Page 6 of Hunter

“Mr Hunter, is it really necessary for me to have to have dinner with him?”

Louisa fidgets in the seat of my car; I can appreciate that she is extremely nervous. To be fair, Trent wasn’t exactly complimentary toward her yesterday.

“Louisa, if we’re going to sell this relationship, it’s important you get to know each other,” I reply as softly as I can. “I know he’s an ass, Louisa, but I will be there to intervene if necessary. Not that it will be.”

“I understand, but this restaurant is a bit more formal than what I’m used to,” she says before placing her forefinger inside her mouth to begin chewing anxiously.

On instinct, I do something I vowed I would never do; I tap her hand away from her face. My mother used to do the exact same thing to me when I was a small boy. I’m expecting her to snap at me, to demand I take her back to the office, for I did just overstep my boundaries. Strangely, she accepts it without comment. Instead, she starts tapping her hand against her knee while watching the scenery fly by. It’s only then that I notice her attire, the same sort of clothing she wears at the office, and how inappropriate it is to wear such thick fabric on a day like today. I’ve removed my jacket and tie already due to the heat, yet she seems completely at ease with being covered up from head to toe. I want to comment on it, but instead, I decide to try and help her feel more at ease.

“What are you used to when you go on a date?” I ask, trying to gauge what I should arrange when setting her up to be photographed with Trent. She simply shrugs and says nothing. In fact, her lack of reaction has me wondering if she’s ever been on a date. “Don’t be nervous, Louisa, you’re doing him the favor, right?”

“Yes,” she says as if only half paying attention. “I could see he really appreciated the sacrifice I was making.”

“Well, we might have to ‘vamp’ you up a bit,” I suggest, but the way she whips her head around to face me, has me feeling like I instantly want to shove the words back inside of my mouth. This is the Louisa who stood up to me yesterday.

“Is there a problem with the way I dress, Mr Hunter?” she asks curtly.

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant,” I lie, “it’s just Trent is an A-lister. We need to make this thing look believable and the type of person he would be linked with would have stylists and whatnot.” Her continued glaring is making me feel as I did as a child when being lectured about something insanely stupid I’d done. “Honestly, I wasn’t trying to offend you.”

She doesn’t respond, and after a while, she shrugs and returns to staring out the window. After that reaction, I decide it might be best to stay in uncomfortable silence

_____

When we enter the small, high-end restaurant, I’m surprised to see Trent, RIP, and his father are already there. I half expected Trent to keep us waiting for an hour or so, but it would seem he’s been suitably forced into submission by his father. Trent still looks as though he’s dressed to go to a frat party, but his outfit is at least more befitting for his age. His dark jeans cover his sprawled-out legs, and his plain, white T-shirt stretches across his muscular physique. The waitress lingers a little too long when she hands him his drink, even though he doesn’t even spare her a glance.

Louisa, who has so far, only smiled in greeting, saying no words to either me or them, rolls her eyes when she thinks no one is looking. I can’t help smirking to myself as I witness this rare rebellious side, now knowing she has some fire in her.

“I just want to say thank you, my dear, thank you for agreeing to do this,” Trent’s father says softly, if not a little condescendingly, to Louisa.

She fakes a smile, then looks at me as if to warn me that she is having doubts.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Trent declares, rudely gesturing toward Louisa before waving his hand up and down her outfit. “I’ve never gone remotely near someone like this.”

“My name is Louisa,” she says, “and I have more than a modicum of intelligence, so of course you’ve never been near someone like me.”

This is when I feel myself having to bite my lips together to stop a full-blown laugh from escaping. Even RIP quirks his lips before looking to the floor, sorting himself out, and then looking up with his usual expressionless face. Trent smiles: she’s sparked his interest a little.

“Oh, I could have you if I wanted to, sweetheart!”

“Mr Matthews please don’t chase away the only hope you have right now,” I warn him. “Louisa is doing this as a favor to me and I will not have you disrespecting her.”

The asshole leans back and releases a heavy sigh before muttering a string of expletives under his breath.

“Louisa, we may need to dress you a little differently, but nothing that is outside of your comfort zone,” I admit, with Trent nodding his head obnoxiously. “We’re going to say you two met on holiday, right after Trent came out of rehab. We can set up a fake paper trail so if anyone looks into it, they will see that you were both at a particular resort at the same time,” I explain, which fortunately seems to silence them both, as well as make Trent’s father happy.

“What about him?” Louisa asks, jutting her chin out toward Trent. “I refuse to go out with someone who dresses like a jungle cat dressed in leather.”

“That’s a fair point,” I reply with a grin all the while Trent drops his mouth open in shock. “I will be taking Trent to my personal tailor when we have finished here.”

“Good,” she says at the same time as Trent begins frowning over the direction of this conversation. I’m sure he’s not used to girls speaking about him in this way.

“Now, I’m going to have your relationship leaked to the press. After that, you two will need to be seen out in public looking ‘loved up’. Trent, you will need to look like you are the perfect gentleman, while Louisa will need to look totally smitten with you. There is a music festival taking place next weekend; I am going to get my hands on some tickets so both of you can attend. RIP will go with you, and I will be close by to keep an eye on things.”

The rest of lunch isn’t exactly pleasant, what with Louisa and Trent avoiding eye contact and his father trying to force neutral conversation with me. Looking at her reaction to this situation, with her nervous arm scratching and sighing every few minutes, made me feel guilty for dragging her through all this. Though, there’s no denying that she looks and behaves the part. Her manners are impeccable throughout dinner, and she is nothing but polite to Trent’s father. I’ll ignore the fact that I think she’s pretending Trent isn’t there to get through lunch; I’ll just have to work on that major point later.

When the meal is finished, I give Louisa the car keys so she can return to the office. I’m heading straight over to my family’s tailor with Trent so we can work on his new image.

“You may as well take my phone, Louisa,” I tell her as I hand over my cell which she places straight inside her bag. “George doesn’t allow any kind of cameras inside his shop.”

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