Wicked Snow

Fake Smiles

I never thought I would ever get into a situation where I would be dreading going out on a date with my own fiancé. It was a week before my wedding to Kingsley and my father had insisted that I go out with my future husband that night to give the press something to feed on. Kingsley had announced our upcoming nuptials, and now the two men who had come to take over my life, wanted me to make a public appearance with my fiancé.

The press had latched onto our imminent marriage, plastering photos of the two of us on the front cover of every magazine. Of course, we weren’t together in any of them, but that didn’t seem to deter them. Numerous articles had been written about our mysterious and well-hidden relationship, many of them questioning the suitability of the match considering our age difference and Kingsley’s playboy lifestyle– little did they know, there was no relationship at all.

Many of the articles framed me in a negative light, calling me a gold-digger, while others painted Kingsley in a harsh way, claiming that he wasn’t husband material. There were very few that put a positive spin on our relationship, not that I minded much– I was still too numb from my mom’s loss to care and it wasn’t like the marriage was real.

Either way, I was receiving more attention than I was comfortable with, and I hated all the speculation and curiosity that I was surrounded by. The whole thing was only made worse by someone leaking the hotel I was staying in to the press, so any time I left the building, I was bombarded by photographers. I would have moved to a different hotel, but I didn’t see point when they would manage to find the new one easily. So, I secluded myself in my room for most of the week, only leaving to meet with a lawyer, who had started working on a contract, and to eat in the restaurant downstairs.

That night I would have to make an appearance though. According to my father who had phoned me that morning, I had to convince the world that Kingsley and I were in love. It wasn’t that surprising that the sincerity of our feelings for each other were in question, what with the fact nobody had ever actually seen us together. Having to pretend that our relationship was real and meaningful was going to be extremely difficult and my heart just wasn’t in it to begin with. I really just couldn’t care less what the tabloids had to say.

My fiancé was far more interested in proving the authenticity of our love though, and he had made reservations for us at the most expensive and exclusive restaurant in Manhattan to show off his future bride. It took months to get a reservation at ‘Masa’, so to have gotten us a table on such short notice, he must have pulled some serious strings.

The funny thing is that I would have been so much happier at a pizza or burger joint, which just proved that my future husband knew nothing about me. Then again, he was trying to impress the tabloids, not me, so I wouldn’t have factored into the choice anyway. While my father loved anything exclusive or high-end, because it promoted his image, I was much more fond of things that were normal and down to earth. Unfortunately, since my future hung in the hands of Kingsley and my father, I didn’t have much say in where we made our debut as a couple.

My father even went so far as to send an outfit to my hotel room so I would look the part. His assistant must have chosen it, like she had my funeral dress. The red fabric clung too tightly to my body and didn’t live much to the imagination. The low neckline made me feel on display, and with my large breasts I thought it made me look like a cheap hooker, rather than the sophisticated lady I’m sure my father had envisioned.

Luckily, it was winter, so I covered the dress with a black coat, but my long legs were still on display. My father’s assistant had paired the dress with a pair of red heels, a diamond bracelet and a black clutch. The outfit made me feel fake and pretentious, but I wore it all because I wasn’t going to risk my dream of art school over accessories or shoes.

I left my hair down, the shoulder-length auburn locks falling naturally with a slight curl. I had to wear a lot of make-up to cover the dark circles under my eyes, but by the time I was done applying my mascara, I looked a lot better. My green eyes were still lifeless and devoid of their usual sparkle, but other than that, my appearance was decent.

I had just put on the finishing touches to my make-up when there was a knock at my door– Kingsley had arrived. I took a deep breath and went to open the door, feeling nervous about what the night might bring. Kingsley stood confidently with his hands in his suit pockets and his face a mask of cold disinterest. I was surprised to see two men who looked like bodyguards standing behind him, looking alert and prepared.

I turned my attention away from the two men and focused on Kingsley. He had severe brown eyes that matched his dark brown hair. His short salt and pepper beard and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes were the only signs of his age. He was remarkably fit for a forty-three-year old, especially one who drank the way he supposedly did. His suit fit well over his broad and muscular shoulders, and where there should have been a beer gut, there was only a flat stomach.

I had seen photos of him, but for some reason I had assumed he would look worse in person. I had expected deeper wrinkles and more gray in his hair, but the man in front of me had aged very well.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to act towards him, especially with the two men standing a few feet away. On principle, I disliked the man, but I had never been anything but to polite to new people. It just wasn’t in my nature to be rude.

“Do you understand what’s expected of you tonight?” he asked without greeting me or acknowledging me in any way.

The man was just as unpleasant as I had expected him to be. I looked toward his bodyguards, not wanting them to hear the details of our fake engagement.

Kingsley noticed where my attention had gone and, with a smirk, informed me, “They know everything, so don’t worry about speaking in front of them.”

I still hesitated to answer his question though, feeling embarrassed.

“Do you know what’s expected of you?” he repeated impatiently when I didn’t speak.

“Umm… pretend to be your fiancé?” I phrased it as a question.

He narrowed his eyes at me in clear irritation, and I shifted my weight awkwardly under his glare. This was not how I wanted the evening to start.

“You need to sell the story that you are my adoring fiancé,” he informed me slowly as if I were too daft to understand. “You are here to make the world believe I am a changed man, a man in love if you will,” he added mockingly.

