Holiday Hoax (Windy City Holidates #3)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

MIA

Ian is wearing his glasses again. Every time I look at him, I’m reminded of waking up beside him Sunday morning, seeing him shirtless with rumpled hair and a book in his lap.

I’m falling for him.

Not just because I’m physically attracted to him but because he’s thoughtful. Our conversations are deep whether they’re about art or the latest news headlines. He looks at everything in life through multiple perspectives, something that honestly surprises me. Most men I’ve been involved with have their opinion, and it’s the only one they care to see.

As we stand to leave from the restaurant, he helps me slip on my coat, pulling my hair from the collar gently. My insides do a somersault at the way he looks down at me. There’s a tenderness in his eyes that’s unmistakable.

“Do you want to go back to your place or mine?” he asks me as we walk out to his car.

Indecision wars within me. I should go home, remind myself that this isn’t real. Because I know that if I go home with him, I’m going to fall fully into this fantasy.

He sees the struggle in my eyes. “What are you thinking? We can work through it together.”

“I want to go home with you,” I say trailing off.

“But?” His eyes bounce back and forth between mine, searching for answers.

Panic swims at the back of my mind as I ready myself to confess. “But I know this is fake, and I’m so close to falling for you. I?—”

My voice cracks, vulnerability suffocates me. He reaches up and cups my face while the valet parks his car beside us. Understanding swims in his eyes as his thumb strokes my cheek.

“Then I’m in good company because so am I.”

In a last-ditch attempt at self-preservation, I latch onto my number one defense mechanism. “Falling for yourself? It’s a bit egotistical, isn’t it?”

He gives me an indulgent smile. “Mia.” He presses a chaste kiss to my lips and then rests his forehead against mine. “I’ll take you home.”

A confusing mix of disappointment and relief rushes through me. “Okay.”

He opens the car door for me, standing there until I’m settled and gently closing the door. Then he walks around the hood of the car and gets inside. I study his expression, but he’s got a neutral mask firmly in place.

“I’m sorry.”

He reaches over and sets his palm on my thigh, the warmth from his hand sinking into my flesh. “Don’t be. I understand that this started off as us doing each other a favor, and now it’s turned into something very real. Take all the time you need, I’ll still be here when you’re ready.”

“Aren’t you scared?”

“No.”

“Not even if I don’t share your feelings?”

He puts his car in park in front of my building. “You feel the same way, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. I’m a patient man, Mia. I’m not going anywhere while you take the time you need to figure it out.”

I’m a bit dazed while I watch him get out of the car and walk around to my door. He opens it while I fumble with the seatbelt. I take his hand and allow him to help me out of the seat.

The next thing I know, he’s closed the door and has his arm wrapped around my back. His fingers slide through the hair at the nape of my neck and tilt my head back until our eyes meet. My eyes drift down to his lips. I want him to kiss me.

And he does.

The second our lips collide, I feel the ground move beneath my feet. The tenderness with which he worships my mouth sends a seismic shockwave through my psyche. Every glide of his tongue against mine is a promise. He pulls my hair, gently angling my head for better access to my mouth. I whimper into the kiss as he nips my lip. The world bleeds into nothing but a kaleidoscope of color and sound around us until he breaks the kiss.

“Good night, Mia.”

“Good night,” I say, dazed.

I walk into the lobby and press the elevator call button. My lips still tingle from his, and as I turn to look out the lobby doors, I see him leaning back against his car, watching me. He gives me a little wave that I return. I step back onto the elevator, our eyes holding until the doors slide closed.

My mind spins with the events of the past few hours.

Ian Jameson wants me. Not just in his bed but in a relationship. Why is it so hard to wrap my head around that when I could fully understand us as a fake relationship?

I’m the same me who stood beside him in his living room among the members of his board. That made sense, though, but he and I in a real relationship feels like a fairytale. Our connection is deeper than physical, it’s intellectual and emotional. I’ve opened up more to him than I ever have to any other man.

The understanding that our relationship wasn’t real gave me a security blanket to be the most authentic version of myself. Maybe that’s what has me feeling so unsteady. He’s seen me for who I really am with my guards down. And he still wants me.

