I Kissed A Playboy (8 page)

‘Sorry. The soccer thing threw me the other day. I play every Sunday. I train twice a week. It feels unfair.’

‘I didn’t know you played.’

‘It’s a Sunday team, nothing major.’

‘If you don’t break my sister’s heart, perhaps you could take me to a game.’

‘Wouldn’t that be torture?’

‘No. It’d be heaven to be close to a green playing field and ball.’

‘Can I count on you to pitch in for Faith? Let me whisk her away to a castle tonight?’

‘As long as the intention is to find out if you may want her in that castle for longer than one night.’

‘I knew this was coming.’

‘I couldn’t let you walk out without the over-protective brother speech; you knew that,’ winked Gabriel.

‘You have my word my intentions are strictly honorable. It’s important she knows last night wasn’t a designed set up from my side—we were in the wrong club at the wrong time. My feelings for her aren’t part of a PR stunt. I don’t consider us a mutually beneficial affair to publicly parade in order to achieve our separate desired outcomes. This is about gaining her trust.’

‘Good luck there,’ wished Gabriel sympathetically.

Chapter Nine

It was by no means an easy day for Brian. He couldn’t remember when he’d had to chase a woman. The thrill of the chase was exhausting. Brian hadn’t pinned her down as the type to play ‘hard to get’. The sheer frustration of Faith screening his calls and refusing to respond to his texts drove him crazy.

On one hand he had to sort out the photo-shoot to promote the hospital’s fund-raising, but he also needed to organize something special for Faith. He wanted to convince her he didn’t see her or their developing feelings as a ticket to re-enter the celebrity arena. Without contacting her he couldn’t arrange either.

In the end he rang the professional line, praying he wouldn’t have Gabriel answering the phone. It would be mortifying to have him playing go-between.

‘Spires Virtual Services, Faith speaking.’

‘Hey it’s me.’

‘Hi.’

Her voice was hard to read. She didn’t sound angry with him, but there was a distinct distance present.

‘How you coping with all the newspaper ordeal?’

‘I suppose I’m fortunate in this case having a small family—there’s no one to give me too much grief. The weirdest part is I’ve had all kinds of people from college and high school crawling out of the woodwork to make contact with me. Bizarre.’

‘It’ll blow over. You know what they say about today’s newspapers.’

‘I wouldn’t mind fish and chips for dinner now you mention it. I built up an appetite with a hard-core exercise session I’m still recovering from.’

The reminder of their closeness in bed settled Brian. Perhaps the strangeness on the phone was because the majority of their social interaction took place face to face.

‘Save that thought and have a salad for lunch.’

‘Are you dictating my diet to me?’

‘No, I’d like to wine and dine you, but our options are pretty limited given we don’t finish till after 9pm.

‘Aren’t you tired?’

Brian wasn’t sure if it was a teasing question or a brush off. Perhaps she felt like having a break from him. To preserve his pride, he refused to answer the question.

‘I’ve spoken to my PR agent.’

‘I heard. I was there remember,’ she said icily.

‘Faith will you give me a chance to speak.’

‘Go on.’

‘She’s had a lot of contact from the press. What we thought was maybe a photo-shoot at the hospital this afternoon. They will ask us personal questions on our relationship, but I can instruct that the main focus of the story relates directly to the Muscular Dystrophy research grant. We can weave in how we met raising funds and include contact details for donations.’

‘Sounds fantastic,’ she said excitedly.

Brian could hear her clapping enthusiastically in the background. He bathed in the glorious sound of her exclamations of how many people could benefit. It wasn’t only making Faith happy, that he found rewarding, but the prospect he’d actually actively positively helped out other people, complete strangers, less fortunate than him.

‘It is great news isn’t it?’

‘The best, Brian. The best.’

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that.’

‘I’m sure it’s a story I’ll dine out on. It was a small sacrifice given what could eventuate from it,’ her voice was unruffled.

His fear that she’d blame him for manipulating her emotionally for public recognition was off-base. Even Susie’s ‘Cinderella’ story set-up didn’t have her phased. The stress and worry of her pushing him away because of the excess press attention invading her life couldn’t have been less concerning to her.

‘Does that mean my arms comforting and keeping you safe are no longer essential?’

Brian made himself sick at the sugary saccharine question.

‘As it goes you might have to stay on guard to keep your body safe from my lusty intent,’ she taunted.

‘That’s a beast I’m willing to tame,’ challenged Brian.

‘Promises, promises.’

‘But I always deliver Faith Spires.’

‘Yes you do Mr. Porterhouse.’

Chapter Ten

It had been too long since Brian found himself having to complete a full day of mentally intensive labor. Not only was he inclined to catch up with Susie face-to-face to carefully draw up the agreement for the afternoon photo-shoot and interview, but he wanted his surprise evening with Faith to run without a hitch. Keen that every angle and conceivable mishap be identified and assessed, he worked tirelessly till Gabriel convinced him the plan was fail-safe.

