A Word of Praise

Kiara sat at her small kitchen table, literally bumping her head into the wood. Several times. Why the hell did she agree to spend four days on a fucking island with loaded snobs she knew nothing about? Of course, she didn't know exactly what she signed up for before she accepted his offer, but she knew it came from the guy who sent her to fucking jail and said yes anyway.

And based on what? A hunch. Something so intangible and arbitrary she couldn't explain even to her dad, who used to be a firm believer in following your gut. But she saw it, right there, hiding behind his handsome stoic facade. He was... desperate.

After she said yes at the pastry shop, he was quiet for at least a full minute. She could tell how hard he was trying to keep his cool, but the new sparkle in his eyes proved her right. He was dying for her to accept his offer, and it was not just to win over her. Either way, her acceptance didn't seem to change the dynamic of their unspoken battle. Kiara was determined to make him lose it, and he was definitely trying to drive her crazy. The only change was that now they would do it under the same roof for a couple of days.

His explanation of the tasks she should perform during that period was vague, and she barely understood where they would go, but she knew her usually peaceful thanksgiving was bound to have something she got progressively unaccustomed to: people.

They agreed to meet a couple of times before the trip that began, in three weeks, to sort out some details about their story. The show was mostly for his parents, but there would be friends and business partners coming and going throughout the extended weekend.

Why they invited business partners to a thanksgiving holiday was beyond her comprehension, but then again most of that plan was. She couldn't say she wasn't curious, though. Chris was a powerful man, with a merciless, arrogant attitude. Why would someone so high-and-mighty be willing to get a fake girlfriend to please his parents?

More so, why did he choose her of all people? There must have been tons of girls dying for a chance to sign up for the job. After all, he was a devilish mix of filthy rich and obscenely handsome. The first part was a giant red flag for her, but hey, to which his own.

When they arranged the first meeting before the trip, Kiara made him agree on a neutral ground. She suspected he had the means to find out her home address but refused to tell him willingly. She questioned her own decision now that she was standing in front of a library alone at seven pm, but she was not caving after the heated text exchange they had before.

The wind was howling in the street and she was ready to yell at him for asking her to dress nicely. This time, in person. Being Kiara, she seriously considered wearing a circus costume and call it nice, but it was more likely to embarrass her than piss him off. He had mentioned a 'restaurant he liked', so it was probably fancy as hell. She couldn't live through the stares that would come if she wore performance clothing.

Soon enough, the Aston Martin parked outside the library and she took a deep breath before getting in. She couldn't shake the bond girl vibe she was getting, and she only hoped to be more on the Elektra King's side than Stacey Sutton's. At least Elektra tried to kill the man.

"Are you getting in or what?"

Way to break the fantasy, prick. His comment annoyed her, but it went away when she sat on the fancy leather seat and inspected the panel. She wanted to touch it, but the smug look on his face stopped her. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"I am not your real girlfriend Christopher; you don't get to do surprises."

"Don't call me Christopher." The stern tone he used surprised her. She knew he preferred Chris but didn't think it would be such a sensitive matter. She'd definitely do it again.

"Ok, where are we going?"

"Madelaine's," he hissed out, probably mad because she did a double strike by ruining the 'surprise' and calling him Christopher.

"Am I supposed to know what that is?"

"It is a restaurant, Kiara. Now can we please move on to what we came here to do?"

"And what is that?"

"We need to get our story straight."

"Right. Do you have any idea of what you want to say?"

"No." Still angry. Awesome way to start the night.

"Maybe we could say we met at a bar." Now she was feeling excited. There was an opportunity of creation there, and she rarely let those pass her by. "What? Why?"

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"I don't know, I could be from a Russian background. Maybe I can do a sickening Russian accent if you want me to." When he didn't stop her right away, she felt allowed to keep building up her character. "Oh, perhaps I came to the US to escape my family, and they are still looking for me..."

Kiara was losing herself in the idea, already imagining the dark make up she would use and the tight dress that would match the persona she picked...

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Twice now he was breaking the fantasy. And by the look on his face, he wasn't getting her point at all. Where was that guy's imagination? Jesus.

"I'm impersonating a character. What else? You had no idea, to begin with, so I'm brainstorming." She shrugged, trying to get back to her provoking self. She forgot for a second to keep herself in check during her monologue and needed to earn back her stance.

"Shit, do you have multiple personalities?"

"Now, wouldn't that be fun to show your mom and dad?" There it was, furrowed brows and thinned lips. Much better.

"You are so fucking annoying." "Thanks."

They reached the restaurant without another word, and she began to feel uncomfortable when a valet came to take the car. It only got worse when the hostess led them to a table with a view of the city and provided them a menu without price tags.

She noticed a few people staring at them and tried to assess if her clothes were adequate for the place. As much as she tried to be cool with people watching her, she was only ever fine with it when she was performing. And that was only because she was damn good at it, or else it would be excruciating.

"Are you alright? You seem like you could throw up."

"Just thinking about the disparity of wages between guests and workers here. Makes me a little sick." Nice save Kiara.

"Why do you hate money so much?"

"I don't hate money, just people with it," she winked. Hoping to kill the subject, she brought back the reason for their dinner. "So, no Russian runaway then?"

He clearly had something to say about her first comment but was forced to accept the change.

"You won't play someone else. Just be you, but my girlfriend."

"Yeah, that won't happen"

"Why the fuck not?" He pinched the bridge of his nose. Damn, could she make a job out of annoying him? She'd love it.

"I would never date you and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't date me either."

"Why?"

"Well, despite your pretty face, you must have noticed I don't like the whole moneybag situation you have going on, and..." "No. Why wouldn't I date you?" Oh, that.

"I... you know why!" That was a shitty answer and now she was looking stupid.

"You're wrong, I'd fuck you in a heartbeat".

'I bet that's what you'd last,' Kiara thought sarcastically. Her actual answer was not far behind on the sarcasm, though.

"I'd fuck you too honey, but that doesn't mean I'd date you."