Cori paced her office, running her hands through her hair, after Tony and Carmine left. “I had no idea who you were. I’m so sorry. Oh, my God – how embarrassing.”
“It’s okay. I knew who you were,” he said, cringing at his own words. Now, he did sound a little creepy.
“Wait – then why didn’t you tell me – oh, my God, I said horrible things! You let me say horrible things.” She covered her mouth with both hands as if it would somehow take everything back she’d already said.
“People tell me what I want to hear, simply because I am who I am, and they think they’ll benefit somehow from it. I don’t like smoke blown up my…” He stopped himself and corrected, realizing he was talking to a lady. A lady who clearly didn’t use a lot of off-color words. “Well, I guess I like honesty, and you were being honest.”
“I mean, well, maybe I was…”
“Being honest,” he finished for her, sensing her hesitation. “So, dinner tomorrow night. Let’s get to know each other so we slam dunk that engagement circus.”
“No, I mean, you don’t have to. I was just going to email or text a cancellation in a few weeks. Like I said yesterday, I appreciate your help on the spot, but I think I’ve honestly gone too far. Today being case and point. I don’t expect you to, you know, go through with it.”
“You’re my fiancé,” he said, using air-quotes around fiancé. “We’re going. Besides, that wind bag, Winnie, and pencil dick, Phillip, are jealous, and they should be. Her face when they left yesterday…priceless.” He stood and made his way out of the office, headed for the elevator.
Before she could think of more reasons to turn him down, she found herself invested and planning what to wear. “But…what should I…wear.” Her voice trailed off to a near whisper on the last part, seeing that he was likely out of range, stepping onto the elevator.
When he turned, their eyes locked as the doors closed, and he gave her one more look at that charming smile. She was in trouble.
***
Walking back to the office from lunch, the next day, Cori reflected on her previous 48 hours and no matter how she spun it, she felt…bad. She never felt bad, despite her life being full of shaky facades…this being the biggest. It didn’t help that she didn’t sleep well the night before either. It left her with a bout of brain fog that seemed to consume her in the moment.
She didn’t know what to wear and spent most of her morning trying to decide. What kind of dinner meeting would it be? Business? Casual? Was this a real date? She imagined that he didn’t eat anywhere she had ever been, and the places he frequented likely had a dress code. She looked down at what she had on, realizing she was dressed more for a board meeting with the boss, not a date with him. She’d have to worry about that later…along with everything else.
Nick had said he knew who she was, despite her not knowing who he was, but he didn’t. No one did. She wore knock off designer clothing, or that which she bought at a thrift shop for next to nothing. He didn’t know that she lived in a shabby, too small, studio apartment above a Chinese restaurant, outside the city, because it was all she could afford. The car service she was thought to use was her friend, the Uber driver. All facades.
Sure, she didn’t have to tell him any of that and could let him go on thinking he knew who she was, but at some point, the half-truths and anything but the truths would come out. For now, she could let him think he knew her and only share what she wanted him to know. That wasn’t being dishonest; it was just not being forthcoming. It may not matter anyway. This ploy may not even work.
Her phone rang with a double ring, indicating it was an internal call, the moment she sat down at her desk. The I.D. running across the top said it was Nick – Dominic – Mr. Blackthorne. What was she supposed to call him?
“Hey, it’s Nick,” he said, upon her answering. He answered one question for her – he was Nick to her. “Do you like it?”
“Like what?” she looked around her desk, confused and unsure what he was referring to.
“Look behind your door,” he said.
She stood, stretching the phone cord over her desk to the door, closing it to reveal a garment bag hanging on the affixed hook. Holding the phone between her shoulder and ear, she reached for the zipper, opening it to reveal what was inside. “Oh, Nick. It’s…beautiful. It’s…oh, wow. This is too expensive. It’s a Gwendolyn Brock. I can’t accept this; it’s too much.”
“Wear it, tonight. It’s yours.”
“But I can’t. I could never pay…”
“It’s a gift, Cori.” He knew she was proud, and his intention wasn’t to insult her, so he switched gears. “Besides, a friend owed me a favor, and I called it in.”
“Nick…”
“I invited you to dinner, and you didn’t know what to wear. You asked me what you should wear. This is me answering.”
So, he had heard her before getting on the elevator the day before. “Well, that’s…very thoughtful of you. And it is lovely. Just lovely.”
“So, you’ll wear it?”
“Do I have a choice?” she laughed.
