Fake It For Me Read online

  “Connor Rex,” I said, rising out of my chair and stepping toward him. “Or should I say ‘Doctor Rex.’”

  “I’d like to think we’re on a first-name basis,” he said, his voice low, and rich as honey.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but took just a moment to take in the sight of him. He was just as gorgeous as I’d remembered him. His sun-blond hair was slicked behind his ears, his ice-blue eyes caught the sun pouring in through the windows in a manner that almost made them glow, and his bleach-white doctor’s jacket fit snugly on his wide shoulders and barrel chest.

  With his red lips, fair skin, and luminous hair, he’d always struck me as less of a man and more of a Nordic god. At least, that’s how I saw him when I was a gawky, doe-eyed teenager. I felt a slight tightness down below as I looked at him, which caught me by surprise.

  “That we are,” I said, sticking out my hand toward him.

  He glanced down at my hand for a second and regarded it with a wry expression. Then, he cut the distance between the two of us down to inches, leaned in, and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. His manly, sensual scent drifted up to my nostrils as he came close, and that warm, familiar smell brought me back to high school for a brief moment. I was momentarily intoxicated.

  “This is a…surprise, for damn sure,” he said as he walked over to his desk and took a seat on the edge.

  He crossed his legs and folded his big hands on his lap.

  “You’re not the only one who’s surprised,” I said, my eyes drifting along his wall at the row of diplomas and certificates. “MD from John Hopkins, top of your class at Columbia…you’ve come a long way, baby.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, likely to fire off some smart-ass retort. But then he shook his head as if realizing just how strange this situation was.

  “Alice,” he said, “it’s nice to see you, don’t get me wrong. But you want to tell me why you’re in my office in the middle of a workday? Why you’re here after, what, ten years?”

  “Let my business card do the talking.”

  I reached into my purse and pulled out my silver card holder. Taking one out with the tips of my French-manicured nails, I handed it toward Connor. He regarded me with a sly expression for a moment then looked it over. As he did, I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift down his body, coming to a stop on the bulge of his crotch. Through his ink-dark slacks I could make out the form of his long prick, and the sight of it in the flesh—long, hard, and thick—appeared as clear as a photo in my mind.

  “Alice Holiday,” he said, reading off of the card. “Freelance writer, based in Hemswood, New York.”

  He slipped the card into his coat pocket and turned his eyes back to me.

  “Very nice design, but this doesn’t tell me anything other than that you haven’t left our hometown.”

  “You familiar with Who’s Who magazine?”

  “That’s the local gossip rag that likes to pretend it’s a high-end publication, right?”

  “It’s hardly a gossip rag,” I said, a little bit of defensiveness slipping into my tone. “We focus on the biggest names in the city, keeping the very curious public abreast of all they need to know about this humble city’s most elite.”

  “So, a gossip rag,” said Connor, the slight smirk on his sensual, red lips, letting me know that he was more than happy to give me the business.

  “It’s not—”

  I stopped myself.

  “I do freelance work for them. They’re my best client, actually, so I’m in the city pretty often doing profiles here and there.”

  “I don’t like where this is going,” said Connor.

  “Well, last week they sent me my latest assignment. They’re dedicating their next issue to the top bachelors in the city, and guess who made number one on the ‘doctors you need to know’ list?”

  “Hmm,” he said, looking away. “My good friend Dr. Silverberg’s been single for a while. Little bit of a gut, but damn fine proctologist.”

  I let out the slightest snort of laughter, my hand quickly shooting in front of my face to not give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d made me laugh.

  “No, jackass,” I said. “It’s you!”

  He raised his dark eyebrows slightly. I’d profiled plenty of men before, and most of them could barely restrain their excitement at being profiled as one of the city’s big names. Connor, on the other hand, seemed more amused than anything else.

  “That so?”

  “You’re surprised?” I asked. “You’re one of the top heart surgeons in the city. You’re handsome, rich, and single. Maybe a little bit of a prick, but I’ll make sure to gloss over that particular detail.”

  “People seriously spend their time reading about shit like this?” he asked.

  “People love reading about shit like this,” I said. “Are you telling me you’re not the slightest bit flattered by the fact that people are dying to know more about you?”

  His eyes flicked up and down my body.

  “I’d think a woman like you would make better front-page material.”

  I smirked and rolled my eyes. There was that old Connor I knew, that shameless flirt.

  “So quick with the compliments,” I said. “I bet one or two of those is still all it takes to get the girls to drop their panties for you.”

  “I wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true,” he said.

  “Well, maybe in high school a wink and a smile from the great Connor Rex would’ve worked—”

  “It did work, if I’m remembering correctly. “

  “—but let me assure you, this little meeting of ours is all business.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, as if trying to reconcile the sheepish Alice that he once knew with the one who stood in front of him. I felt my heart thud—sure, I was keeping my cool, but this man standing in front of me wasn’t just any man—he was my first love, my first screw, hell, he was my first kiss. But I was a professional. I wasn’t going to let any of that get in the way of the job.

