@RonanFitz: So this is Twitter. Can’t say I’m impressed.

@Tomsouthernchef: @RonanFitz Oh, go drink some prune juice, Granddad.

 

 

*Ronan*

For the second time in the space of a week, I felt like kissing Joan, and it wasn’t because she was such a handsome specimen of a woman. Seemingly, she was becoming my very own fairy godmother; I wasn’t yet sure if this was her intention, but I’d roll with it anyway.

Annie had gone very, very quiet ever since Joan announced her misunderstanding that we’d planned and staged our earlier interactions, that we’d planned for Annie to pose as my fake girlfriend. Her worry was written all over her face. In a way, I could understand her obvious reluctance since I’d been sending her gifts all week, and she probably thought I was some sort of obsessive psycho.

I’ll admit I’d been coming on a bit strong, but I was in New York all alone and had a lot of time on my hands. For some reason, over the past few days my mind had kept wandering to Annie, hence the gifts. So yeah, it was a combination of boredom and spending way too much time thinking about her lips and that lush little body of hers. I wanted in, and my dick thought presents would be the way to get there. God, I could still taste her on my tongue, could still hear the tiny moans she made, the way her breathing stilted and became sexy little pants.

I could also still taste the bitterness of her rejection. It hadn’t just caught me off guard; it had pissed me off. She didn’t want to change; she said she liked hiding in her comfortable little world, and yet the way she kissed me said otherwise. Now all I could think about was rattling her cage.

We followed Joan into the conference room where Rachel and Ian were waiting. Rachel wore a big, encouraging smile while Ian’s face was schooled into an expression of grudging respect with a dash of cynicism. Perhaps he suspected those photos of me and Annie weren’t so much staged as they were perfectly real.

I sat down on a chair, and Annie took the one beside me. Her movements were slow and awkward like she was in a daze, and when she placed her hands in her lap, I could see that they were shaking. I didn’t like seeing her like this. I knew she was reeling from the fact that pictures of us shoving our tongues down each other’s throats were currently making the rounds on the World Wide Web. And now I wanted to kill the Internet just for making her feel that way. I’d always been protective of the females in my life, but this was coming on so quickly it was almost disconcerting.

Reaching over, I tried to take one of her hands in mine to soothe her, but she quickly pulled away. The glance she gave me was a very clear communication: No.

“So, we’re a little ahead of the game with this,” Joan began as she sat down at the table. “Brona’s story won’t be going live on this side of the world until this evening, and already the Internet is abuzz with these pictures. Everyone loves it when a celebrity starts dating a non-celeb. It gives them hope that it could one day happen to them. I swear, you two” —she paused and waggled her finger between me and Annie— “this was a stroke of pure genius. Annie, darling, I may need to give you a raise.”

“There’s no need for that, Joan,” Annie said softly. “In fact, about those pictures….”

“We’re very surprised how quickly they got online. Shocked the fuck out of me, pardon my French. We were only at the café twenty minutes ago,” I cut in, sensing that Annie had been about to confess everything.

“Yes, Mr. Fitzpatrick, the wonders of modern technology continue to astound and amaze,” Joan replied. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a touch of sarcasm in her voice. Then she clapped her hands together. “There’s lots to do, lots to do, but first, the uncomfortable part. I need to ask you a question, and you need to answer me honestly.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Go for it.”

“Is there any truth to your ex-fiancée’s claims? Or, I’ll put it more bluntly, did you ever beat your ex?”

Annie sucked in a shocked breath while Rachel and Ian stared on blandly. A knot of anger tightened in my stomach at being reminded of Brona’s most recent antics. Spending the morning with Annie had made me forget for a time, but now all the frustration and fury were easing their way back in.

“No, there’s no truth to her claims, Joan.”

“So you were never violent with her?”

I tightened my jaw and flexed my hands. “No.”

“Well, I’d like to say I’m surprised, but sadly there are a lot of ambitious sycophants out there with dark and vivid imaginations, imaginations that allow them to dream up all kinds of titillating stories. Unfortunately, the press eats these stories up like cockroaches at a restaurant in New Jersey.”