“You always have a choice, but I would love it if you wore it. I think you would look lovely,” he teased, tossing her words back at her.
It earned him a laugh. “Do you now… How can I say no when you just compared me to a Gwendolyn Brock design? You have a deal, Mr. Blackthorne.”
“I’ll swing by and pick you up at seven…” he started.
“No! I mean, I’ll meet you here…at the office. I…uh…have a lot of work to do, so…” She did have a lot of work to do, but really, she didn’t want him driving clear out to her place in Woodlawn, or he would figure out who and what she really was…a fraud.
“Okay...I’ll see you at seven. Lobby?” he asked.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said with a smile before hanging up.
No sooner did she do so, and her cell phone buzzed. It was a text from Nick.
So you have my cell phone number -Nick
She smiled, again – he seemed to have that effect on her – and texted back.
Thank you. How did you get my number?
It took him a few minutes to reply, and she found herself sitting there, staring at her phone, waiting like a giddy love-struck teenager when it finally buzzed.
Human Resources department gave it to me.
Of course, they did, she thought. And she was glad. Her creepy intruder was no longer creepy – he was intriguing – and although this was all temporary and not real, she was fond of the man. He was forward, bossy, clearly accustom to getting what he wanted, but there was something else about him. Something attractive and endearing. She didn’t know what, though, but she was going to find out. She fired back another playful text.
I think that’s illegal. They aren’t supposed to disclose employee information so freely.
Another long pause, but this time she worried that he misconstrued her message and was offended. She was getting ready to send a clarifying text, feeling a bit foolish, when her phone buzzed again – it was him.
I own the company. I have access to everything – good thing I’m not a psychopath stalker.
She laughed at his poking fun, even if it was a little off color, and sent him a single word response to sum up her thoughts.
Touché.
***
The day went on, but little to nothing got done. The dress hanging from the back of her door had her attention most of the afternoon. If she was being honest with herself, she was feeling a little self-conscious and intimidated by the dress…and the man who bought it for her. Looking down at her own clothing and taking a quick look in the compact mirror she kept in her desk drawer, she couldn’t help but feel a little plain and dowdy. Cori needed help, and fast. She grabbed her cell and dialed the one person she knew she could count on.
“James? It’s me…what are you doing today around four o’clock?”
His answer left her with an ear to ear grin. She would be ready for that dress tonight.
***
Hustling through the lobby, Cori could see James already waiting for her outside. When she left her apartment earlier in the day, she assumed she was appropriately dressed and her look was on point – until she saw the beauty in the garment bag, slung over her arm. There wouldn’t be time to get all the way home and back in time for her seven o’clock pick-up, but James had her covered. He had connections – knew people – from the theatre. That’s where they were headed for hair and makeup and a good dose of confidence.
When Nick saw Cori leaving early, he made his way to Tony’s security desk. “Any idea where she’s headed? Thought she was working late?”
“Don’t worry, kid. She’s not standin’ ya up,” Tony replied, picking up on Nick’s concern. “I bet she’s just getting ready for your big night. Don’t sweat it.”
“I’m not picking her up until seven.” He looked at his watch to make sure he had the time right. “It takes three hours to get ready?”
“Maybe she’s looking forward to your night out more than you thought?” Tony added, grinning at Nick’s concern. It was clear he was looking forward to it, too.
“Maybe…” Nick added, deep in thought, his words trailing off as he watched the black town car pull away.
“Ya know, peonies are her favorite,” Tony offered, catching Nick’s attention again.
“Peonies?”
Tony chuckled. “Flowers. She loooves the peonies.”
“Right! Flowers. Yes, peonies. Good to know.” Nick looked out the glass front again, watching the town car disappear in the distance, his mind hard at work on something. “Good talk, Tony. I’ll catch up with you later. I got…something to do.”
Nick quickly dialed his phone before walking off. Tony could hear him tell his assistant, Eve, to cancel the rest of his day as he walked outside the building on a mission.
“I hope he gets her the pink ones.” Tony chuckled.
***
Cori sat in a chair, staring at her own reflection, watching the transformation as James applied her makeup. He was as good at make up as he was acting, which made for a good back-up plan for him career wise and for her as a friend in desperate need of a spruced-up look. Trying to stay still, she couldn’t help but jump when a deep boisterous hello boomed, echoing throughout the room. Expecting a large man to round the corner, she was surprised to see it was a woman.