Faith shook her head when she arrived at 3pm at the hospital to see Brian, Susie and a tabloid entourage at the main entrance. Naturally the hospital was happy to accommodate Brian Porterhouse’s presence; his networking connections had been one of the main reasons why Faith had persevered with him. The feeling of achieving what seemed an unlikely goal was one thing, the feeling of falling in love completely different.

‘I wasn’t sure what to wear,’ was Faith’s opening introduction to the crew. ‘I watched the Devil Wears Prada and was a fan of Ugly Betty but my wardrobe is miniscule. I wasn’t sure of the nature and set up of the shoot.’

She held tightly to the small suitcase behind her, which usually traveled as hand luggage.

‘Don’t fret, we’ve got a range of things,’ said a fashionable woman, close to Faith’s age, taking her hand.

A room had been set aside in the hospital. Faith physically shrank when she saw two portable racks of clothes, with a woman furiously ironing a collection of selected outfits. Everything looked perfect and coordinated. Brian was clean shaven and dressed preppie. The navy color of his shirt made his eyes smolder and the cut of his clothes accentuated his frame; supporting a handful of designers that had used him as model in his younger years. Faith marveled that his body graced her bed that very morning.

‘Cheer up. You might enjoy it. I bet you’re a natural,’ he encouraged.

‘I bet you’ve never turned up to a photo-shoot with a tiny suitcase of wrinkled, out of date, unflattering clothes.’

‘I don’t do photo-shoots either,’ he whispered. ‘Remember mostly I’m in the tabloids. They’re candid snaps when I’m out on the town. Besides people are only interested in what women are wearing, not which man is escorting them. Fashion is the main feature, whatever you’re told. Let yourself go. Enjoy it.’

‘I suppose. Might be the only chance I get.’

‘I doubt that very much.’

Faith was sure he was being kind, but her spirits lifted. Once wardrobe, hair and make-up finished their expert efforts on her, even Faith was unable to put herself down. She looked truly stunning. She didn’t feel as though she was completely out of her league with Brian. If anything, after a few test shots, Faith had to admit they made a striking couple. The clothes chosen were casual, but had clean lines to define her tiny waist and ample bosom. In heels she was a fraction shorter than Brian, but appeared tall and willowy.

There was a fragility to Faith reflected in the photo which she hated. Did people perceive her as a vulnerable, clueless, do-gooder, airhead with no common sense? Faith didn’t suffer fools gladly and had difficulty tolerating incompetence. The thought her photos would portray her as anything other than devoted, effective and efficient was severely discouraging.

She consoled herself that she would compensate for her fragile china-doll looks by taking a vocal role in the interview.

Brian was stupefied by Faith’s dominating presence. He was all for supporting the hospital but she was bordering somewhere between the nonsensical and evangelical. She skimmed over their romance, dismissing it as something that commonly crops up when working closely with someone in tense, emotional situations. Brian was beginning to feel tense and emotional himself.

‘Brian, what drew you to Faith in what appears to be a close connection?’

‘There’s almost nothing not to like. I think when someone has a heart as big as Faith’s, that has an enormous capacity to love, it’s hard to not get swept up in the current of warmth and positivity she radiates. Her passion is compelling. It makes you eager to join her quests. I’m privileged to have any part in this amazing woman’s life.’

The words were lost to Faith’s ears.

‘Faith, what’s the biggest attraction Brian holds for you?’ asked the woman.

‘Apart from the money, good-looks and lifestyle? ‘

The words were intended to be light-hearted and jovial, but even to Faith they sounded unrefined.

‘My brother suffers from Muscular Dystrophy. Many young men do. It limits their life span. If I can get Brian to spend on research rather than champagne and caviar then there may be a chance the lives of people with this disorder can be changed. The attraction is Brian sits on a throne in a blessed position to financially help people that genuinely need it.’

Even the interviewer sat back sharply. Brian dropped Faith’s hand, feeling sick to the pit of his stomach. Had he got Faith so wrong? She sounded a callous and calculating woman, using him for her own gains. He’d donated $270,000, was she only wanting to drain his account dry?

The pain of her thoughtless rant was written on Brian’s face. Faith was nauseous. Nerves had taken a hold. She’d reverted to logic and ration. Everything spilled out wrong. The man that had made love to her, protected her when he thought she needed it, had a heart of gold. Misguided and childish, she intrinsically she knew there wasn’t a bad bone in his body.

‘I feel ill,’ muttered Faith, fleeing the room.

Brian was angry. Truthfully, he was disgusted by Faith demeaning him in front of another person, let alone in a publication that would be read by millions.

‘One moment,’ he said to the interviewer.

Strolling slowly out of the room, he went to the nearest set of public toilets. Knocking on the door, he called Faith’s name. His ears pricked to the sounds of crying and someone vomiting.

