Outrageous Proposal Part 7

She made a noise like she disbelieved him, and he playfully glared back at her.

"Unless you want me to stay in the bed with you," said Harrison, putting his hands on his hips. "Which it seems like you do, quite frankly, since you're the one who brought it up. If you want me to, I can definitely make arrangements for that. I'm a bit of a sleep-talker, though."

Clarice made a shocked noise and let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, you wis.h.!.+ I'm not about this random, casual s.e.x place, remember? That's the whole reason you hired me to pull off this crazy idea?"

"But we're engaged, so it wouldn't technically be casual s.e.x with a stranger..." He took a few sly steps forward.

"Harrison." Even as she rebuffed him, Clarice could feel heat between her legs begging her to take his offer. She tried to fight it down before he could see it on her face.

"Right, right," he acquiesced with a laugh and checked the enormous gold watch on his wrist. "I have a few more things I need to attend to before they arrive. I also have something I need you to do."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

From his jacket pocket he pulled out a small unmarked envelope and handed it to her. "Here are the details of your mission, Agent Bond."

"If one of us is Bond, I'm pretty sure it's you." Clarice giggled and took it from him. "Is this your life story?"

"More or less. The highlights. Things you'll need to know to pull this off."

"I didn't make you a dossier on me."

"Maybe you could?" he said. "It would certainly help. And the other thing I need you to do is get down to the boutiques and get some shopping done."

"Uh, what?" she said. "Are you serious?"

"Quite," he said. "I need you to look the part, darling. It's not an insult to your current wardrobe, of course. You are a vision. But my mother would take me over her knee again if she thought I wasn't drowning my future wife in the finest jewelry and clothing available. Go fill out your wardrobe for the week and tell the staff to charge it to my account."

"That sounds like a legit story," said Clarice. She pretended to be talking to a shop-girl. "Oh, yes, that's what I said, charge all of this to the owner of the resort, he totally said I could do it!"

"I like the way you think ahead. It's one of the things I'm good at, too."

"Are you sure? Because I don't think we'd be here making this deal if you were."

Harrison playfully glared at her. "You've got quite a tongue on you, haven't you?"

Clarice gave him a saucy grin. "What can I say? You seem to bring it out in me."

His gaze turned to something more admiring and a little bit l.u.s.tful. "I've already phoned ahead and told the shops to expect you, so there shouldn't be a problem."

"If I do, can I throw a fit like a pampered housewife and demand that they get my future husband, the owner, down here this instant?"

Harrison laughed. "By all means, the more obnoxious the better. You'll fit right into my mother's social circle."

"Yeesh, maybe I don't want to do this."

Harrison wrapped his arms around her in a sweet, innocent embrace. "There's no turning back now, darling. You made a solemn pretend commitment to me to be my faux wife." He took her hands in his with a straight face as Clarice tried her best not to bust up laughing at him. "You can't get imaginary cold feet, not now."

"As long as it's not pretend money in my bank account when all this is said and done," she winked.

"If it is, then my father has much bigger problems than my marital status." Harrison gave her hands a squeeze before he dropped them. "I've got some business to attend to before he arrives, but do give me a ring if anything comes up. I'll contact you as soon as his plane touches down and let you know when we'll be meeting."

"Knock, knock," Trudy's voice rang through the main suite, followed by an impressive whistle. "Jesus Christ, please tell me this is the wrong room."

"In here, Trude!" called Clarice. Seconds later, her best friend popped into the bedroom with wide eyes and an approving smile.

"This place is incredible," she said, whirling around. Her pretty pink sundress twirled around her tan legs as she did. "I am jealous."

"Only the best for my pretend girl," said Harrison. Then he turned to Trudy with a frown. "Wait, you are aware of what's happening, aren't you? Or is that what you call a spoiler alert?"

"We got the Cliffs Notes last night after your surprise proposal, although I plan on extracting as many more missing details as possible, and I'm prepared to use any means necessary," said Trudy with a playful glare leveled at Clarice. "But I do approve of you spoiling my girl here, for any reason. She needs it more than anyone I know."

Clarice huffed. "Gee, thanks, you make me sound delightful."

"Personally, I think all women need more spoiling," said Harrison, placing a gentle hand on each of the women's arms. "In fact, Trudy, you help yourself to whatever you'd like at the boutiques as well. Put it on my tab. I'd be happy to spoil Clarice's friends."

