The Meeting

Ava.

The gentle hum of my office couldn't mask the tension that crackled through the air as Alex sauntered in, looking infuriatingly composed. I straightened in my chair, determined not to let him see how his mere presence set my nerves on edge.

"Ava," he greeted, that trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Lovely as always."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Let's skip the pleasantries, Russo. What's this about?"

Alex settled into the chair across from me, crossing his legs with an elegance that shouldn't be legal. "Why, our engagement, of course. We need to discuss our public appearances."

"Public appearances?" I echoed, disbelief coloring my voice. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." His blue eyes glinted with something I couldn't quite name. Amusement? Challenge? "This is a golden opportunity, Ava. We'd be fools not to capitalize on it."

I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Enlighten me, then. How exactly do you propose we 'capitalize' on this farce?"

Alex's grin widened as he launched into his pitch. Numbers, projections, potential publicity stunts – all laid out with a precision that reminded me why he was such a formidable opponent in the boardroom.

"Think about it," he continued, leaning forward. "Joint appearances at charity galas, coordinated press releases about our 'shared vision' for clean energy. The public eats this stuff up."

"God, you can take me now," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

Alex's chuckle grated on my last nerve. "Come on, Ava. You know I'm right. This could fast-track our project like nothing else."

I hated to admit it, but he had a point. The numbers didn't lie. Still, the thought of playing happy couple with Alex Russo made my skin crawl. Or was that just what I told myself?

"I don't know, Alex," I sighed, hating the uncertainty in my voice.

He frowned, a rare break in his usual smugness. "What do you mean? This is a win-win for both our companies. Plus, celebrities do this all the time for personal gain-"

"We are not celebrities," I cut him off, my voice flat.

Alex sat back, folding his legs elegantly. That damn smirk was back. "But we are bloody rich."

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air between us. Then he broke the quietude, "This is just for a while. After the Pure Energy deal is sealed, we call it quits, yunno, break up, and everyone goes back to their lives."

Something in my chest tightened at his casual mention of breaking up. Wasn't that what I wanted?

I shook my head, meeting his gaze. "Fine, let's do it. But how am I supposed to deal with my father? He's planning a wedding as we speak."

Alex shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. "That's your problem. Handle it however you want." The amusement in his voice made me want to slap that smirk right off his face.

One thing was certain: there were only two ways this arrangement would end – either we'd get what we wanted, or one of us would end up committing murder.

"God help me," I sighed, already regretting my decision.

____________________________________________________________________

Vivian.

The soft glow of candlelight danced across Alex's chiseled features as we sat in Seattle's most exclusive restaurant. I couldn't help but stare, still in awe that this man was mine. Well, supposedly mine.

"So, tell me about Paris," Alex said, his voice like velvet. "I want to hear everything."

I launched into my stories, the excitement of the fashion shows and photoshoots bubbling out of me. Alex listened intently, his blue eyes never leaving mine. But I couldn't shake the feeling that part of him was elsewhere.

A waiter approached, refilling our wine glasses. As he left, I caught the whispers from a nearby table.

"Isn't that Alex Russo?"

"I thought he was engaged to Ava Silver..."

"What's he doing here with her?"

"I think that's his ex–"

My smile faltered. Alex noticed immediately, his hand covering mine on the table.

"Hey," he said softly, "what's wrong?"

I bit my lip, hating how easily he could read me. "It's just... people are talking. About you and Ava Silver."

Alex's thumb traced circles on my hand, sending shivers down my spine. "Vivian, look at me."

I did, helpless to resist.

"It's nothing," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Just a business arrangement for the company. You know you're the only one that matters to me."

His words washed over me, soothing my fears. How did he always know exactly what to say?

"But the engagement-" I started.

"Is fake," he finished. "A publicity stunt for our clean energy project. Nothing more."

I nodded, wanting desperately to believe him. But a small part of me couldn't help but wonder...

"Mr. Russo?" A voice interrupted us. We looked up to see a young woman, phone in hand. "I'm sorry to bother you, but could I get a picture? My friends will never believe I saw you!"

Alex's charming smile was back in an instant. "Of course," he said smoothly.

As he stood for the photo, the woman's eyes darted to me, then back to Alex. "Is this uh... are you here with Ava Silver?"

I felt my cheeks burn. Alex's hand was on my shoulder in an instant, his touch possessive. Our eyes met, and I waited, heart pounding, palms suddenly clammy. What would he say?

"Oh no, Ava isn't here," Alex replied, his voice smooth as silk. "This is my friend, Vivian."

Friend. The word hit me like a physical blow. I swallowed hard, my heart aching, my stomach in knots. I needed air, but I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

I watched, unable to look away, as Alex posed for the photo. His arm slid around the young woman's slim waist, pulling her close. Too close. The easy familiarity of his touch, the way his fingers splayed across her hip - it was all too much. My chest tightened, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I gripped the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white, as I forced myself to keep smiling. After all, wasn't that what a supportive "friend" would do?

As they finished, I desperately tried to remind myself of Alex's words from this morning. "I'm the only one for him, he said so. All this is temporary," I repeated in my head like a mantra.

Alex took his seat, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he'd just caused in my fragile heart.

He smiled at me, all charm and ease. "Sorry about that."

I forced a smile in return, but beneath it, my vulnerability lingered. Why wasn't he explaining? Shouldn't he apologize for calling me just a friend? Offer some kind of reassurance? But he just sat there, acting as if none of it mattered.

"It's fine," I heard myself say, the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.

Alex nodded, already moving on. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, you were telling me about that fashion show in Paris..."

As he continued talking, his voice washed over me. I nodded at the right moments, smiled when expected, but inside, doubts swirled.

What was I doing here? What were we, really? And how long could I keep pretending that being Alex Russo's "friend" was enough?

***