‘Faith, let me in.’

The door unlatched. As he entered, the girl that had only minutes earlier looked a professional model was crouched, facing the toilet bowl. He pulled her hair from her face and rubbed her back. Grateful it was nothing more than nerves. Faith hid her tear stain faced.

‘I can’t bear you seeing me like this.’

His tongue was ready to snap and say something cruel, but he sensed there was the hint of something critical to her endless ability to devote and commit to anyone in need that was close to breaking point.

‘What on Earth happened?’ he asked protectively, sitting on the floor of the private disabled cubicle with her.

‘I don’t know. I froze. I thought I was being funny but it sounded mean. Then I babbled.’

‘You babble when you’re nervous,’ consoled Brian.

‘You know that. You should’ve stopped me.’

‘Faith, you were determined to take control in the interview. Once you started speaking, the words snowballed. You were like a verbal steam roller.’

‘I didn’t mean for that. It’s too strange. How do you do it?’

‘I kind of threw myself in the spotlight at the age of sixteen. I had the means to buy my way out of any particularly damaging bad boy behavior. I had the ability to pay the people that had to be quiet to limit any repercussions of my actions. The reality TV, I liked and soon got used to it. I put up a front of being a bad, because women love a bad boy.’

‘They do, but they rarely settle down with one.’

‘I wish you’d said that in the interview.’

Faith smiled shyly.

‘Is that what you’d like? To settle down some day? Would someone like me make you settle down?’ asked Brian.

Nodding, she looked at the floor.

‘I’m finding it hard to discern between the public you and private you. I saw what you did to Beatrice Cranston.’

‘No, you didn’t. You read tabloid reports on a casual relationship. It was one actress selling her heartbreak for everyone to read. She was a woman that had very different ideas than mine pertaining to our involvement. Did you ever read an interview expressing my feelings on the break up with English Rose, Beatrice Cranston?’

In all honesty Faith knew she hadn’t. Not any response or flippant comment from him could she recall.

‘I think kiss and tells are tacky. What happens between two people is private. It’s why I hated you being pounced on outside the club. If people read it, we can expect to be hounded. That’s why the official route, however clinical and contrived, is the sensible option.’ said Brian.

Faith stood to look in the mirror. Reflected at her was a distraught, broken girl.

‘Sometimes when you don’t say anything people assume you don’t care. I bet that’s probably 95% of the reason behind your public image problems,’ said Faith, recharging her vigor.

‘It does have a lot to do with it, but I wouldn’t hide behind that theory. I’ve been immature and daft, believing myself to be educated by the university of life. In three days you’ve taught me how much I’ve missed out on. I’ve only seen the riches. I’ve bought my way into women’s hearts, paid my way into reckless games I wanted to partake in. I know I’m not perfect.’

‘If I’d brushed my teeth, I’d kiss you and tell you you’re perfect.’

‘That’s not real. That’s way too much pressure, Faith. I can’t live up to that. Believe me, my family have always been the first to point out my flaws.’

‘What if I said I think you are perfect, because you’re perfect for me?’

‘Well in that case.’

Throwing away her self-consciousness, Faith let Brian kiss her strongly on the lips. He physically stopped her resistance by keeping a firm hand on her neck in an attempt to affirm he found her beautiful and perfect whatever state she was in. Releasing her, she dropped her head, embarrassed by how gross she might appear and taste. Brian scanned the cubicle and laughed.

‘First Paulo’s Pizza, then sex in a suburban house, now kissing a woman in a public toilet cubicle. It doesn’t suggest the label of playboy billionaire does it?’

The comment generated the first genuine mirth on Faith’s face that afternoon.

‘I thought you said you were glad there were new things for you to try.’

‘I did, but I was thinking along the lines of racing in a formula one cars or eating toads in China.’

Faith grimaced.

‘Toad? Do people eat that?’ she asked incredulously.

‘They do.’

‘That hasn’t settled my stomach.’

He hugged her tight, affectionately but without any insinuation of it heading somewhere sexual. It was during these treasured moments when he prioritized her feelings over his libido that she knew for certain he was potential husband material.

‘How on Earth do I get us out of this?’ she wailed.

Brian hauled her up.

‘Mindful of what you said of people drawing the wrong conclusions if one stays silent. I’d suggest we go in and be honest. Say you were terrified of the interview, you were overwhelmed and having discussed it we feel the interview would be insightful and thorough if conducted on Friday after I’ve completed my week here.’

‘What if they print the interview anyway?’

‘They won’t!’

Faith didn’t know how he’d fix it but she was certain dwelling on her clumsy and callous attitude in the interview was a waste of energy.

True to his word, Brian sauntered in to approach Susie, who was flustered but chatting assuredly to the magazine folk. He conversed privately with her, then announced Faith was unwell. Unused to the situation Faith was unable to continue the interview until Friday after 9pm.