A TEMPTING ARRANGEMENT

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

After our conversation, I ordered room service. Archer had a good head on his head, he helped me with my plan. He even ironed out the first step I was struggling with.

Our first plan is to release the video I recorded of them in the hotel. I’d like to see how he reacts to the video. what excuse he is going to come up with.

“What about being intimate?” Archer asks.

I look at him for a few seconds before I answered. “I guess we could be intimate. We are married and you’re a man you have needs…” I shrug my shoulders.

Archer was a good-looking man, and he was my husband. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together if nothing untoward happened in the future.

He tilts his head looking at me. He crosses his arms. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. We could wait as well. It’s not like I’ll find a woman on the street if you don’t want to be intimate with me. We could wait until we have feelings for one another.” he says seriously. But the tone of his voice has me pausing.

I wouldn’t lie and say I wasn’t thankful for his thoughtfulness, but I’ve known Archer my entire life and I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust him. I know Archer would never do anything to hurt me. Intentionally or unintentionally

“I mean we could wait. If that’s what you want… How about when all the drama is over, we can sit down and reevaluate our situation?” I ask.

I’ve already promised to make this marriage work, Archer was doing me a favor and giving up love to be with me. I never even got to find out about the girl he liked. I know she’s got to be perfect and just the thought of her has me feeling jealous, I’ve done nothing but mess up my own life, as my mother would say, if I didn’t involve modelling I’d be a jobless living in their basement eating them out of house and home.

Sighing I run my fingers through my hair. My hair feels terrible. The bleach fried my hair and had extensions in for the length, my hair wouldn’t go past half my neck now. My hair is fried because I constantly bleach it, to keep up with my blonde barbie brighter than life alter ego.

Archer helped me for as long as I can remember, not once has he ever asked me for anything.

I’ve always been one to act first and ask forgiveness later. Which is why I was so surprised I didn’t kill the two of them right then and there. Buy a gun and shoot the two in their sleep. Or rip her hair out for sleeping with my fiancé.

“Should we reintroduce ourselves?” I ask.

Archer leans back his mouth twitches in amusement. “I mean if that makes you feel better. My names Archer Conner Reed, I have a twin sister, Rebecca. She’s married to my best friend and assistant Joey… I’m from Galway, I’m here shooting a movie with good friend of mine. I’m thirty. My parents live in Dublin, Shannon and Damien. I have a degree in fine arts, business, econ and HR, what else? Oh, I’m a Capricorn. Those are things you could google though…” he shrugs his shoulders.

I smile. “I know that about you. Tell me something I don’t know, like the girl you like, what’s her name?”

Archer looks at me confused. “What are you talking about?” he asks.

“Well, when we were talking in your hotel room last night you said you liked someone…”

He shakes his head. “I never said that. You assumed it…” for the first time ever Archer actually looks upset.

I go to apologize when he changes the subject.

“Have you ever googled me?” he asks.

I frown. “I have, just to keep myself updated, we’d go months without speaking and I’d save a couple of pictures of you. Like the one of you from the Forbes list…”

He smiles. “Don’t tell me you’ve been getting off on my pictures now?” he jokes.

I burst out laughing. “God, I don’t think I’ve laughed since landing in Ireland. Thank you…”

He smiles. “No problem wife. Tell me about yourself…” he tilts his head and looks at me in interest.

"I’m twenty-six, I’ve got a little brother Damien, he’s ten, he is a whole sixteen years younger than me and was named after you and your father. I’m a natural brunette, my boobs are fake, the only real thing about me is my eye color Green…” I smile sweetly. “I started modelling very early on, I remember the first time I walked a runway, the confidence I felt in that moment, the joy I felt. It was something I love doing and here I am nine years later still doing what I love, I guess this life is a blessing…” I don’t bring up how even walking down a street in New York or LA is like walking the runway now. The constant paparazzi hounding me for pictures. Archer doesn’t really understand it, because even though he is in the entertainment industry, he works more behind the scenes than in front of it. He could travel to a city without anyone knowing he’s here. Like he did getting here. He’s helping produce a movie for the next month as a favor to a friend.

I’ve been pushed into people’s faces on every social media platform. People are tired of seeing my damn face. I am too. If I open my t****k up two swipes and it’s a video of me and Tate walking down this street or walking out of that restaurant.

Now that I think about it, what if Tate and Lacy planned those paparazzi? Because I’ve been in Galway for the last few days without them knowing and no pictures of my time here have gotten out.

