Page 28 of Big & Bossy
She leaned forward, her too-happy face less than a foot from mine. “You’re right. I didn’t and still don’t trust people. But you shoved the knife further in and fucking twisted it when you came back into my life.”
“At least I’m bringing profit to your failing business,” I snapped, regretting the jab as soon as it left my lips.
“Fuck you, Jack.”
“Not unless you beg.”
“Real mature.”
“Don’t be a prude, Mandy,” I spat, chuckling as her happy mask broke a little. She glared at me, the mask breaking even more, and fuck she’d always looked so sexy when she was angry. And with her this close… “You showed me earlier there’s still a part of you that wants that.”
“We were practicing.”
“For what? When we’re alone? Grow up and admit you liked it,” I hissed, leaning even closer, enough that I could smell the hint of champagne on her breath. “You liked when I kissed you. You came to life in my arms. Just admit it, Miranda.”
Her lips parted as her eyes flicked back and forth between mine, her breathing just a little too rough, too heavy. Having her so close, with that stupid half-happy, half-angry expression and that satin black dress, was too much. She was too much. She’d always been too much for me.
I wanted to take her right there on the fucking table.
“Why did you leave?”
It hit me like a bucket of cold water. I recoiled, pulling away from her, dropping my mask entirely. I wasn’t expecting that, didn’t want to talk about it. “It doesn’t matter,” I breathed, knocking back the rest of my glass of champagne before filling it too full so that it spilled.
It was the wrong answer. She leaned back in her chair, every trace of emotion gone from her features. The waiter came with our first courses, and not a word was said. She was drawing in on herself, cocooning, and I needed to say something, anything. Is this what you were like when it happened?
“Even if I tell you,” I started, unable to watch her any longer as she folded into herself, “it’s not like you’ll understand, Mandy. All you need to know is that I did it for you.”
————
Mandy picked at her cheesecake as she stole little glimpses at me. She could try to pretend that she hated me as much as she wanted, could pretend like I meant nothing to her anymore, but I knew deep down there was still something there, still a spark.
Dinner went by in silence, not a peep from either of us between our argument and dessert. We ate, we sipped, and we pretended like the other didn’t exist. I needed this night to go smoothly, I needed the press to have something to talk about other than our complete, awkward silence. I needed to initiate phase two. I was already planning on doing it tonight and our current state proved that it was more important now than ever.
Without saying a word, I slid my arm around Mandy’s waist, pulling her and her chair closer. She flinched, her eyes locking with mine for the first time in nearly an hour as she did her best to disguise her confusion.
“What are you doing?” She asked, her body instinctively leaning away from me. I pulled her back.
“Phase two,” I mumbled, placing a small kiss on her temple. She flinched again.
“Jack, please, I can pretend to like you right now but I’m just not in the mood to be close?—”
“Come here,” I snapped, painting a smile on my face as I looked down at her, “or I’ll make you.”
Her eyes went wide, her brows furrowed as she struggled to keep that mask in place. I kicked my chair out from under me, dropping down on one knee in front of her, and releasing her waist to search through my pocket instead. “Jack, what the fuck?—”
“Smile, princess,” I hissed. I pulled the little wooden box from my pocket, flipping it open so she could see the ring sitting atop a bed of moss. “They’re watching.”
Chapter 14
Mandy
Icouldn’t say that I hated everything about our dinner together. There were moments that felt real, moments that flowed easily as if there hadn’t been ten years of separation between us. But there had also been moments where I wanted to die, where I wanted to climb inside of myself and never crawl out.
I twirled the ring on my finger absentmindedly. It was, annoyingly, exactly the kind of ring I would want. A rose gold band, molded to look as though it was made of twigs and wood, little leaves surrounding the dusty olive musgravite stone. I’d never wanted a diamond, and the rarity of this made me wonder just how much he’d forked out for it. It looked like nature, like home, and it was absolutely something I wanted to wear for a lifetime.
Not that I would be.
I wasn’t expecting a proposal last night. I knew our deal included a fake engagement, but every part of me wished he’d warned me in advance. It was hard enough being in front of the press for an extended period of time, pretending that I was enjoying our dinner together, but having to fake my excitement for something I’d once dreamed about but now loathed? It was awful, gut-wrenching. I hated it. Faking liking him was hard enough on its own, but faking being in love, accepting a proposal… it was too much. Especially when half the time I just wanted to strangle him.