We’re so different, though. He’s wealthy beyond any measure I’m even capable of conceiving. It’s intimidating to think of joining that world when I’m from such a different world. It’s different for Nico in terms of being married to Stella, he earned a scholarship that put him in school with people of power. I went to a public school with metal detectors at every entrance.

I strip out of my clothes and stumble right into bed. Thoughts and questions wrestle in my restless mind until it begins to throb. I break down and grab two Advil PMs, succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.

“You look like shit,” Mason says as I walk into the gallery.

“Thanks, love,” I retort sarcastically. “Feel about as great as I look, too.”

“Are you ill?” Sylvia drops everything to come over and check on me.

“No. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“What’s going on?” Mason asks.

“I have a lot on my mind.” I set my purse inside the drawer at the front desk.

“Spill,” Sylvia drops her forearms on the counter. “Is it about Ian?”

“Yes.” She’s too observant for her own good.

Mason’s ears perk immediately. He’s nosey as fuck but always so supportive. “I’ll get us coffees.”

“I went out to dinner with him last night, under the impression it was a fake dinner date with someone he needs to impress from the board of directors.”

“Wait.” Mason holds up a hand after rejoining us. “Fake dinner date?”

“Yes. I’ve been accompanying him the past month to all his work functions as his date with the knowledge that it was just a favor.” I’m not comfortable divulging why, it seems like something I shouldn’t share. “I even hosted a dinner party with him at his penthouse last week to show off the art he purchased.”

Understanding flickers in Sylvia’s eyes. “Which gave you access to a new set of potential clients.”

“Exactly. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.” I take a sip of the coffee Mason brought. “And it went really well. The whole night was successful on both ends, so we decided to finish off one of the bottles of wine to celebrate. One thing led to another.”

“And you fucked,” Mason exclaims.

My cheeks flame. “Yes.”

“Was it good?” He leans against the counter, nosey bitch that he is.

“The best sexual experience of my life.”

Sylvia smirks.

Mason looks like he’s about to ask for details, so I rush on. “I thought it was a one-time thing. Just scratching an itch for each other. We had breakfast and then I went home. We didn’t really talk about it, so I figured it was just casual.”

“You stayed the night and had breakfast together?” Mason rolls his eyes. “That isn’t casual. Casual is a blowjob in the bathroom of a club. Not sleeping beside someone all night and then sharing another meal.”

Sylvia glances back and forth between us, amusement shining in her eyes. “I’m not seeing a problem here. Why the sleepless night?”

“Last night he told me he has feelings for me.”

Mason gasps, dramatically throwing his forearm over his eyes and falling back on the counter. “Oh no, Mia banged a billionaire, and now he’s caught feelings for her. Whatever will she do?”

Sylvia pokes him in the side. “Do you not feel the same way?”

“No. I do.”

“But you’re scared.”

I nod at her. “I could fall for him. I’m already starting to. Our conversations are great, he takes my snark in stride and banters back with me. But he’s my brother’s brother-in-law. He’s from an entirely different universe than I am. What can I really offer him?”

Mason’s expression turns serious. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What can you offer him? Everything. You’re gorgeous. Talented. Witty. Driven. Book smart, although you have a critical lack of common sense at times.”

“I tend to agree with Mason on this,” Sylvia says. “If he didn’t think you had anything to offer, why would he have chosen to engage in a fake relationship with you? You possess something he values enough to bring you into his world on his arm. That says a lot.”

Mason nods his head.

“But you don’t have to make any hasty decisions. If he actually cares for you, he’ll give you time to get your head on straight,” she continues.

“He said that last night when he dropped me off at my apartment. He told me he’s a patient man.”

“Well, there you go. Let’s just take it a day at a time. I’m here if you need to talk.” Sylvia pats my hand.

“And I’m here to slap some sense into you,” Mason says.

The door chimes as a delivery man comes in with a huge bouquet of flowers. “Mia Mattia?”

“That’s me.”

