The Millionaire’s Fake Wedding

“Me, too, Allen.”

“Are you kids done? Good. Now, here’s how this is going to go…”

Natalie went on to explain that the most important thing was the chemistry. People could tell when a couple is just friends or, well, a couple. Loving stares, loving smiles. They had to look happy as clams, and enjoy every moment. Most of the lecture was addressed to Belle, because Allen was running and jumping, scoring hoops, and because he would be the same during the game that day, and all eyes would be on his, for the time being, girlfriend. Sports press would be interested in the game, but the tabloids would be present, as well, watching, analyzing, and building all sorts of theories. Natalie said that was good. As the saying went, any press was good press, but just then they were betting on the good kind, and Natalie assured her that Belle was giving off the best vibes.

“I must warn you, however. The race issue will come up.” Natalie held a pause to get a reaction.

“Okay. What do I do then?” Belle asked. Natalie’s expression was unnerving.

“Nothing. Fuck them. Whenever idiots that play the race card emerge, so do the good guys, who will destroy them. Let them talk. In the end we’ll be the ones popping champagne. I can promise you that.”

Natalie’s sheer confidence was something to be admired, and Belle did just that. She didn’t need a superhero pose to be sure – she’d be just fine.

After the talk, Natalie lead Belle back upstairs, and then up another staircase, to where her room was. At the top of that staircase Belle saw that the far wall of the second floor was also all one continuous window, and trotted to it to look outside. She couldn’t believe it. The pool was there, all right, but there were also two (two!) basketball courts, a tennis court and what looked like a golf course, but could’ve been just an extensive lawn that ended with a chunk of Allen’s private beach. It was surreal. Such homes existed, sure, hell, there were mansion ten times bigger, but to actually be at one seemed like… She thought the Cinderella metaphor would be too cheesy, but something out of a movie worked just as well.

“Hon, you’ll have plenty of time to explore the premises. We’ll even let you out!” Natalie laughed creepily, which was a great example of dry humor, but Belle was too mesmerized not to laugh along. “Come on, I’ll show you the room.”

They walked through the left wing, along the glass wall, and Belle was looking outside the whole time, barely noticing the interior. Not that there was much to notice: the walls were white and beige, with unexplained doors every ten feet or so. There were more forgettable pictures of nothing, no doubt picked by whoever the designer of the place had been. Overall that part of the house was empty and unlived-in – a total waste of space. Belle was already imagining herself redecorating the place, adding colors, breathing life into it…

That was silly, of course. A job was a job.

They reached the end of the hallway, and Natalie opened a door. “Here you go, Ms. Jameson.”

As expected, this bedroom was just as dull as the rest of the wing. A king-size bed dominated the room, with a nightstand on either side – how very original! There was a separate dressing room, as well, with long empty shelves and several floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Belle didn’t think she’d ever have enough clothes to fill a quarter of all this space, but in her mind she could see lines of Jimmy Choos and Salvatore Ferragamos, as well as an endless catalog of silks and cashmere. Scary.

“Are you alright, Belle?” Natalie asked.

“Yes, thank you. Just…”

“Overwhelmed? I get that. You have to keep it together. A number of overwhelming things will happen before the night is over.”

They walked to the bathroom then, which was half the size of Belle’s whole apartment, back in the neighborhood where no limos ever went. The shower was separate from the bath – a small room with a glass sliding door – and the large window overlooked the vast backyard. It was all green, to the point where it was hard to tell what exactly was going on outside. Some bushes? Thickets? A park? Only when Belle put her cheek to the glass could she see the pool and the basketball court somewhere far on her right. 

“Might not be the best view, but at least you’re the first one to live here.”

“Are you saying Allen never had a girl in that bed?”

“Good point. I like you, Belle. I think you’re the right girl for the job.”

“I hope so, too.” Belle didn’t hope – she was absolutely sure. She was a guest and an employee in this house, but already she felt some kind of power over it, as if it was her stage and she had the lead role. Easy peasy.

“Speaking of that,” Natalie said, “Allen’s bedroom is on the other side of the house, so you have nothing to worry about.” She winked. “Not that he’d do anything. I mean that you can relax. No funny business here, just… regular business. Are we good on that?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Back downstairs Natalie poured them both coffee and opened the fridge to find some food. Belle saw there were mostly protein cocktails and fresh fruits and vegetables in there, as well as some steak. On the door there were a few packs of sandwiches, the kind you could by at a gas station for 4.99. They tasted like paper, so Natalie must’ve been hungry. She unpacked and dug into one.

“I hate that crap Allen consumes. It’s not fuel – it’s food! And food has to have texture. Want one?”

“No, thanks, I’ve eaten. So, what’s the plan for today?”

Natalie swallowed and chased it down by coffee. “We wait for champ to finish the workout and shower. Then I jump in my car, and you two jump in yours – well, Allen’s – and we head for the stadium. There the team spends another hour training and figuring out the strategy and so on, while you and I talk. Yeah, there’ll be some of that!”

Belle drank her coffee. So far nothing sounded too challenging. Hanging around at a stadium, chatting, receiving instructions – it seemed like all the hard work was on the PR manager, while Belle just had to be there on time (80% of success is showing up!). It almost seemed too easy. But nothing ever was, right?

The hardest part, at least that first day, was all the waiting she had to do. Once they’d finished their coffee, Natalie said she had to make a call, and disappeared into another room for the better part of an hour, leaving Belle alone in the kitchen with nothing to do. After a while that got old, and Belle went to her suitcase. She wasn’t going to carry it all the way to her room on her own – thank you very much – but she did open it and fish out flats to change into, since the heels were killing her feet. And it’s not like there was anyone to appreciate them, anyway.

Once she was comfortable, Belle walked outside through the glass door, coming to the pool. It was impossibly hot outside, temperature in the high-80s, the sun scorching. Thankfully, the pool was there to save her. She raised her dress some, not all the way up, but exposing her thighs, and sat down, feet in the cool water. Perfect.

“I see you’re getting used to it, huh?”

Belle turned. Allen Rodgers was there, in the kitchen, only a towel around his waist, his hair still wet. He took a few steps toward her, stepping on the burning tile.

“Enjoying the morning?”

“It’s…” She was at a loss for words. It was new to her. She’d been hit-on on a regular basis, but never under such circumstances. She’d always had a comeback for a fool who dared to advance, but just then there were no words. She was mimicking Allen’s half-smile, her lips parted.

“Care for a swim?” he continued.