Page 7 of Once Upon a Beast

“Again, I doubt it. She’s coming here. We’ll all discuss this and it’ll be okay.”

“Okay? You’re asking your daughter to marry me in order to help me out of a scandal. I don’t think that qualifies as something that will be okay,” I said.

“We’ve been over this. She doesn’t have to actually marry you. You’ll announce that you are engaged, no one needs to know it isn’t true.”

“How is this going to make the story go away? How is this going to fix anything? It will only make things more complicated, not only for me but for your daughter. Especially your daughter.”

“You always did look out for her,” James said with a chuckle.

He had a huge smile on his face and his stomach bobbed as he laughed. I wasn’t sure what he was smiling about or how he thought this was funny. James wasn’t a man who normally laughed but he seemed to think the whole situation was more of a joke than anything. He was sure that there wasn’t anything to worry about. It unnerved me how unworried he was about me seeing Layla and what it would all mean.

“I will always care about Layla. I will always want what is best for her. I can’t see how this is the best thing for her,” I said.

“Come on, what woman wouldn’t love to spend time with a good-looking man, going out, seeing the world, being seen, going to the best restaurants, and having the time of her life?” James asked.

“Your daughter,” I said. He knew his daughter as well as I did. Layla wouldn’t want to do any of those things.

“She will see, as you do, how important this is. This is the only way to make it go away and end this false story before it gets legs. She’ll think it’s like one of the novels she loves to read. It will all be very romantic, or at least we will make it look that way. She can live in that fantasy for a while and then when everything has calmed down and the deal is done, you both can go back to your lives.”

James made it sound so easy, so simple. I wanted to believe that he was right. I wanted a way out of this. I wanted to find a way to be with Layla. I just didn’t think this was my best option. I hated having to lie to her. We had always been honest with each other and this seemed like one big lie.

Having to pretend to be engaged to Layla would be too close to what I always wanted to have, her in my arms. I knew I would have no difficulty looking like a man in love with her. The world would quickly see how much I cared for her, how she was my everything. James was right, convincing the world of that wouldn’t be hard.

I was worried about how I wasn’t going to be able to turn it off when we were alone. We may not have talked for years, but Layla still knew me better than anyone else. She could look at me and know when I was lying, when I was hiding something. I would be doing both with her. She would see right through my charade as soon as it started, and I couldn’t have that.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be with Layla. I just didn’t want it to be this way. I thought of countless different scenarios where I would win back her friendship and hopefully her love. This was not the way as it had such potential to blow up in my face. I only had one shot to win her and I was worried this would ruin it.

It was why I had spent the better part of the day trying to convince James to come up with another idea. I hadn’t been able to and it looked like I wasn’t going to.

“I’m telling you she isn’t going to go for it,” I said one last time.

“Well, it looks like we’re going to find out because she’s on her way up,” James said.

Chapter 4

Layla

I didn’t allow myself to look at Nic when I walked into his penthouse. It was enough of a shock to be in his place, to know that I was going to be talking to him, I needed a moment before I looked at him too.

The penthouse was simply decorated and my first thought was that it fit Nic and his tastes. There were no expensive paintings on the walls, there was hardly any art to be found. It certainly didn’t look like a medieval castle full of gothic decorations as had been speculated in the tabloids and even by my friends. It looked like a typical apartment. The open-air style flowed from the entryway to the kitchen and its long countertops with an island in the middle. The kitchen table was expansive and took up most of the far corner where the views of the Hudson River and the Palisades could be seen through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The living room was just as impressive with its dark brown leather couches, coffee tables, and flat screen television. I didn’t take Nic to be a man who would sit and watch television in the evening but maybe he had changed in the ten years since we had talked.

“Thank you so much for coming, sweetie,” my father said as he hugged me.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on and why you summoned me here?” I leaned away from him.

I needed to see his caring eyes, his understanding smile, the quiet strength he had always conveyed. I needed all of that if I was going to get through being in the same room with Nic again. I hadn’t even looked at him and already my heart was racing. I could feel my palms getting sweaty and my breath was shallow. I had no idea how I was going to have a conversation with him when I couldn't even look at him.

“Why don’t you come in and sit down,” my father suggested.

It was then that I looked over to see Nic standing off to one side. If I hadn’t known he was there, I might have missed him. He was standing in the shadows as if he was trying to hide from me. It fit his MO for the last ten years so it shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. I didn’t think he would cower; he wasn’t a man who did, or at least I thought he didn’t. It made me think that maybe he had been disfigured somehow and he didn’t want me to see him.

“Hello, Nic. So nice to see you. How have things been?” I asked sarcastically. I found it easier to concentrate on my anger than my fear.

“Layla,” he said slowly and softly.

As he spoke, he stepped out of the shadows and my breath caught in my throat. It might have been ten years since I had seen him, but he still looked the same and yet completely different. He had always been tall, but his five-foot-eleven height seemed even more massive with his broad shoulders and chest. He had been a bit of a scrawny kid but I could see that was no longer the case. His hair was a bit unruly and hung in small waves down his back. He had a beard. It wasn’t messy, as if he just didn’t care about his appearance, but trimmed and shaped around his face. It helped to bring out the brown in his eyes. Eyes I had seen filled with laughter and kindness all those years ago. As I looked into them, I could tell he was the same man I had known most of my life and missed desperately.

I had so many questions for him. How was he doing? Had he talked to his father at all? What had he been doing the last ten years? Why didn’t he go out? Did he stay in contact with any of our friends? Why did he let my father into his life but not me? Did he miss me? Had he thought about me at all? Did he even care about me? Why had he ghosted me as if our friendship didn’t matter? What was he doing now? What did he want to do next?