Trudy's mouth dropped open. "You are truly going to regret that."

Harrison laughed. "I doubt that very much. Now, I must be off." He turned to leave the room, but then stopped and came back to Clarice. He leaned down to give a small peck on her cheek.

She turned red and felt her chest tighten up, but when she looked up at him with questioning eyes, he just said, "Practice makes perfect, right?"

Clarice nodded, fighting a grin. "Right, of course. We'll see you in a couple hours."

Harrison winked and gave Trudy a nod before disappearing out of the suite.

"That man is dangerously charming." Trudy turned back to Clarice with a loving yet judgmental look, shaking her head slowly. "Girl, I still don't get how all of this happened."

"I already told you guys last night, there really isn't much else to it," protested Clarice, trying very hard to make it sound like less of a big deal than it was. She was still feeling less than stable about this whole adventure, which she tried to convince herself was half the point. She was worried her sensible, protective best friend would still try and talk her out of it just when she was getting the fires back in her engines.

"I still find this whole thing so hard to believe since it came out of nowhere," said Trudy, throwing her big designer purse onto the plush bed and then following it with her body. "This guy seriously just... asked you to be his pretend wife? What the h.e.l.l kind of twilight zone did we land in?"

"You're the one that dragged us here, I take zero responsibility for any zones or twilights," said Clarice with her hands on her hips. "Like I said, I met him yesterday when he helped me back to the elevators, and the next time I spoke to him was when he pulled me away from dinner last night. He asked me to pretend marry him last night, and I agreed to do it this morning."

"How... romantic?" said Trudy with a laugh.

Clarice gave a sarcastic, dramatic sigh. "Yeah, I know, isn't he great?"

"This is all really G.o.dd.a.m.n weird, hun," said Trudy with a serious voice. "It's not exactly your style lately to just run off with strange British men and their needlessly complicated life schemes. Harrison seems like exactly the type of f.u.c.kboy we've always hated and avoided - or is that just me?"

A bit of shame bubbled up in Clarice's gut, and she admitted, "Yes, I know and I see what he is, that's why this is all just a business arrangement. I'm not actually dating or marrying him after all. I'm just getting paid to pretend I'm a princess for a week. Clearly he's a guy who loves his job, and his job is being king of a s.e.x resort, so... I'm not letting myself get hurt, Trude. Promise. Anyway, you all told me to come here and have an adventure. Like I said last night, I'm not into the random hookups, so this is my adventure."

Instead of the berating she was expecting, Trudy tilted her head and gave Clarice a sly smile. "Some serious pride welling up in me to hear you talk like that, girl. I'm finally seeing shades of the old Clarice who used to hop the fence at Coach.e.l.la and flirt her way out of trouble with the security guards. I like it when you're all fired up. You always end up landing miles ahead from where you were before in life."

She let out a small laugh at that memory. "That's exactly what makes me want to do this, Trude," admitted Clarice. She sat on the bed next to her best friend with a huff. "I know it seems ridiculous to be a part of this scheme, trust me. When he first offered it to me, I wasn't jumping on board right away. He sort of talked me into it."

"With his d.i.c.k, right?"

"No!" said Clarice with a laugh. "No, we're not banging."

"Yet," said Trudy.

"It's not like that!"

"I give you two days."

"Anyway," said Clarice with an eye roll. "He talked me into it with promises of luxury, I'm not too proud to admit. I wasn't feeling totally great about this hedonistic party stuff anyway, so now I have something different to do... and something that's going to make me richer. Plus, it will be a fun challenge to see if I can pull it off, and if I don't, who cares? I'll just never go to England for any reason, I guess, so as to not run into his parents afterwards."

"Give me a break," said Trudy. "I know you, girl, and I know you don't give a flying f.u.c.k about being rich. What's the real reason you're giving into these shenanigans? And don't try to bulls.h.i.+t me again."

