8. Emzee

EMZEE

CHAPTER 8

A fter that kiss, the rest of the evening passed in a blur.

We said our fond farewells and got out of the restaurant without further incident, but as I waited for my Uber to pull up outside the hotel, Ford decided to make a big show out of saying goodbye to me.

Everyone else was trickling out the doors as well, waiting for their own cars to come back from the valet lot, or for private car services to roll up. We had quite an audience.

“I appreciate you coming out tonight,” he said rather loudly, pulling me close and looking down into my eyes. “It really meant a lot to me and my family.”

“Um, you’re welcome?” I didn’t think he could possibly be serious, because this definitely wasn’t how he usually spoke to me. “Thanks for having me.”

“No,” he said, his hands tightening on my hips. “Thank you .”

“Ford, please. Your Town Car will be here any moment,” his mother said from behind him. “Come and wait with the rest of us.”

I frowned, but it barely had a chance to form on my lips before Ford was kissing me again. It was different this time, because unlike that first kiss, we were standing…which meant the full length of our bodies were pressed right up against each other.

God, he felt good. Solid, strong, warm. He added a hint more of his tongue this time and it made my head swim. I melted into his arms, unable to help myself.

These kisses were going to be the death of me.

I heard Ford’s mother make a huff of annoyance, but I didn’t care.

Without warning, Ford suddenly let go and stepped back. He had a smug, self-satisfied look on his face and I deflated, realizing I’d gotten carried away—that he merely considered that goodbye kiss to be Mission Accomplished.

Just then, my phone buzzed with a text: my car had arrived. It pulled up to the curb beside the Rideshare App sign and the driver’s side window rolled down.

“Uber for Mara,” he said. As if there was any doubt that the one banged-up silver Toyota sedan in a sea of sleek black Town Cars and valeted luxury vehicles could be for anyone but me.

“Yes, that’s me,” I said with a sigh, adjusting the purse over my shoulder.

Ford opened the door for me and gestured for me to get in the back seat, but on impulse I turned back and grabbed his hand, saying, “Drive home with me.”

It was kind of brilliant on my part. Because we had an audience—with his parents and all their business associates standing around watching us, I knew Ford couldn’t question my motives. I had him. Though I was sure he assumed I was just playing along with the whole charade, really giving it my all.

And that was fine with me. If he could manipulate our friendship to make me agree to participate in this whole thing, then I could manipulate his lie to suit my own purposes as well.

Because we really, really needed to talk through this fake dating stuff. I couldn’t keep getting blindsided by surprise dinners where I got unexpectedly kissed every time his mother said something rude. I needed to lay some ground rules. Set some boundaries.

“I’ll cancel my car,” he announced loudly, obviously for the benefit of everyone nearby.

It was clear what this must have looked like. Especially after that public kiss. I was the smitten girlfriend dying to have her boyfriend all to herself. And Ford, for his part, was the boyfriend who was just as excited to be going home with his girlfriend.

He climbed into the back seat after me, with a hungry expression that almost said he hoped this would turn out to be something other than what it was—a show. Was it possible that he thought this was real? That I was actually dragging him home for a booty call, as if we were a real couple? And why did that thought make my skin tingle so hard with anticipation?

It took less than a minute to realize that whatever I’d thought Ford was feeling in the moment was actually just more of the same act he’d been putting on throughout dinner. Because as soon as we pulled away, he pulled his phone out to set up his own ride home from my loft.

“That was a nice touch,” he said, grinning. “My mother is going to have her pantyhose twisted all night realizing how serious we are to be going home together.”

He gave me a brief, approving look.

“Good thinking,” he said. “My driver will meet me at your place.”

A flash of annoyance washed over me.

“Actually, that wasn’t why I wanted you to come with me,” I said. “We need to talk.”

Turning my way, he put his phone back in his pocket and gave me his full attention. For the first time since this whole thing had started, I finally felt like he was focused solely on me.

It made my heart flutter.

I wondered what he would do if I told him something completely different than what I had intended. For the briefest moment, I let myself imagine a scenario where I confessed my true feelings. How would he react? Would he take me in his arms and kiss me again, admitting he’d always secretly felt the same? Ha. More likely he’d open the car door and roll out onto the street rather than be alone with me and my pathetic emotions. I’d probably never hear from him again.

Still, I desperately hoped for option number one. The fantasy was so alive and vivid in my mind that I couldn’t quite come out and say what I wanted to say.