A tall, slender woman, in a white sequin gown, a feather boa, and platinum blonde hair that had to be three stories high, appeared in the reflection of the mirror. Her sashay and whip of her boa as she walked was full of confidence and poise as she headed right for Cori.
“Honey, how are you?” she asked James, leaning in to kiss each cheek before turning to Cori. “Darling, you must be Miss Cori. Aren’t you a cute little thing! Like a little pixie or somethin’. You just make me want to sprinkle glitter or somethin’”
Cori was fixated on the tower of a woman in front of her. She was sparkle head to toe and Cori was mesmerized by her poise, beauty, and rockin’ body in that form fitting gown. Her voice was deep and sultry, the bobbing adams apple made it clear why.
“Cori, this is my dear friend, now your dear friend, Devina Devine – star of the off, off Broadway production of Miss Thang – The life story of Rupaul, Supermodel. She is here to do something with that hair of yours,” James said, handing a brush to Devina.
“You’re…gorgeous!” was all Cori could get out, earning her a laugh from James and Devina.
“Call me Miss D, honey. You should see me without my face on, not so gorgeous…but I’m still pretty,” she teased. “I understand you have yourself a suga-daddy we need to fancy you up for.”
“No. Oh, my God, no. It’s not like that.” Panic set in. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to think she was using Nick for money when that was the furthest thing from the truth. She had no clue who he was when she grabbed him in the park and pulled him into her scheme.
“Calm down, baby. JJ here,” Devina nodded to James, “filled me in. I got the deets; it’s allll good. But if he has money, honey…it may behoove you to make him your suga somethin’.”
“I think it may behoove her to get a little somethin’ else from him that will make her scream daddy. He’s fine, girl.” Unashamed, James laid it out there. “Someone’s a little to uptight these days, and I think she needs a little woohoo in the yahoo! It’s been a looong dry spell for this one.”
Cori’s jaw dropped, mostly embarrassed by what her friend had just said. “I can’t believe you just said that, James. It hasn’t been that long!”
“Okay. Is the same President still in the White House since…last time?” Devina asked.
“Well…no.”
“Has there been more than one new iPhone model since…you know…then?” James asked.
“There’s been…two,” Cori said under her breath.
“Was the sweet baby Jesus…”
“Okay! Okay…I get it. It’s been a while. Can we just start with dinner, though, and I don’t know…getting to know each other first? I already need a drink, and dinner isn’t for two more hours,” Cori said, half-cocked, mostly because they were right, and because she was in absolute agreement that Nick would be a nice way to break her celibacy pact with herself. Too bad it wasn’t an option and double A batteries would have to do…for now.
“Look. This was all just a big ruse. One that was supposed to last ten minutes, and that’s it. Now, I’m going to dinner with my fake fiancé to get to know him better and plan the rest of a really childish scheme that honestly serves no purpose other than to pull off…a childish scheme. This is beneath me, definitely beneath him, and I assume beneath the two of you. I appreciate your help. I need it if I’m going to make sense in that dress over there, but let’s talk about something other than getting laid because I’m about to lose my ever-living shit over here.” The two nodding heads with sympathetic expressions suggested that perhaps they understood how stressed she really was. She got through to them in her mini breakdown; now she just had to get back through dinner and she could breathe again.
“I saw the dress hanging over there,” Miss. D said with her arms crossed, suddenly serious, studying Cori. “I know exactly what we need to do to get his motor hummin’, honey.”
“I’m doing the red lips, D,” James added, “If that doesn’t get him hummin’, then you and I have a better chance with him than this one does.”
And, they were back to getting her laid on the first date – classy – but she couldn’t help but laugh right along with them.
Not even an hour had past, and they were swatting her behind to a changing room to get into her dress. When she came out, Devina held out her hands, displaying a gorgeous pair of strappy high heels that wrapped up the ankle.
“Size seven, doll?” Devina asked.
“Uh, yeah. Good guess.”
“Here, these are from wardrobe. They were made for that dress,” Devina insisted, trying to give her the shoes.
“Oh, I can’t take those. The pair I’m wearing will work just fine, but thank you.” Cori looked at her shoes, extending a foot to get a good look at the black pair of heels she had on.
“No,” Devina said. “You leave on those shoes and the dress dies, honey. It isn’t fair to the dress…you can’t. I won’t let you. This isn’t a meeting in the boardroom. Those things on your feet say, let’s talk business. These beauties,” she said, holding up the pair of shoes in her hand, “these say…let’s get down to business, baby.”