenses so hard I swear I might have cracked a molar. His inky eyes absorb my reaction and a small, almost sympathetic smile plays on his lips. “I figured now that I know your name, I get to Google you too.”
“Fair enough, I guess,” I mutter and exhale long and slow, forcing myself to unclamp my jaw too. He’s waiting intently for an answer. “I had a bad break-up and needed to try something new.”
I don’t elaborate that I needed to try something new because my ex took my biggest accounts with him when he walked out the door on me, and the company I’d allowed him to work for without a non-compete clause. Because I was in love and trusted him. I decide to change the subject, or at least veer us back to work. Because that’s what I’m here for, not to share my deepest humiliations.
“If you want a different person to be your fake boyfriend, that can be arranged,” I tell him as I lean forward, putting my elbows on my knees. “But your father will want to vet them as thoroughly as he vetted me which will cost us time. We were hoping to get this started tomorrow.”
“How the hell is this going to fix anything?” Gabriel stands up and walks to the bar. He pulls open the door of the small fridge and peers at the contents.
“Optics matter. You’ve been this careless playboy your entire life,” Axel replies. “Do you know that after we met, when I Googled you, every candid picture that came up was you doing something intimate with someone. You kissing a girl on a yacht in Croatia. You with your hand on some girl’s ass at a bar in Spain. You in the States grabbing some guy by the hair.”
“That was Austin,” Gabriel explains as he pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge. “I know the headline on that tabloid was something about me getting aggressive but he likes things rough. He got off on me yanking on his hair or slapping his ass. He likes biting too but I refused.”
"He had a bite mark on his shoulder a few days later when he was photographed at a farmer's market," I remind him, because yeah, I deep-dived Gabriel long before I had to.
“Wasn’t me. Get a dentist to analyze the bite mark.” Gabriel walks a little closer and offers me one of the beers but I shake my head so he puts it down on the coffee table and twists the cap off his. “We weren’t exclusive. I don’t do exclusive so I don’t know where that bite came from but it wasn’t me.”
“Well, it looked like it was you and you do exclusive now,” I reply and he lifts an eyebrow. “I mean, you’ll pretend you do. This should only have to go on until the case is dropped. Damien is really confident that we can do that before the end of the season.”