Clarice sighed and stared at her friend. She should have known better than to try and pull one over on Trudy in the first place. They knew each other too d.a.m.n well. "The truth is, Trude, I haven't felt like myself - my whole self - since Tanner left me. It's like he took some part of me with him, the part that was brave and tried new crazy things and only wanted to be happy and active. I know it sounds silly to suggest he could have done something that damaging to me just by leaving me, but... he really did. And honestly, I'm terrified he took it for good... that I lost that part of me forever... I have to see if it's true. I have to know if it's still in me or if I'm stuck being afraid of living for the rest of my life."

"Afraid of living? What do you mean?"

"Afraid of taking chances and risks, afraid of doing things that look ridiculous or insane. Some of the best things in my life have happened because I took chances on something foolish. If I can pull this off with Harrison, do something crazy and wild, maybe I'll start to feel better. Maybe I can finally get out of this funk and remember back before Tanner, when I was just me, and I wasn't afraid of anything. If I can trick some high society people into thinking I'm moving into their world without them knowing, maybe that would mean my instincts are still good and I'm not a useless pile of failed human being after all. Maybe it means the old Clarice is still in here somewhere."

Trudy made a deeply painful noise and wrapped her arms around Clarice. She pulled her best friend down to the bed and embraced her tenderly. Warmth and love traveled like a slow tide down Clarice's nerves.

"You are not a failure," said Trudy. "You never were, hun. I hate to hear you talk like that about yourself. You've been my best friend my whole life, I don't know what I would do without you, and any guy who can't see how amazing you are is truly a pile of s.h.i.+t. Tanner has never and will never define you. You'll always be who you are, you just need to get out of this funk and come back and enjoy life again."

Clarice laughed, but it was punctuated with emotional tears. "Thanks, babe. It means a lot to hear that, honestly."

"I'm serious. I'm sorry Tanner f.u.c.ked you up so badly. None of us saw that coming and I know it broke your world apart. All I want is for you to get back on your feet, because you're an amazing woman and you have so much to offer the world. That's the whole reason I set up this trip in the first place, you know? I could see you struggling and I wasn't about to sit there and do nothing."

"Trude," sniffled Clarice. "You're too good to me."

"I wasn't just giving Harrison lip service. You deserve the best," said Trudy. "And if this little comedy of errors with that studly British babe is what's going to help make you happy, girl, then I support you one hundred percent. After all, like you said, that's what we came here for, isn't it? A little adventure? I don't care if your adventure is the same as mine or the others, so long as you have a good time and come back to the world s.h.i.+ning like you always have."

Clarice kissed the top of Trudy's hair. "Thank you, hun. This will be a lot easier to pull off with your support. We'll just need to fill in the others or they will never forgive us."

"They'll never forgive us for the shopping spree we're about to take, either. Ask me if I give a d.a.m.n."

11.

Harrison

It had been ten, maybe twenty years since Harrison had felt as nervous as he did now. A schoolboy's fear, that's what was charging through his veins right now - a schoolboy's fear of his imposing father arriving to scold him and tell him all the ways he has failed. It made him feel weak, insignificant, and small. It was not a feeling Harrison was accustomed to having, and he wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. Usually he dealt with it by getting drunk or getting his d.i.c.k wet - or both. He didn't have time to find someone to f.u.c.k, and meeting his father drunk would obviously make things much more difficult. But he did duck into one of the bars just off the lobby and pour himself few shots of rum to calm his nerves. It was early and the place was mostly empty, so he didn't even feel a bit self-conscious about it.

His father's plane had touched down at the local private airport over two hours ago, but the elder Moore had immediately gone off to attend to business on the island instead of meeting Harrison first. He owned several resorts in Bali and would never fly halfway around the world without stopping in to grace them with his presence.

The delay was a tactic Harrison recognized as a power trip, an intimidation move meant to make his own time look more important than the time of whoever he was meeting with. It was probably a subconscious, even reflexive action ground into his father's habits from decades of dealing with the world's most powerful and ruthless businesspeople. Yet it still stung Harrison to see those same kinds of tactics used on his own son. He had some sliver of hope, after all these years, that things could be different between them. So far, it didn't seem that hope would be rewarded.

Familiar resentment began to bubble up in his blood like poison bile, and he immediately tried to clamp it down with some meditative thinking, a trick he had been trying to master for the last few months. He had an extraordinary scheme to pull off this week, and it wouldn't do to have his deep-seated feelings about their relations.h.i.+p rear up and make things worse. He had to look respectable, changed. He was getting married, becoming the man his father wanted. He had to play the part down to the letter or it would never work.