I winced both at her analogy and also at the fact that, well, in a way I was lying. Don’t get me wrong—I never once lifted a hand to Brona in physical violence—but I suspected where her story was coming from. And, quite frankly, if she did have proof, then I was well and truly fucked. I could actually feel myself sweating just thinking about it.

Joan was still talking about strategies, and I was staring at Annie, trying to gauge how she was reacting to all this. I felt certain she would not be pleased about being my girlfriend—pretend or otherwise. Only a half hour ago, she was quite fervent in proclaiming that she didn’t want a relationship with me. That she was too messed up.

“So what do you think, Annie?” Joan asked as she came to the end of her spiel.

“I….” Annie began hesitantly and cleared her throat. “Of course, yes. I’m so pleased to help.”

At her words, I felt electricity shoot through me. She wanted to give this a go? I wanted to high-five the fuck out of myself then do a victory dance. But I didn’t, because, you know, manly.

“Well, obviously. You did come up with it, didn’t you?” said Ian with a derisive chuckle and a hint of impatience. I didn’t like his tone. In fact, it made me want to smack the prick.

Annie swallowed. Ian’s comment had clearly made her even more anxious than she already was. Without thinking, I put my hand softly on her thigh beneath the table; surprisingly, it seemed to calm her. At least her hands stopped shaking.

She continued, her voice still quiet but with a flat matter-of-factness, “I match the majority of the criteria, and my past makes up for any deficiencies in physical appearance. I’ll be a sympathetic figure with the public.”

I couldn’t help but give her face and body a quick up-down-sweep, nor did I try to stop my single-eyebrow raise. Deficiencies in physical appearance? She must not own a mirror or be at all aware of the wolfish stares that followed her around the street…and the office.

And what was this about her past making her a sympathetic figure?

“Oh, don’t be so modest,” said Joan. “You match all of the criteria. Now what we have to do is continue to have you both seen in public. A romantic rendezvous here, a stolen glance there, perhaps a passionate clinch or two along the way, and you’re all set. I’m taking it you both possess the acting skills to pull this off.”

Annie quietly nodded, and I grinned at her, running my hand down her thigh and squeezing her knee before letting go. I knew for a fact that neither one of us needed acting skills. Hell, the sexual tension between us could almost be considered another entity, it was so thick. Every time I looked at her, all I wanted to do was bury my face in her neck and lose my hand up her skirt.

The fact that she was now wearing clothes that highlighted her supple figure, rather than disguised it, made not touching her that much more difficult. Then I remembered the reason why she was dressing this way, and I frowned. I needed to have a word with Joan.

Thankfully, the meeting was brief, and while I’d been scanning Annie’s body, everyone stood to leave. Annie was the first one out of her seat. I caught her by the elbow before she could escape and murmured in her ear.

“Don’t leave without me.”

All she did was nod and then hurry out. Once Rachel and Ian were gone, I told Joan I’d walk her back to her office. She seemed surprised but walked with me anyway.

“First off, I’d like to thank you for being on the ball with this. It might be hard to believe, but when I first met Brona, she was actually quite a sweet girl. A little dim, yes, but still sweet. Then things began picking up with my career, she got a couple modeling jobs, and all of a sudden fame was the crack in her crack pipe. Nowadays she’ll do anything for a bit of attention.”

“I’m well acquainted with the likes of Brona O’Shea,” said Joan, giving me an understanding look. “You don’t need to explain her behavior to me.”

“I appreciate that,” I went on. “Annie’s a sweet girl, too. She’s not dim like Brona—”

“No. She’s bright like the sun,” Joan cut in, giving me a sharp smile. “Don’t underestimate her, Mr. Fitzpatrick. Annie is highly intelligent.”

I raised an eyebrow at this interruption but continued my thought, “She is also extremely timid and vulnerable to being taken advantage of. Understand, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your business, Joan, but I will tell you upfront that it doesn’t sit right with me how you’ve been treating her.”

