Page 32 of The Fake Dating Plan

“It’s the biggest night I will ever attend and probably the largest publicity our pieces are ever going to get.

“I don’t mean about the Gala. I’m referring to you wearing this,” he said.

“Our bestselling piece?” I knew what he meant. He was talking about Ax and me wearing something meant as a personal diss to him.

“By all means, act oblivious. I’m sure that’ll help.”

“I don’t think he would mind.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

After the fairy godmothers were done, they all went away, leaving me with Dylan. A few moments later, there was a knocked on the door. Dylan opened it since I was too busy trying to adjust my train so I wouldn’t step on it, and when I looked up, Ax was standing in front of me, looking dazzling in a black tuxedo. He kept staring at me for a while, making me feel uncomfortable. It was too much. It had to be. I probably looked overdone and garish and very much unlike his model/actress girlfriends. My hand went to the necklace and wondered if it didn’t go with the dress, unlike what I had thought. Why did I doubt myself whenever he was concerned?

“That bad, huh?”

He cleared his throat. “You look stunning.” His voice sounded strained and hoarse. Dylan, who stood behind him, pointed to Ax, then to me, and inserted his index finger into his open fist, back and forth. The universal sign of fucking.

I rolled my eyes. Sure whatever.

“Should we go?” I said.

Ax nodded and took my arm.

The gala was exactly what I expected, and not what I expected. Anyone who was anyone in the fashion industry was present, including some celebrities. A press corps greeted us after the red-carpet walk. We had to do the interviews. It felt like everyone was interviewing everyone. They were all short, about thirty to sixty seconds each, but I felt nervous the entire time. Doing an interview with your idol on one side and your ex-boyfriend on the other did that to you.

Ax was a calming presence and I would look for ques whenever I was unsure of what to do next, until one reporter asked, “The necklace you’re wearing is your bestseller. You call itthe Axe can suck it. Tell me what led to the inspiration of such a beautiful necklace and where the name came from?”

I could feel the vibration coming from Ax. I glanced at him. If he heard the question, he didn’t show it. He kept his gaze squarely on the person interviewing him. I turned to the reporter. “An ex-boyfriend of mine inspired me. I designed this necklace while I was getting over a pretty nasty breakup. The two interlocking snakes represent my conflicting feelings about him.”

“So you turned your pain into profit,” the woman said.

“I guess you could say so.”

After we left the cadre of journalists, Ax, with his hand behind my arm, said, “Interesting how you left the part out about you being the cause of the breakup. That I was the one who was hurt by you.”

“So you were listening.”

“We were literally standing side by side.”

“Your dating habits of that time say the opposite. Didn’t you go out with Jennifer Sans a few days after? Hardly the behavior of someone who was hurt.”

I felt his hand behind my back tighten. “I’m surprised you remember. I had forgotten about her.”

I was about to give him a retort when Marco came, cutting off our conversation, and took me so I could have photos taken together with him. Ax stood to the side, but I could feel his blazing stare on me.

“Whatever happened between you two?” Marco asked.

“What do you mean?”

He nodded towards Ax. “He looks like he wants to fuck you and kill you, but he’s not sure which.”

You have no idea, I thought.

The desire to fuck Emilia was five-fold when I saw her in that beautiful dress that made her look like Aphrodite incarnate. All of my thoughts flew out of my head. It only increased tenfold after the red-carpet walk. Her audacious, sad, probably not true story about the necklace didn’t dampen my desire. It only flared it up. Here she was, lying through her teeth about how we broke up and all I could think of was how hot the sex was between us. She was a great lover, and responsive. How bad would it be to revisit that time again? When she came back to my side, I couldn’t help not having my eyes on her. Even as we entered the gallery with all the other guests to view the art exhibitions, the only work of art my eyes wanted to see was her.

As my eyes were on her beautifully shaped behind that had been made prominent by her dress. While she strolled in front of me, her attention was on a fifteenth-century crown that caught her eye.

“You should fuck and get it over with.” I turned to see Marco standing beside me. He had a glass of wine in one hand and a canape in another.

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