  Connor held up his hand for a moment, as if needing to collect his thoughts. Finally, he stepped toward the fancy-looking coffee machine and poured himself a cup.

  “You want some?”

  “I’m good.”

  A steaming mug with the Beth Sinai logo written on the side in his hand, he took a sip and thought for a moment.

  “You know, I could have security called on you. After all, you did just waltz into my damn office without an appointment.”

  “Persistence and tenacity is how I got this gig, Connor,” I said. “And look, it’s got you still talking to me.”

  “That’s because you and I have a history. If you were just anyone I’d have sent that cute little ass of yours packing.”

  “Sounds like I knew how to parlay a situation to my advantage, then.”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  He took another sip.

  “So, tell me about this article.”

  I could tell that his defenses were cracking by the moment, and a little thrill ran up my spine. I was already imagining how over the damn moon my editor would be if I managed to get Connor locked down for an interview.

  “It’s simple, really,” I said. “You and I have a few interviews over the course of a week or so. We talk about your life, your job, what you like to do for fun—all that good stuff. Anything that any eager bachelorette might want to know about the handsome doctor.”

  “You and I would be spending some time together, then?” he asked.

  “That’s right. And just think about how nice it would be for you and me to finally catch up after so many years.”

  He set his mug down on the table and looked away. A strange expression formed on his face, one that I couldn’t quite puzzle out. It looked like the gears were turning in his mind, as though he were taking this new information in and figuring out how to best use it for…something.

  And again, my eyes moved along his body. Another flash appeared in my head, this
one of Connor on top of me, my ankles in his hands as he pounded away at me hard, an expression of concentrated pleasure on his face, his golden hair wild and untamed. That feeling of tightness down below returned, and this time I even felt myself get a little wet.

  Then he turned back toward me, a sly expression on his face.

  “What would you say to an all-access interview?” he asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m looking for,” I said. “The more access, the better.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said with a smirk, pouncing right on my inelegant choice of words.

  “Seriously, if you wouldn’t mind doing a more in-depth profile that’d be…amazing. I could write an actual article, and not just some little page-long thing. It’d be perfect.”

  He nodded slightly, as though I’d said just what he’d wanted to hear.

  “OK, then,” he said. “I’m not totally sold on the idea, but how about you and I meet up for dinner tonight? We can talk the whole thing over while I’m not pressed for time.”

  “Sure…” I said. “Sounds great.”

  He still had that curious look on his face, and I couldn’t shake the need to figure out just what was going on in his head. This was all too easy—I was expecting more resistance, even in spite of our history. But I had no other choice than to go along with it.

  “Perfect,” he said. “Where are you staying?”

  “I’ve got a place in town in Williamsburg. Just a little studio where I stay when I’m in the city.”

  “I know a great spot in Williamsburg. You know Marley’s?”

  Yeah, I knew it—it was the two-Michelin-star joint where I couldn’t get a table if my life depended on it.

  “I’m familiar.”

  “Great. I’ll get us a table there for…let’s say seven. Wear something nice. We’ll talk over everything then.”

  “Sounds…good,” I said, still unsure of what angle he was working.

  “Now, I need to get back to it.”

  He handed me a card from a small wooden holder on his desk.

  “Email me your address and I’ll be by to pick you up later.”

  “Perfect,” I said, standing up straight and composing myself as best I could.

  “Until then,” said Connor, coming in and giving me another kiss on the cheek.

  My eyebrows narrowed in skepticism as he led me out into the hallway. His office door shut soundly behind me, and I was alone, wracking my mind trying to figure how just what the hell was going on in the head of Connor Rex.

  Chapter 3

  Connor

  I stepped into my apartment and tossed my keys into the little ceramic dish on the small table near the entrance, the day still weighing heavily on my mind. The West Village was lit up like a Christmas tree outside of the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse apartment, and I found myself standing and staring out into the city, my hands clasped behind my back, as the events of the day unfolded in my mind.

  And they weren’t over yet. I still had a dinner with Alice to look forward to, and a strange blend of emotions whirled around in my head as I considered it. My mind kept flashing back to Alice in my office, thinking about just how fucking good her legs looked in that skintight pencil skirt, how her tits appeared ready to pop the buttons off of her white blouse, how she kept nibbling on the end of her pen as I spoke, as though a little Freudian substitution was going on.

  I felt my cock twitch in my pants just thinking about it. I couldn’t believe that the girl in my office was Alice the Mouse, that nerdy little thing I’d dated for a few weeks in high school, that girl with the too-big-for-her-face glasses who couldn’t put together an outfit to save her life.

  That girl that I’d fallen harder for than I ever had with any other girl.

  I shook my head and made myself a scotch and water, flicking on the apartment’s stereo system to some laid-back jazz. I wanted to get in a few minutes of rest before I started the process of getting ready for the evening.

  As soon as I took my first sip and settled into my favorite leather, overstuffed easy chair, however, the elevator leading up to the apartment opened with a “ding.”

  “Daddy!”

