The Millionaire’s Fake Wedding

Unlike the guestroom, in which Belle was supposed to be staying, Allen’s room was a huge space, furnished with all sorts of fancy armchairs, and sofas, and minimalistic armoires. There was a flat screen TV that took up most of the wall opposite a wide leather couch, with at least eight speakers positioned all around to achieve cinema-quality sound. Along one wall ran a shelf with basketballs signed by, Belle guessed, other famous players. It was an odd sight for a basketball superstar’s bedroom.

“My heroes,” Allen explained. “If it wasn’t for them…” But he didn’t need to finish the sentence. Belle squeezed his hand, as if to say I get it.

The bed itself seemed to be as big as Belle’s whole bedroom back in the apartment in the neighborhood where limos never went. Despite everything, Allen didn’t go for the bed. Instead, Belle followed him to one of the doors.

“It’s a very special place, Belle, I want you to know this. Not even Natalie’s been to this place, only me. Well, and the guys who installed.”

This would’ve normally scared Belle – she’d imagine a BDSM dungeon or that kind of thing, but she trusted Allen. He was a good man. She knew it in her soul.

He opened the door and let her in first. He turned the dimmer clockwise, only halfway, to set intimate semidarkness.

It wasn’t a dungeon, far from it. Still, it was a bit of a cultural shock: The far wall was all one wide floor-to-ceiling aquarium, populated by all kinds of colorful fish and underwater greenery. Belle spotted Nemo hiding in sea anemone, and smiled. In the middle of that wall was a small fridge. To the left, sticking halfway out of the floor was a bath, cut from a single block of stone, by the look of it. To the right was a semi-circle couch upholstered with what looked like calfskin. In front of it was a rectangular table with a set of chess on it. Beside the couch was a treadmill, and beside that was a stand with a record player on it. Belle noticed there were quality speaker all around the room, as well.

“I like to think of it as my personal relaxing lounge. The proper bathroom is in another room.”

“It’s very nice. But who do you play with?” Belle looked at the chess.

“Chess is not about beating someone. Not just about that, at any rate. It’s about testing your brains. Trying to figure out…”

She didn’t let him finish. She kissed his lips and held him tight. He responded with the same.

She always thought athletes were dumb. How hard was it, intellectually, to run around with a ball? But now she saw athletes weren’t just tools.

A moment later, however, none of that, of her thoughts, mattered.

Belle giggled, covering her mouth, lest Natalie heard it. They could both hear Natalie’s heels on the steps of the staircase, and knew she’d soon be in Allen’s bedroom. There was nowhere to run. Allen had already put on his shirt and pants, and was buckling his belt. He offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet.

“Here,” he passed her shirt and jeans, while she was looking for the bra.

“You want me to hide here?”

“I think it’ll be best. Nat’s gonna knock on the door, and we’ve agreed to meet and discuss how things went today…”

“Hey, I get it. Just… Come here.”

She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled, lacing her arms his neck. They kissed one last time before Allen left. He told her to lock the door from the inside and closed it. Belle did as instructed, and tiptoed back to the couch to get dressed.  Allen was gone for some time, and after ten minutes she lied down.  The upholstering was soft and smelled deliciously of leather. Add to that how tired she was, and falling asleep was inevitable.