“Because unlike you, who only told me you had a random hook-up outside the club,hehas been recounting every detail of your encounter to Jackson daily. Except for your name, Jackson would have known it was you immediately,Bianca. Good luck with that—you got yourself in a pickle.”
Her attention slides to the guys, and a smile lights up her face. Sensing I’ve lost her attention, I poke her arm. “What pickle? Why is there a pickle? Ginny, look at me and tell me about the pickle!”
“Go talk to Tripp. I’ll find you in a little bit.” She walks away before I can respond, following Jackson, who has also abandoned Tripp at the bar.
Sucking up my pride, I walk over to him slowly, smoothing the pleated detailing of my black dress as I pull my hair over one shoulder. When I’m right behind him, I clear my throat. “So, Tripp, is it? Kinda crazy that our best friends are getting married.”
He turns and leans against the bar, dragging his eyes down my body again and saying flatly, “Did you already forget,babe? So are we.”
At my puzzled expression, he continues, “Emily told her parents, who toldmyparents that we are engaged. I’ve been trying to figure out who you are all week so that you can help me continue our little charade,Lenni.”
Hold the phone.
What?
“It’s Valentina. Only my friends call me Lenni. And what do you mean, carry on the charade?”
Tripp is looking at me like he’s torn between wanting to strangle me or rip my dress off and fuck me on the top of the bar. Discreetly, I cross my legs as I lean next to him, his intense gaze making my lower body clench with want.
“Well, Iwasplanning on asking you nicely to do me a solid and pretend like we are actually engaged for a little while. But seeing as how we’re going to be spending a lot of time in each other’s company, I don’t really think you have much of a choice. Jackson loves being in the tabloids. We’re bound to be photographed together with the wedding coming up. So, name your price. What will it take to get you to pretend to be engaged to me for a little while?” He takes a step closer, crowding me against the bar.
Trying to look affronted at the notion of being bought, I scoff, “What if I’m already seeing someone?”
His answering grin melts my fortitude as his hand finds my waist. Lowering his head to my ear, he whispers, “If you were seeing someone, you wouldn’t have ridden my cock last week like your life depended on it.”
Tripp skims his lips against the column of my neck, causing me to suck in a sharp breath and look around to make sure no one is paying us any attention. When his other hand finds the small of my back, he jerks me into him, causing me to grab his arms to balance myself in my stilettos.
“And if youareseeing someone, and still went home with me, then I don’t want to be friends with you, even if our best friends are getting married. I don’t like cheaters, and I don’t like liars. And yes, I’m well aware of how ironic that is, given that I’m asking you to lie to a bunch of people about the status of our relationship.”
He pulls back until our lips are mere inches apart. “So, I’ll ask again, what’s your price, Viv?”
My chest burns, brushing against his as I take short breaths, the air between us thick with tension. Staring at his lips, I whisper, “It’sValentina.”
“I know what your name is…now.But isn’t that the main character's name inPretty Woman? Vivian?”
My cheeks grow warm as my eyes widen slightly. “Yeah.”
Tripp’s lips move to my ear again. “Well, we’ve crossed clothes shopping and getting your pussy licked on top of a piano off the list. I can arrangepayments to start tomorrow. Unless you want to go another round tonight?”
Memories of last Thursday flash through my mind, and I unwittingly tighten my hold on him. He makes an amused sound as he pulls back again to look at me before dropping his eyes to my lips. “Smile for the camera, baby.”
Suddenly, his lips are on mine, warm and inviting, and his minty orange scent invades my senses. Tripp doesn’t kiss me chastely as a few camera flashes go off. He kisses me with the same passion as he did on the sidewalk in front of Jean-Georges.
Someone whistles, and a few people laugh while others begin to murmur their distaste at our antics. When Tripp pulls back, he has a smile on his face.
I hate that I can’t tell if it’s for me or just for the people watching.
“So, what do you say?” he asks lowly.
A million different thoughts run through my head, yet at the same time, my mind draws a blank. It’s like turning off a TV after watching the black and whiteantswar with each other after a program has ended and broadcasting has gone off the air.
“I have to go to work.”
Dazed, I let go of him, turning to head toward the exit. There’s no sign of Ginny and Jackson anywhere, and I don’t think she’ll mind me leaving without saying goodbye, given the circumstances.
Prince Charming wants to buy me.
He seems more interested in carrying on our lie than he does inme.