“Yes, I’m aware of the situation,” I said through a clenched jaw. My cheeks had reddened in embarrassment at the condescending tone he had used with me in front of his men. He made me feel like a child who was too ignorant or dumb to understand the world. I guess in his eyes, I was barely older than a child.

“Good,” he responded in a no-nonsense tone. “Once we leave the hotel, I expect you to act like the loving fiancé you are meant to be, and I will do the same. Even while we’re in the restaurant you are to maintain the pretense. Understood?” he asked sharply.

“I understand,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Let’s go then,” he said without further adieu.

The lift down to the lobby was quiet and tense, neither of us interested in conversing with the other, and the bodyguards were silent and unmoving. When we got to the right floor, Kingsley put his arm around my waist and pulled me into his side, getting us ready for the cameras. His cold mask was effortlessly replaced with a cheerful grin and his entire demeanor seemed to change in a split-second. I was still marveling at his transformation when the elevator doors opened.

Looking down at me and seeing my unsmiling face, he leaned closer and angrily whispered, “Smile, or kiss art school goodbye,” while roughly pulling me closer to him.

To anybody around, it would have looked like he was just whispering sweet nothings in my ear, but his threat was far from sweet. Heeding his warning though, I plastered a fake smile on my face and leaned into his body. He was half a head taller than me, even with my heels on, so I could comfortably rest my head on his shoulder as we walked through the lobby with the bodyguards on either side of us. I felt repulsed by his touch and was uncomfortable with how close we were, but I forced myself to carry on with the pretense, even though I was hating every second of it.

“Don’t embarrass me,” he warned me before we stepped out of the hotel doors.

My smile wobbled and faltered at his words, but I tried my best to seem comfortable on Kingsley’s arm as camera’s started going off and reporters shouted questions at us. We ignored them, and his two bodyguards cleared a path for us to the limo that was waiting for us. I nearly rolled my eyes at the flashy car, but I suppressed the urge for the sake of the cameras.

Kingsley helped me into the car, seeming like the perfect gentleman, but as soon as the doors were closed behind us and his bodyguards, his smile dropped, and his eyes lost their kindness. I scooted away from him, wanting to put some distance between us.

“Do try to be a bit more believable this time, Grace,” he said in disapproval as we pulled up to the restaurant.

I fisted my hands in anger, already losing my patience with the difficult man. I met the gaze of one of the bodyguards, the younger one, who was looking at me with sympathy in his eyes, but I only felt mortified that they were there to witness all of that.

I was usually good at keeping my calm, but I was in no mood to deal with Kingsley’s shitty personality, so I retorted, “Do try to be a bit less of an ass why don’t you? Maybe then I won’t have to struggle to be so believable.”

I saw the one bodyguard’s lips twitch up as if he were trying to contain a smile and the other bit his lip to contain his laugh. I couldn’t help but think that if they had to work with Kingsley all day, hearing someone disrespect him would be a joy to witness.

“Now you listen here,” Kingsley started saying furiously.

I saw his hand coming toward my face, and I yelped, my hands instinctively came up to protect myself. Years of dealing with my father had taught my body that response, but in this case it was unneeded. He was only pointing his finger at me, like I was a naughty child he was reprimanding. I lowered my shaking hands, hating that Kingsley and his bodyguards had seen me react that way.

“What the hell was that about?” Kingsley asked confusedly, looking at me like I had grown an extra head.

“N-nothing,” I stammered. “Sorry.”

I averted my gaze only to meet the knowing eyes of the young bodyguard. I could see from his sad expression that he knew why I would have reacted the way I had. I looked down at my hands, wishing I could escape from the disaster of an evening.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, nodding to the bodyguards to open the car door for us.

I pulled myself together, forcing a smile onto my face as Kingsley held out his hand and helped me out of the car. The press was outside the restaurant as well, but I’m sure it was no accident that they knew where we were going to be. The whole evening was an act, and what was the use of acting if you didn’t have an audience.

We were greeted warmly inside the restaurant, and the hostess led us to a table in the center of the space. It was a perfectly placed table for the whole restaurant to see us making googly eyes at each other– or whatever Kingsley wanted us to do to prove our relationship.

The whole affair was rather awkward and painful, but I managed to keep a small smile on my face throughout the dinner. Kingsley talked about himself as we ate, keeping the topics related to his business, which I found mind-numbingly dull. Most of the food was admittedly delicious, but I had always been a picky eater so some of it was just not for me. I didn’t even touch my caviar, because lets just face it– eating fish eggs is disgusting. I zoned in and out of the conversation, only adding a few comments here or there to show I was making an effort.

It started to rain at some point during the meal and instead of focusing on him, I looked over his shoulder and out the window. I loved rainstorms, so I contented myself with watching the rain, nodding every so often and keeping the smile on my face to make it look like I was paying attention. I was thankful when Kingsley finally asked for the check and we could leave. I felt uncomfortable in my dress and heels and didn't feel like I fit in at the high-end restaurant. People like my father and Kingsley would do anything for money and status, but I could do without all of it.

I’d been on quite a few bad dates before then, but the date with my fiancé was turning out to be by far the worst. What I didn’t know though, was that it was far from over.