“I want to keep you.” Exactly what Gabby said. Oh, my God.
I let defiance drip into my tone. “I’m a person, not something to be kept.”
“You misunderstand me,” Luca says. “I want you to be mine for longer than one week.”
Replying in a rush, I say, “You hired me. I’ll be around for as long as you’ll pay me.”
His smile reaches his eyes. “You’re still misunderstanding.”
Sighing, I glance away. “I’m not. I know what you mean. It’s hard to believe, that is all. With what you do, I don’t see how it’s possible to have anything resembling a real relationship for more than this… vacation.” I pull away from him and walk toward the setting sun, shin-deep in the blue waters. “Your life and mine aren’t compatible.”
The lump in my throat rages.
“You can work anywhere, right? I’d say our lives are more than compatible, I’d call them aligned.”
“Leaving my family isn’t an option.”
He sighs. “You went on the internet looking for men to pretend to be your partner so they wouldn’t judge you harshly and you’re worried about leaving them. You’re making excuses for not wanting to break patterns and habits.”
I spin to look at him. I see security guards standing way off in the distance. It’s easy to forget we’re almost always being watched while we’re outdoors. “I have a confession,” I breathe.
Luca nods. “Lay it on me.”
“When I posted the ad, I didn’t post it to try to find someone who would pretend to be my boyfriend. It was an actual attempt at finding someone I could be with. Something real and long term.” It was easier to let him assume it was sex for a week in exchange for Christmas with me. “Maybe I am making excuses.” I pull my hair nervously back into a ponytail. “I’ve been single so long that I can’t settle for sharing with other women. As progressive and accepting as I deem myself, I’m not that strong, Luca. You wouldn’t like jealous Lizzy.”
“Are you telling me no?” His question rattles me. “That this ends after Christmas?”
“I’m not sure what I’m saying.”
“Are you happy?” he slings.
I open my eyes wide. “Of course. But this isn’t sustainable. What do we have outside of sexual chemistry?”
“I’m just a good fuck.” His neck works as he swallows, and I regret my word choice. “Let’s go back inside then. We’re wasting time with clothes on.” Luca’s demeanor changes, his jaw hardening, eyes going black and serious.
I grab his arm. “You’re more than a good fuck, and you know it.”
“Do I?” He pulls away and starts back for the house. Following behind him, like a stray puppy, I search for words.
When we get back into the house, I still don’t know what to say. How could I? It’s better this way. A fling is something you get to keep in memory for a lifetime. It stays sweet. Trying and failing at a relationship destroys everything. “Is it so wrong to want to keep this perfect? Like this?”
He doesn’t answer—he storms off upstairs. Luca is upset and with good reason. I basically just told him that he was worthy of sex, but nothing more. It was to guard him, and my heart. This isn’t part of the plan. It can’t be part of the plan. There’s no use fighting when you go in knowing it’s a losing battle. Luca’s world is glistening and fast-paced. There’s no fitting in, it would be keeping up. Meandering through the hallway, needing time to think, I stumble into a room that looks like it’s also been filmed in. I close the door behind me and approach the large camera in the center of the room.
I pull off the canvas protecting it and see the universal power button and press it. When the green light flashes, I assume it’s recording. I adjust the view and sit down in a chair it’s aimed at.What has happened in this chair? The thoughts running through my mind make my stomach twist with envy, but turn me on at the same time. There’s a folder sitting on the table next to me. I open it up, and it’s a page filled with prompts.What’s your fantasy?One of the lines reads. Is this an interview questionnaire? A jumping off point for the milkman to burst through the front door and say all the right things? I say the question out loud to the camera.
“My favorite fantasy?” The one I’m living right now, I think. Because it doesn’t seem real. Not even right now sitting in one of his porno rooms. It’s like some derelict fairytale without an ending that gratifies anyone. Pulling my feet up onto the chair, and underneath me, I tap the folder against my knee. “I guess it would be that the love is bigger than the lie.” It’s an impossibility, but it’s my fantasy, right?
“Greatest fear?” The next question on the list. I eye the camera. I don’t know what I’m doing, or why I turned it on. It seemed fitting for the setting. The bed catches my eye from the corner of my eye.
Instead of imagining Luca and another woman, I answer. “A toss-up between dying alone and getting eaten by a great white shark.” I look at the paper—searching for something to talk about next, but a barrage of noise at the door draws my attention. Gabby comes in first, a dog clutched awkwardly under one arm, and two men dressed in black tumble in after her.
“There she is. Grab her.” Gabby slurs her words. She’s the level of drunk that will give her a multiple-day hangover. The kind where you wake up in someone else’s bed wearing underwear that aren’t yours. The kind where you kidnap people. Wait, what? Her security grabs me and ties my arms behind my back while simultaneously picking up and walking me to exit. Gabby makes a crazed face, kisses her dog on the head, and puts a piece of duct tape over my mouth. “Don’t make any noise. You’ll get me in trouble.”
Shouldn’t you get in trouble for taking someone against their will? I don’t stay silent, I make a ton of noise, but these guys know the ins and outs of the mansion and take me to an elevator I didn’t know existed, down a few floors, and then to a passageway that leads to a car that takes us to the other Bianchi residence. What the hell is going on. I’m barefoot and still in a bikini when they open the door. Gabby puts the dog on the ground and takes the tape off my mouth.
“I figured the only way I could hang out with you is if I kidnapped you from Luca. Don’t be mad. I just want a friend.” The urge to throttle her is strong. Actually, it’s more than strong. I’m sure smoke is blowing out of my ears.
“Gabby, you can’t just take people. You could have asked. I would have said yes.”