He sets the vase on the counter. “These are for you. Have a lovely day.”

“Thank you.” I reach for the card.

Mia,

I’m as determined as I am patient.

42 blooms for every day I’ve been falling for you.

Ian

“Oh my god,” I whisper as I look at the arrangement of red roses.

“Let me see that.” Mason plucks the card from my fingers. His eyebrows climb his forehead as he reads it. “Holy shit.” He hands it over to Sylvia.

“That’s incredibly romantic.” She looks over at me. “What are you going to do?”

“Thank him, obviously.”

“Bitch, if you don’t, I will.” Mason stares at the flowers with a look of awe. “I think I’m swooning.”

I open the drawer and pull out my phone.

Thank you so much for the flowers

They’re beautiful

You’re welcome, I’m glad you like them

I love them

I search my mind for something else to say, but I can’t think of anything. Everything I come up with seems empty. It’s not just that he gave me flowers, it's the sentiment behind him. Counting how many days it’s been since all this started is deeply thoughtful. If it were any other man, I’d assume it was his assistant’s idea, but I know that this is all Ian. It’s who he is.

Soon after our text exchange, the door opens again, but with a client this time. The rest of the day stays busy. I don’t have time to focus on Ian, but every time I look at the flowers on the front desk, I think of him and butterflies fill my stomach.

The last thing I’m expecting at the end of the day is to walk out of my bedroom and find my brother sitting on the couch with two pizza boxes and a six pack of beer on the coffee table. I’m startled but not upset. That doesn’t mean I won’t give him shit, though.

“There’s a thing called a phone. You use it to communicate and let people know your plans instead of just letting yourself into their apartment while they’re showering.”

“Huh.” Nico scratches his jaw as he stands to come hug me. “Never heard of it.”

I give him a tight hug, happy to see him after months of him working in California. “Remind me to take your key back.”

“I’ll give you the one I used right now.”

“Because you have ten others lying around?”

“Bingo. You know me so well. It’s like you love your favorite brother or something.” He taps his chest.

“You’re my only brother.” I roll my eyes and lift the lid of one of the boxes to see what he got. “Where’s Stella at?”

“Dinner with her mom.” He grimaces. “Who sent the flowers? I looked for a card but didn’t see anything.”

“Maybe I bought them for myself.”

“Or maybe the owner of the Yale hoodie you’re wearing sent them.”

I glance down, realizing I put on the sweatshirt I wore home from Ian’s house. “I thrifted it.”

A pang of guilt hits me. I’ve never lied to Nico, even about something minor. He and I have always been the closest and beyond being my brother, he’s my best friend.

Nico’s eyes narrow as he watches me grab a slice of pizza and take a bite. “I don’t believe you.”

I shrug and take another bite.

“How are Mom and Dad?” he asks.

“They’re doing better. Dad’s only going to PT once a week now.”

His visit makes sense now. I know he’s been trying to find out more information from Mom, but she and Dad are stonewalling everyone but me. I fill him in on everything they haven’t shared, minus the parts about me covering some of their bills.

“How’s everything at the gallery going?” he asks once he’s all caught up on our parents.

“It’s good. I’ve been pulling in some new clients and networking more lately.”

“I was thinking about looking for a piece to give to Ash and Clara for Christmas.”

“That’d be a great idea. I’ll keep my eyes peeled and let you know if I see anything that would work.”

“Thanks. Speaking of them, Stella and I are going over there for Thanksgiving. You should come with since you’re not going back east with Mom and Dad.”

“That sounds great. Should I go to the community center and volunteer with you guys, too?”

“Yes. Ash and I have to dress up like reindeer for the Santa visit. I bought a light up red nose to surprise him with the day of.” He laughs. “He’s gonna be so pissed.”

“I definitely can’t miss that.”

Our conversation flows away from me to his work and Stella’s health. He doesn’t leave until she calls to let him know she’s on her way home. As he walks out the door, he tries one more time to find out who the flowers are from, but I brush him off. If this thing between Ian and I becomes more, we’ll have to have a conversation about telling Nico and Stella first.