Beyond The White Charade

I was the last minute finisher of a wedding, to be honest. It seemed to have all the indications of a disaster, but such is the nature of event planning. Everything seems to be in disarray until the last minute when magically everything falls into place.

Here, I caught a breath beside the grand ballroom entry, as I watched the bustling staff set up the reception area while music would be heard in a matter of hours. The excitement hung thick in the air.

The phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to check the message from the assistant.

"Ryan Miller is here. He wants to see you."

Ryan Miller. Instantaneously, my mind registered his name while my heart skipped a beat, but I really couldn't tell why. I knew who he was, of course. Every event planner in the city knew who he was.

He was a billionaire businessman who had earned the notorious reputation for being merciless and charming. So, he was like the type of guy who could make you feel both intimidated and maybe intrigued at the same time.I had seen him at a couple of high-profile events in passing, but we had never spoken, much less had any meaningful interaction.

After all of that, I scanned the room to ensure everything was in its place before making my way to the lobby where Ryan was apparently waiting. What could he want with me? I could guess.

People like him always had a reason for going to these kinds of events, but it was hardly ever for good. Still, that didn't stop a small flutter of curiosity in my gut. After all, how often did a man like Ryan Miller walk into your life?

The moment I stepped into the lobby, I saw him. Standing at the windows and looking through the view of the city skyline, emanating that calm confidence which seemed almost unnervingly.

He could be chiseled out of stone. Impeccably-fitted suit that could have been tailored for him. He was overpowering.

He was a tall one, probably about six feet tall, with dark hair and a jawline that seemed almost unnervingly calm.

Just made my admiration soar as he carried himself with an nonchalant, effortless grace in his movements, as though used to getting exactly what he wanted all the time.

"Emily," said that smooth, rich voice as he turned around to face me. "I've heard a lot about you."

I gave him my polite smile, trying especially hard to win over the butterflies busy conducting their own propaganda in the pit of my stomach.

"Mr. Miller," I said evenly, "What can I do for you?"

He arched one brow and had the corner of his mouth turn up just a little bit, almost making it look like a smirk. "Please, call me Ryan."

I nodded and stepped towards him. "Ryan, then. What brings you here today?"

He kept looking at me for some moments, even gazing at me with intense and unreadable eyes. Finally, to my surprise, he took a deep breath and said, "I need help from you."

I blinked. "My help?"

"Yes," he replied while looking straight at me. "I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend."

At first, I was shocked. "Excuse me?" I asked, somewhat unsure whether or not I had heard him.

Ryan leaned back against the wall, as if asking me to fetch a coffee instead of making the most ridiculous request.

"I know this is going to sound very strange, but hear me out. There's a situation I need to handle, and I could really use someone like you in my corner. I'm offering a rather substantial chunk of money to 'lease' your time and... services."

He was staring at me as if hypnotized by what he had just said. "Wait," I said, shaking my head. "Are you asking me to fuel a false relationship with you?"