Archer flicks my forehead; I glare at him. It freaking hurt.

“You’re too deep in thought. I could hear the wheels turning in your head.” He smiles.

I just glared at him holding the spot where he flicked me on my forehead with both hands.

“I don’t understand why you speak about yourself in such a degrading manner though. Many actresses, models and singers, have had work done, and many people dye their hair. Hell, there was a time in high school I dyed my hair orange by accident because I wanted to be blonde like Goku when he turned Super Saiyan.”

I burst out laughing. I’d forgotten about that. It was during spring break, and we were bored so we both bleached our hair only because he was scared off frying his hair off, didn’t leave the bleach in long enough.

He playfully rolls his eyes. “That’s not what’s important. Andrea you are a beautiful woman, and I don’t want you to speak like that about yourself.” He leans in closer. “I know Tate was a son of a b***h who only cared about himself and made you feel less than, but you’re so much better than that. You’re a household name, you’ve worked your way up the ladder without using your last name and without a handout. Remember that. Remember how hard you had to fight to be the best. Remember the sacrifices made to be here. The first thing you need to work on is your confidence love…” he says softly at the end.

I bite my lip, my confidence slipping, and I look at him. “It’s hard…” for so long I’ve looked at myself and fake, the persona I have behind closed doors is very different to the one I have when it’s me by myself.

For him to pick up on it so easily. I’ve been with Tate for years and he hasn’t even noticed it.

He stands. He knocks on my forehead. “I have to stay in Ireland. But I’ll be back in the State in a month like I told you. While I’m here you could pack up your apartment and move your things into my house. I’ll have someone bring you the key and add your fingerprint to the door.” He tells me.

I nod. “Tomorrow’s my last day here, I have a shoot in London in a few days. But I need to get home first and speak to my parents.” I tell him.

He nods. “We’ll have breakfast tomorrow so we can sort out how the next month will play out right?” he asks.

I nod.

He gets up and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll leave you…” he winks before leaving me alone.

I run my fingers through my hair before getting up and taking a shower.

I roll my neck pushing my wet hair out of my face.

The last few days have been unexpected to say the least. My relationship status has changed from engaged to married to two different men. I don’t think I’ve ever come up with a crazier idea. Marrying Archer could be the worst mistake I’ve ever made, not because I think he’ll hurt me, but because I what if I do the unthinkable and fall for him. Archer’s hard not to love. I might not believe a love for me exists, but Archer makes it so easy to fall for, he is sweet, caring and most of all. Never once has he judged me for a decision I’ve made.

I turn the shower water off. I step out of the shower and grab a towel.

I wrap it around myself.

I haven’t cried for the loss of my relationship. I’ve only felt anger so far as much as I would love to say I was drunk out of my damn mind when I proposed marriage to Archer, I wasn’t, I wasn’t completely drunk, I knew what I was doing, I knew exactly what I was doing. I’d fed him drinks so he would agree. I’d left that part out when explaining what happened.

I wasn’t much of a drinker, and I wasn’t one to drink away my sorrows. I was drinking to stop myself from burning down Tate’s hotel room. Wasn’t I supposed to break down in tears, cry a damn river, why do I feel free? Why do I feel relief? Why the f**k do I feel anger and not an ounce of pain for the loss of my love? The man I was going to spend the rest of my life with?

What the f**k is wrong with me?

I was broken. I knew I was broken, I didn’t cry as a teen, I think the only time I ever cried was at Archer’s parents’ funeral, he didn’t cry, he stood dead still as a rock, so I cried for him.

I got into bed completely naked thinking about my new life. I knew I had to tell my parents soon.

My father needs an explanation. What the hell was I going to tell the man. I bet he wouldn’t care as long as it’s not Tate. Can I lie to him and tell him I was drunk out of my mind?

The next morning, when I woke up, I was blinded by the light seeping through the window. I guess I didn’t close the curtains last night. Great!

Getting ready for the day I dress casually in a beige skinny flair dungaree, a white tee, and pair of white super star adidas.

When I picked up my phone there was a knock on my door. When I open the door it’s my dear beloved husband. Note the sarcasm. Opening the door further for him to step in I close the door once he’s in.

“You wouldn’t believe it, but I got a call from your dad last night. He knew about our marriage…” he says.

My eyes widen. What? How did my father find out so soon?

My phone rang before I could say anything. I pick it up. Tate Andrews name lights up on the screen.

Archer and I look at one another.

Archer lifts a brow and asks. “You want your husband to answer the call for you?” he asks.