We’d just reached the door to her office when she stopped and looked up at me, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Pardon?”

“You’ve been telling Annie she needs to dress differently. More sexy, or whatever the fuck, and I don’t like it. You don’t have to remind me that she’s incredibly intelligent and amazing at her job, and you don’t need to capitalize on her beauty just to make clients more amenable. It’s sexism in the workplace, pure and simple.”

Joan blinked at me, was silent for a beat, and then let out a yip of laughter. “First of all, I would never mandate that my employees dress ‘more sexy,’ as you state. That would be highly inappropriate. I reminded Annie that we have a dress code and then saved her the time of having to shop for it by purchasing a wardrobe for her. All the outfits are stylish, tasteful, business casual, and high quality. Nothing about Annie’s new clothes is meant to tantalize, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

I scoffed, curling my lip, my disbelief of this last bit plain on my face.

Still, Joan continued, “I’m very fond of that girl, but she’s been living in a shell; and I’m just doing my bit to help her out of it. So if you feel the need to protect her, you have nothing to fear from me. I want to protect her just as much as you, if not more so.”

Well, that put me in my place. I didn’t know what to say right then, so I simply furrowed my brow, cleared my throat, and gave her a gruff, “It’s good we’re on the same page, then.”

“Yes, very good,” said Joan, opening the door to her office and walking in. “Until next we meet, Mr. Fitzpatrick.”

Turning on my heel, I went in search of Annie’s office and found her drinking a cup of tea and chatting quietly with her assistant, Gerta. I stood in the doorway for a moment, watching her as she set the tea down, then bent to open a drawer, and fished out some folders. I might have been a little mesmerized for a moment as I took in the sight of her shapely backside. It was incredible. I just wanted spank it and bite it and worship it and completely fucking defile it.

Gerta was the one to see me first, smiling at me wide and friendly. “Oh, Ronan, I didn’t see you there. Is there anything we can help you with?”

Gerta and I had become well acquainted over the phone after I made a point to apologize for jerking her around last week, thus the familiarity of her addressing me by my first name. In fact, I’d been purposefully using charm to win her over. I needed her on my side in the Annie v. Ronan phone-call-avoiding wars. Annie quickly stood and spun around, looking a little frazzled as she tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yes, I was actually wondering if I could have a moment alone with your boss,” I said, eyes leveled on Annie.

“Of course,” Gerta began, getting up from her seat, but Annie stayed her with a hand.

“It’s okay, Gerta. I was just about to head home anyway. Mr. Fitzpatrick can walk me out.”

The way she emphasized addressing me formally made me want to grin. I thought that maybe, just maybe, my Annie was getting a touch territorial and didn’t like the camaraderie Gerta and I had struck up.

She stuffed the files in her handbag, slung it over her shoulder, and led the way out of the office. All the way to the elevators, she kept at least a foot of space between us. It made my inner predator growl with satisfaction to know she felt the need to distance herself for fear of what might happen. I prayed for an empty lift, and someone answered that prayer because when we stepped inside, there was no one else. I stood close beside her as she hit the button for the ground floor.

“So, looks like we’ll be spending a lot more time together, baby.” I grinned and tilted my head down at her.

She scrunched up her face. “Don’t call me that.”

“What?” I winked. “We’re a couple now. Couples give each other all sorts of nicknames.”

“Not all couples do that. And if you’ve forgotten, we’re a fake couple, so there’s no need for nicknames.”

She was all stoic and together now, nothing like the Annie of this morning. The one who snorted and laughed with me, the one who made my heart stop when she smiled.

“Damn, I was looking forward to your calling me puddinchops,” I joked, trying to break down her barrier. It worked a little because I saw her lips twitch in a smile.

“Christ, that’s awful,” she replied with a little shudder.

I nudged her with my shoulder. “What would you suggest, then?”

“I already told you that I quite like Mother Fitzpatrick,” she reluctantly teased.

