C.J. Lockhartの小説

Mira woke up. She could still taste the champagne she didn't finish last night.And the kiss she very much had.She laid in bed for a full ten minutes, trying not to think about last night and failing miserably. She remembered the charity dinner. The string quartet.Most of all, she remembers Adrian's hand finding hers under the countdown of music neither of them realized.On the way home, she kept telling herself it was adrenaline. The dangers of being so near each other.She didn't believe herself one bit.She started to make coffee, but her phone buzzing beat her to the punch. It was Adrian, a single line:"Are you alright?"He didn't ask are we okay. Not even what does this mean.It was Adrian asking her, just her. First, before anything else."I'm fine." She started typing it into her phone but decided to delete it. She then typed:"I'm still deciding if we broke clause nine or completely obliterated it..."His reply came in so fast that she could imagine him smiling at his phone

Their photo ran everywhere by Monday.COLE'S HEART (AND HIS STOCK) ARE BOTH RISING — Insiders Say This Wedding Planner Has Him Completely SmittenMira choked on her coffee while reading the headline. Bea called her within the hour."Congratulations, you're famous.""I'm a contractor.""Not according to Twitter."Adrian's stock climbed four points by noon. This was more than the entire "engineered gala" planned to recover in the first place.Because of this, Adrian's PR team wanted a second appearance. A charity dinner. In two weeks.Adrian called Mira that night. His tone and voice were careful, a little too careful."It worked. Much better than anyone expected.""Congratulations. Your stock is recovering. And apparently I'm your girlfriend according to three different gossip sites.""I noticed. I'm sorry.""Don't be. It's the job," Mira said. A little too fast, and they both heard it."Is it?" Adrian paused longer than usual. "That moment on the terrace, Mira, it didn't feel like a j

The gala felt like hitting a wall with all the noise, lights and a hundred eyes doing the math as soon as she and Adrian entered."Smile. Don't stay too long at the bar. Don't let your glass go empty or else someone will refill that with more champagne and their opinion about the evening."This was Mira's mental note that she kept repeating for the evening."You're really good at that, you know?" Adrian murmured against her ear. His hand was warm at the small of her back."Good at what?""Reading the room. Like you already know where everyone should be seated and grouped.""Sorry, force of habit."Mira saw a board member intently watching them from across the room. The way he stared at them was how someone would be doing the math to a contract deal."That one thinks I'm after your money.""He's not often wrong."Adrian moved with Mira in the direction of the man instead of steering away."Harold," Adrian addressed the man. "This is Mira Santos, she's the reason why I have not unravele

The courier brought the contract the next day, thick as a novel and twice as humorless.Clause 4: No discussing past relationshipsClause 7: Pre-approved dinner topics attached in Appendix C.Clause 8: Forty-eight hours exit clause. No penalty, no explanation required.Mira was glad that clause was in the contract. She had to read that twice, it oddly gave her a sense of relief. That she had an out even though she had no plans of using it.Clause 9 ……..Mira read that clause three times…Hand-holding is permitted for photographic purposes only. No other contact may ensue without separate written consent.Mira called Adrian."Clause nine," she immediately said the second he picked up the phone."Problem already with the terms?""You have a legal clause about hand-holding?""I have a legal clause about everything.""That wasn't a no.""It wasn't a yes, either." There was a pause on the line, the sound of slow pacing could be heard on his end of the line."Is it excessive?""It's thoroug

Three months earlier."No! Absolutely not!"This was Mira slamming her coffee down, the lid popped off. Coffee exploded all over Bea's blueprints. The result looked like a crime scene.Despite Mira's outburst, Bea didn't flinch."Mira, it's just one dinner.""With your ex-fiancé.""With Adrian, one dinner and a gala." Bea's voice didn't even crack.The problem was that it should have."He needs a date. It's for the Calloway Group Gala. He wants someone who won't sell photos to the tabloids.""So just hire a stranger.""He wants you." Bea said in a strange way.Her face slowly turned into something complicated that Mira didn't have time to analyze."He wants someone who won't fall for him."Mira's laugh was loud, disbelieving that their Tuesday had turned to this."That's your pitch?""That's my pitch."The silence was so sharp it could cut the tension between the two friends."Bea, we've been friends for eleven years," Mira said. "With everything we went through in those eleven years,

"Dearly beloved," the officiant said solemnly.Everybody was looking at the bride and groom expectantly and these two words were spoken. As if anticipating something to go wrong.And it did…Three months ago this had all been a contract, it was just a job. A fake dinner and a gala, that was it. Nothing more."If anyone objects to this union," the officiant continued."Speak now, or forever hold your peace."Silence.Mira had planned two hundred and eleven weddings. She never thought she would plan hers and least of all have hers crumble to pieces.Why did her hands feel like ice now? Her dress was perfect. The venue was perfect. Adrian stood at the altar in a black tux, looking like a fantasy she used to plan for other people but never for herself.Mira remembered the night on the terrace, a kiss she didn't mean until everything stopped being fake?Had it?Was any of this ever fully real? Or was she so good at making fake happiness for other people that she convinced herself that her