Instead, I danced around it. “You’re my best friend,” I told him. “You know that, right?”

“Sure. Why? What’s going on?” Ford asked, his eyes searching mine.

I took a deep breath, trying to stay focused. “Am I… your best friend?”

I didn’t know exactly what I was hoping for, or what I was expecting him to say. But his shoulders relaxed and that classic dimpled Ford grin spread across his lips, filling me with warmth as he said, “Of course.” Then he laughed. “I have all the friend feelings for you. I love you as much as I’d love a sibling. If I had one. I’m sure of it.”

Ugh. Just like that, the warmth I’d felt was gone. I was instantly deflated, my childish fantasy of him taking me into his arms fading completely.

It was time to end this now, before it went any further. It wasn’t fair. To him, or to me.

Glancing out the window, I tried to steel myself. Gather my strength and willpower.

“Look,” I told him. “I’ve done as much as I can, but I can’t go along with this anymore. It’s too much lying, and at this point, I’ve had enough lies to last a lifetime. You know?”

I watched his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

If anything, Ford should be able to understand exactly what I meant. After all, he was the one who’d gotten me through all the stress of finding out my dad had been using KZ Modeling as a cover for his sex trafficking ring. He knew what the stress had done to me, what the lies had cost my family. What it had cost me. And it was no secret that I still wasn’t over the whole thing.

“I get what you’re saying,” he said softly.

“Good. Because I need to be honest with my family,” I said. “And you need to be honest with yours. Just remind them that your personal life is your business, and say you need some time to yourself.” He was nodding as I spoke, which was encouraging. I took a deep breath. “I think it’s time to break up.”

He stopped nodding and looked out the window, not saying anything for a moment.

“Things were going so well,” he finally murmured.

“For you, yes,” I said, trying not to sound accusatory. “This isn’t great for me, though.”

That seemed to get through to him. “You sure about this?” he said.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Okay. You’re right. It’s time.”

It broke my heart a little that he didn’t push more, but I knew I’d made the right choice. In fact, the way he was willing to let me go so soon and so easily was proof enough that our faux relationship would have only led to harder heartbreak for me.

“Would it be okay if we told everyone at the Investment Ball this weekend?” he asked, turning those pleading eyes on me. “You’re still planning to go to that, right?”

“Of course I’ll be there,” I said. “I can wait until then.”

I’d already promised to go, and I wasn’t the kind of person who broke my promises. Besides, Ford and I were still friends. Even if we hadn’t been fake dating, I would have been attending as his plus-one now that Claudia was permanently out of the picture.

Letting out a long breath, I tried to shake off the tension I’d been carrying around all week. Finally, things could go back to normal between us. But mixed with the relief was a heavy dose of disappointment.

This was the most time that Ford and I had spent together in forever, and even though it was all because of his ruse, I could admit there were parts of it that I had enjoyed.

Like the kisses.

No. I had to push those memories out of my head, banish them for good. The whole point of ending this was so I could get over my crush on Ford, not tend it like a sacred flame. I needed to go back to my original plan—put myself out there, start dating for real, and see if I could find a compatible someone who had their shit together and actually wanted to be with me.

We pulled up to my building, where Ford’s driver was already waiting.

“Looks like your ride’s here,” I told him, reaching for the door handle. “See you.”

I expected him to head to his Town Car immediately and leave, but instead he waited for me to get out of the car and then walked me up to the doors of my building, his hand on my lower back the whole time.

I tried not to read too much into it. Especially when his gaze dropped down to my lips for half a second. But before I could think about it too much, he pulled me into a good night hug. A friendly, “I love you as much as I’d love a sibling” type hug that only reinforced that I’d made the right choice.

“Thanks for playing along while you could,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Sure,” I said. “No problem. It was fun.”

At least only half of that was a lie.

“I’ll call you,” he said, just like he always did. Guess we really were back to normal.

I headed into the lobby of my building, turning once I got to the elevator to wave at Ford who was still waiting outside. As I watched, he headed to his car, got in the back seat, and then disappeared into the night. It was all over now.

Somehow, I managed to get all the way up to the top floor and inside my loft before the tears began to fall.

I sank to the floor, Munchkin in my lap, sobbing like my heart was breaking.

It wasn’t fair. The whole thing with Ford had been fake all along. So why did this breakup feel so much like the real thing?