“Oh, fuck no. That’s not happening,” I said and let my voice drop as I moved closer so that our arms were touching. “Though I won’t object to your calling me Daddy.”

Her eyes got really big then, and I burst out laughing. “I’m joking, Annie; relax. I’m joking.”

We were stepping out of the lift when she exhaled, “Thank God.”

“I know.” I chuckled. “I think I might have even creeped myself out with that one.”

When she looked at me then, there was a smile on her lips, and I thought I saw genuine fondness in her eyes. Beyond the lobby, I could see that the streets were absolutely crowded, and I remembered it was St. Patrick’s Day. I wasn’t crazy about crowds, and when I saw Annie looking nervous, I could tell that she liked them even less than I did.

Placing a hand on her lower back, I said, “Hey, I was thinking of taking a drive today. Get out of the city until all the festivities are over. You want to come?”

“You want to go for a drive…in your car…with me?” she asked, swallowing.

“Sure,” I said. She hesitated, and I guessed she was struggling because of the line she’d drawn between us while we were at the bakery. So I tried to ease her concerns while also attempting to encourage her to say yes. “Listen, no hard feelings about earlier, about what you said in the bakery. I heard you loud and clear. But this…no need for things to be tense between us. This can be our first fake date as a fake couple. I might even take a picture and post it to Instagram.”

It was too bloody cute when her eyes practically lit up that I’d mentioned Instagram and actually knew what it was used for.

“You’ve been studying the material I sent you?”

I gave her a sincere look, hoping she got the double meaning. “I’d do anything you asked of me, Annie.”

It took a while for her to reply. Her eyes lost focus as they moved between mine, and when she spoke she sounded a little dazed and a little afraid. “I guess going for a drive could be productive…?”

“Don’t sound so frightened.” I laughed. “I’m not a maniac; and besides, there’ll probably be paparazzi following us, so I won’t be able to try anything too crazy.”

As soon as we stepped out onto the crowded street, the lack of space seemed to stress her out because she was breathing agitatedly. I moved my hand from her back and pulled her close, keeping my arm around her shoulders like a barrier.

“Got a touch of claustrophobia?” I asked, guessing.

She nodded, pressing herself to me. I enjoyed how her soft curves fit against my body, how she felt under my hands.

“Just a touch,” she admitted.

“I won’t let anyone get to you, okay? You stay close, and we’ll be fine. Is there any point hailing a cab, or will it be quicker walking?”

“Quicker walking,” she said sharply, and it seemed she was having trouble getting the words out.

Soothingly, I kept rubbing my thumb back and forth over her shoulder.

“Deep breaths, yeah?” I said, coaching her.

She breathed in deeply and nodded. “Yeah.”

It took a while for us to get to my apartment building, and we walked in silence. I even had to sweet-talk a female cop into letting us jump a barrier blocking one side of the street from the other. When Annie pulled herself up on the bars and climbed over, I had to work not to openly stare at how her dress rose, revealing her shapely thighs.

By the time we got to my place, I needed to have lunch. Going to change out of my stained shirt, I told Annie to take a look around if she wanted and help herself to the food in the fridge. She said she wasn’t hungry and seemed content to wander through the penthouse. I knocked back a protein shake and then shoveled down the salad and cold cuts I’d prepared earlier this morning. I was just eating the last bites when Annie pulled up a stool next to me.

“I think I’d die of boredom if I had to eat what you eat every day. I’ve just been looking in your fridge, and there isn’t a single dessert in sight.”

I shrugged and pushed my plate away. “You get used to it. Well, okay, sometimes it’s a struggle; but mostly the sugars get flushed from your system, and you stop craving them all the time.” I paused and looked her over. “So, this drive we’re taking, you got any suggestions on where we could go?”

Her eyes met mine then darted away, her cheeks blushing pink. She laughed softly, but I detected a note of anxiety. “Let’s just try to get out of the city first. If we even manage that, then we’ll decide.”