Part of the bitter bile in Harrison's mouth was certainly due to his wish that he didn't have to play a part at all. He would rather simply not resent his father in the first place, have his father respect him for who he was and the choices he chose to make on his own, but that was an even more improbable happening than him getting engaged. His father made it clear a very long time ago that there was only one path he expected Harrison to follow, and any deviation from that would be viewed the same as failure.

For many years in his youth, Harrison had tried to have his cake and eat it too - to be the rebellious, f.u.c.k-up heir who didn't care about his father's boring traditions, and also to make his father proud through his personal achievements. It never worked, of course. His father never gave a d.a.m.n about any accomplishments Harrison made that weren't in service to the family or its businesses. He never encouraged any interests Harrison had in the arts or culture.

What happened with Anastasia had been the last straw, the final attempt at fitting into the world into which he had been born. But there were lots of reasons Harrison had gone before his father one day many years ago, humbly, to ask for a favor for the first time in many years.

Heartbroken, fed up of fighting his father, and utterly sick of England as a whole, Harrison told his father he would take any resort job the elder Moore would find him, as long as it was far away. It was the one and only time he could remember his father giving him what he asked for.

Harrison moved to Bali and never looked back.

With his father thousands of miles away, Harrison dove headfirst into the blissful paradise of having power, wealth, and freedom. He found he took very naturally to running the resort, a fact which surprised his father at first. But Harrison was a people person, and that was all this job was, really. Everything else was details. Harrison had everything he could ever want in Bali, and no one could make him do anything he didn't want to do. He was in power. He was king.

And kings didn't get their hearts broken.

Yet as he stood at the bar staring at the shot of rum in his hands, Harrison wondered what had gotten into him the other night when he had sent the email. Could it really have just been the Sambuca making him brave and stupid? He had been sloshed before and made some bad decisions -especially back in England - but this bad decision was so specific. Harrison couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was wrong with him.

Maybe some part of him wanted to grow up in the way his father always wished for him.

"Bullocks," he muttered to himself, shaking off the thought. He tossed back the rum angrily and dropped the shot gla.s.s in the empty sink.

Both his watch and phone agreed that time was marching on, a thought that served to keep him on edge, despite the drinks. He just wanted this nightmare to be over with.

Only imagining how Clarice was making out in the boutiques brought a brief smile to his lips. She really was a remarkable woman for agreeing to this insanity. Not that she owed it to him, of course. He wouldn't have blamed her if she had pocketed the expensive engagement ring, and simply puttered on with her lady friends, returning to the States and leaving him to face his problems alone. He would probably be tempted to do the same thing in her position.

It's not like he hadn't left ladies in the dust before, himself. Maybe not under stakes so high... but then, that was just his ego talking, wasn't it?

Harrison decided the only thing to do would be to get some work done. He was far too anxious to relax and it was slowly dawning on him that he had zero control over what was happening right now. His father would show up when he wanted, like always, and then the plan could get underway. Strangely, he realized he wasn't worried about Clarice pulling off her part, not even a little. He was far more worried he would say something himself that would ruin his well-laid plans.

Heading for his office, he felt a wave of relief when he saw Bruce, s.h.i.+rtless and sandy, sliding in one of the side employee entrances that connected directly to the beach. His long hair had come loose from whatever ties he had put it in, and it was soaked with sea water and glittering white sand. Bruce was glowing with the happy vibes he always got when he surfed. Harrison realized it had been weeks since he had been on the waves with him, and he felt a pang of envy.

"Hey bro!" said Bruce happily. The sandals he had been wearing dangled from one of his hands. "I was just about to give you a call and see how things are going. Is the plan working so far?"

Harrison sighed and came to a stop in front of his friend. "I suppose, it's a bit too early to tell. I've got my fake wife at least."

Bruce gave him a sad smile and patted him on the shoulder. "It's going to work out, whatever happens."

"You have far too much faith in the world. I blame all the pot, it's a gateway drug to stupid optimism."

Bruce laughed, "You love pot. And you love my stupid optimism; it's the only thing that counters your faux-cynical British dryness."

"Faux-cynical? Clearly I haven't been getting my honest message across to you all these years. No Englishman has ever faked his cynicism."