  I cast a glance over toward the voice just in time to watch my five-year-old son Hunter burst out of the elevator and rush over to me, his blond hair bouncing wildly with each step. Eliza, his nanny, stepped out of the elevator behind him, shopping bags in her hands.

  “There’s my dude!” I shouted as Hunter leaped up onto my lap and threw his arms around me.

  After he finished his hug, Hunter glanced down into my scotch.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  “You know what it is—Daddy’s special after-work drink.”

  “Can I have some?”

  “Maybe in fifteen years or so,” I said.

  Then I turned my attention to Eliza, the slim, raven-haired thirty-something who’d been working as my nanny for the last few months.

  “Anything to report?” I asked.

  “Nope,” she said, setting down her bags on the floor. “Hunter begged me to take him to an after-school trip to the Museum of Natural History.”

  “Again?” I asked, looking back at Hunter. “That’s the fifth time this month—they’re gonna think you’re living there.”

  “That would be cool,” said Hunter. “I want to live in the dinosaur skeleton.”

  “Probably not the best insulation,” I said, taking a sip of my drink. “Now, go get washed up. Eliza’s going to make you some dinner.”

  “Fine,” said Hunter before clambering off my lap and heading down the hallway to his room.

  “I’ve got dinner plans tonight,” I said, heaving myself out of my chair. “Might need you to stay a little late.”

  “That’s what you pay me for,” said Eliza. “Business or pleasure?”

  I opened my mouth to speak but realized that I didn’t really know the answer.

  “Ah, business,” I said.

  Eliza flashed me a curious little smile.

  “Too bad,” she said. “If you’re ever feeling up to taking a break with business and indulging in the latter, you know where to find me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, finishing my drink.

  With that, Eliza gave me a wink and headed into the kitchen to make dinner. I shook my head as I set my glass back at the bar, and made a mental note to make sure I hire some wizened English nanny-type if I ever need to replace Eliza—these younger nannies couldn’t help but flirt.

  I stepped into the vast expanse of my bedroom and shut the door, shucking off my work outfit and getting down to my boxer-briefs. I glanced at my body in the mirror, a pleased little smile forming on my face as I saw that letting my gym routine get a little lax hadn’t affected the definition of my slim, toned abs.

  A few minutes later, I was dressed in a crisp white dress shirt, charcoal slacks, and a pair of black double-monk shoes polished to a mirror shine. I took one last glance at myself in the mirror, then stepped over to my tall oak dresser and opening one of the top drawers and reaching in. After fumbling around for a few moments, my hand found what I was looking for: a small, plush box. A small smile formed on my lips as I pulled it out, checked the contents, and slipped it into my pocket.

  Tonight was going to be very, very interesting.

  ***

  My eyes flicked around the dimly lit dining room as I stepped into Marley’s. The place was a standard Brooklyn-affair: nice without being stuffy, lots of reclaimed wood and brass in the décor, and waiters clad in all black—a Williamsburg-hipster take on fine dining.

  I checked in with the hostess and was soon led to my table, a little two-top near the large front window that afforded a view of the bustling city streets out front. I ordered a bottle of wine for the table, knowing it was going to take more than a little booze for the evening I had planned to go smoothly. I tapped my finger on the right front pocket of my slacks, making sure the small black box was still in there, a
smirk forming on my lips as I did.

  It didn’t take long for Alice to show up, and when she did it took all the restraint I had not to let my jaw drop onto the table, my tongue unfurling out like in one of those old Rex Avery cartoons.

  “Connor?”

  Goddamn, she was a knockout. Alice was dressed in a tight ink-black cocktail dress that showed off just about every subtle curve of her body. Her shoulder-length, chocolate brown hair was tucked back behind her ears, and her big green eyes looked down at me from behind a pair of stylish, black-framed glasses. Her full, gorgeous lips were a dark red, and her matching high heels showed off the lovely tone of her legs. And though her cleavage was only a hint, it was more than enough to get my blood pumping.

  Fucking hell, I thought, feeling my cock twitch, my mind already filling with images of just what she looked like under that cocktail dress. I caught sight of a hint of a black lacy bra, and the idea of Alice in nothing but her bra and panties was enough to make my heart thump in my chest like I was a damn middle-schooler.

  I couldn’t believe that this was the same girl I’d dated so long ago.

  “There she is,” I said, standing up and giving her a hug and a polite kiss on the cheek, her lovely, fresh smell rushing into my nose.

  “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” she said, slipping her gorgeous figure into the seat across from mine.

  “Just got here,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.”

  I sat back down and took another look at Alice. Now that she was up close I could spot the constellation of freckles that dusted her pert, elfin features. Under the table, I felt my cock pulse just a little harder, and I internally scolded myself for feeling so out of control.

  Alice’s cat-like eyes glanced around the restaurant, taking in the décor.

  “A little fancy for a business dinner,” she said. “Trying to impress me?”

  “Impress you? Someone’s become a little bit of an egoist over the years,” I said, pouring her a glass of wine.

  “What?” she shot back through a half-grin. “You’re the only one who gets to be full of himself?”