ALINA WRITES IN HER JOURNAL TO VOID: "I have sometimes had experiences where, in hindsight, I wondered if I had misunderstood the situation. Perhaps I had misheard the conversation. This is what she thought of the conversation with Ryan and Mr. LaMont. But every time I replayed the conference call in my head, I came to the same conclusion: Ryan Strong had asked me to pretend to marry him on business. But then I thought it couldn't be true. He was my boss. He was a man. Serious, focused and with integrity. I couldn't have suggested going to Italy to get married, also the love I feel for that hybrid being is enormous...
For the rest of the day, I discussed with myself what had happened. And when I was walking home, I still couldn't be sure that he meant what he said or that I understood what he meant. The only solution was to tell my sister and see what he thought. Natalie was more than my sister and roommate; she was also my best friend. I trusted her and felt that she could help me resolve this confusion with my boss.
--Did he say that? Could he get away with a fake marriage if she couldn't get a license? she asked, as she brushed one of her lavender curls out of her face. She sat in one of our mismatched dining room chairs, one foot on the seat. She was drinking tea from a cup of psychedelic coffee that she had made in seventh grade.
--Yeah. Then she told me how important the company was to him and that he would give me a bonus. "I poured the cooked fettuccine into the colander and put it back in the pot--
--I don't know how you could have misunderstood it-- I think it's clear.
I put the sauce on the spaghetti and mix.
"Then I guess I have to decide whether I'll do it or not."
--Of course you will. He got up, put the cup on the table and went to get the forks from the drawer to set the table.
"What does that mean, of course?" I frowned at him.
"Did you miss the part where he said he was going to give you a bonus?" "I should borrow enough to pay off his student loan. Maybe even negotiate a raise. You know, our rent is going to go up soon. The stupid landlord
--She was right. A financial bonus could be of great help to us. I was paid well enough as Ryan's assistant, but it was expensive to live in San Diego and I had big student loans.
"But we're lying," I said, serving the spaghetti on plates and handing one to Natalie.
"I don't see it that way." If there really is a ceremony, it is not a lie. The only lie is that you two aren't in love, but it's not hard to pretend you love Ryan Strong.
I sat at the table and looked at her.
--That? she asked herself, twirling her fork in the noodles.
"Why should it be easy to pretend to love my boss?"
"Because he's good." And he's rich. And he's nice to you. She spoke as if what she was saying was obvious enough. I'm not wrong. much bigger against him: he was my boss there is my paranormal love. Also, he never gave me any hint that he was attracted to me. No sidelong glances. No appreciative glances at my body. No unwanted friction. Well, his His hand was on mine during the call, but it wasn't like he was flirting with me, he was trying to close a deal, and you're not a bad catch either.
--Professional?
Nat rolled her eyes.
"It's okay to go to work, but you need to relax a bit." Find your style.
I looked at her, dressed in old paint-stained denim overalls.
--I'm not sure I should follow Natalie's blueberry fashion tips.
--You know that when I go out I am much more organized. These are my work clothes, just like schoolgirl clothes are yours. I am lucky to be an artist and to be able to wear what is comfortable.
She was probably right. I was pretty conservative with my clothes. However, that was not the point of this conversation.
--So you think I should participate in this hoax?--
--Obviously. In addition to the money you need, take a trip to Italy. She sat up and sighed. I would like to go to Italy. I would like to see David up close. Do you know that his hands are very big?
--Is that a code for something?--
"Well no, because you can see the bulk of him and he's not huge." However, everyone I've met who has seen it in person says it's impressive. Also, there is a lot of art to visit there.
"Maybe you should go to my house." I took a bite of my spaghettis.
--Obviously. Do you think I could do it? Dutiful assistant to a billionaire? I chewed my food instead of responding. Obviously. Can't. Besides, that guy you're trying to cheat on probably knows you, so I can't pretend to be you while pretending to marry your boss.
--I was right again. Mr. LaMont had seen me on the video conference
"I wonder if it's a good time of year to visit Italy," she mused aloud. Then she laughed. Gosh, even if it rained, a bad day in Italy is probably better than a good day in most other places.
She still wasn't sure what to do, but at least she had Nat's support in whatever she decided.
That night, I lay in bed wondering how I could do it if I got past the ethical issue. What would she be like to be married to Ryan Strong? There were many things that attracted me to the subject; She loved her family and adored her grandmother. He was busy in the family business and worked very hard. When he wasn't lost in his work den, he could be funny and he was very generous as a boss. But that was the point. He was my boss. Could you see him as a husband? And what of the missing hybrid?
I worked to get the idea that he was my boss out of my head. I imagined meeting him outside the office, where we were just a man and a woman. Will he find him attractive? Okay, yes. He looked like a guy from Southern California, with blond hair and blue eyes, though he didn't have the laid-back surfer vibe associated with Southern California men. His suit always hung well on his broad shoulders.
I once caught him walking out of the company gym and looking at the sculpted muscles in his shoulders and arms. Yes, if I had met him elsewhere, I would have been attracted to him.
I tried to imagine what this fake marriage would be like. Italy was a catholic country, so we would have had different rooms until the ceremony, right? On the other hand, Mr. LaMont was French and they seemed to have a pretty laid back attitude towards sex. What would it be like to share a room with Ryan? Would he sleep in his pajamas or naked? I remembered a flash of his strong arms, which I then extrapolated to invade him in all his glory. In my mind, not only his hands were big, but also other parts....
I felt my cheeks flush as I realized I was getting turned on by imagining my boss. Laughing to myself, I rolled over in bed to try to get some sleep. Tomorrow he should have known what she had decided. I was hoping the answer would come to me while I was sleeping.
As I fell asleep, a vision of Tuscany filled my head. She was beautiful, and she was walking with Ryan through the lush countryside. The flowers sprouted in brilliant colors. In the distance he saw rows and rows of vines.
Suddenly, the sun and the blue sky disappeared, replaced by gray clouds and it began to rain.
"Does the rain bother you?" I wonder.
I raised my head, savoring the cool drops on my face.
--Do not do. A rainy day in Italy is still better than a good day elsewhere.
- he laughed and that made me look. His shirt was gone, revealing his smooth chest and perfectly sculpted muscles that would make Michelangelo weep at his beauty. I reached out, running my fingers across his chest.
"When was the last time you had sex?" he asked. He laughed again.
"I'm more interested next time." His arm wrapped around me and pulled me against his body. His lips flattened against mine. Delicious sensations flowed throughout my body.
He spun me around and crashed into a tree trunk. He lifted up my dress, took off my panties, and sat me inside. My breasts were free and he sucked on them, making me moan. So his penis was out.
"Will you help me..." she asked, tugging at my nipple with her teeth.
I wrapped my legs around his hips and pulled him towards me. His penis filled me up. The rain fell on his back as he held onto it. Thunder roared in the distance, but all the electricity I felt was between our bodies as he pumped into me, over and over again, pushing me up until I sat on the edge of the sweetest oblivion.
He thrust hard and I gasped as my orgasm overwhelmed me. My pussy was shaking. My blood flowed like a hot stream of molten lava.
I jumped up and got up.
It was not in a field in Italy. I was in my bed in San Diego. I had just had an erotic dream with my boss.
--Oh shit. "I lay on the bed", I had an orgasm while dreaming about my boss. I felt ashamed, even though there was no one to testify. She had never thought of him as an object of desire, and now she wasn't sure how she could look at him and not want to jump on him. Do you realize that you stay?
I felt a little frustrated. How could I pretend now that you were his girlfriend? I guess wishing would make the relationship seem real, but shit, he was my boss. She could only imagine what he would do if he found out that he found him sexy. Probably laugh and No, don't laugh.... He was too good for that. But he would have reassigned me to another position in the company. God, what a fool he was.
I rubbed my hands over my face and then wished that the dream was a dreamless dream..." and it would go away