The Pact

FRANCESCA

I swear, God must be having a good laugh at my expense.

I can’t figure out what I did in a past life to deserve this, but here I am, stuck at Beth’s bridal shower.

After spending six weeks in Leo’s swanky mansion, you’d think I’d be accustomed to the high life. But it’s the complete opposite.

I’m perched in a posh ballroom in the heart of London, with Lily at my side, complaining about her lace dress and the subpar alcohol.

“Seriously, what is this crap?”

“I don’t know, Lil. I think it’s a mimosa.”

“I can barely taste the alcohol. I thought this was supposed to be a bachelorette party.”

“This is a bridal shower,” Beth’s friend Jacklyn retorts.

“And when does the actual fun begin?” Lily asks, keeping a straight face. I have to bite my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

Jacklyn huffs and walks away, leaving Lily to groan into her champagne glass.

“Seriously. Is it just me?”

“No. I’m bored out of my mind too, but—”

“Beth is too nice. It’s unnatural.”

“Right?”

“It’s nauseating. My brother doesn’t deserve her.”

“Well, if she makes him happy—”

“Still?” Lily interrupts me, and I can’t meet her gaze.

“What?” I mumble.

“You know what, Frankie.”

I finally look up at her, and my face must say it all. Her expression falls, and she sets down her champagne glass to pull me into a comforting hug.

“Okay, there’s not enough alcohol here. I’m going to fix this.” Lily gives me a tight squeeze before releasing me from the hug and heading towards the bride.

***

Thanks to Lily’s insistence, we end up at a London boutique that sells scraps of fabric masquerading as designer dresses.

Beth, Evelyn, Jacklyn, and the rest of Beth’s guests have already chosen their “dresses,” the tight spandex hugging their slender figures.

“Frankie, hurry up and get dressed!”

“I’m not wearing that!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Lily, I can’t afford a dress that pricey.”

“Lily, Frankie, the girls are getting a bit restless.” Beth appears behind Lily, looking anxious.

“Why are they restless? Were they actually enjoying the watered-down alcohol and string quartet?”

Beth tries to suppress a laugh, and I roll my eyes at Lily’s frankness.

“Look, Beth, I promise you the best bachelorette party ever. I just need to get Frankie dressed and out the door.”

Lily taps her foot impatiently at me.

“Why can’t I just wear what I have on?” I glance down at my classy pale-blue sundress, which I bought on sale.

I bought it specifically for this trip. I was hoping it would be Leo who would appreciate it, not his fiancée.

“No.” Lily shoves the red material in my face again. “Get moving.”

It’s not the revealing nature of the clothes that bothers me, it’s the price tag.

Okay, the clingy fabric itself looks better on certain people. I’m all curves; I have big breasts and a big ass.

Normally I’m comfortable with my body, but being around these skinny British brunettes is making me feel self-conscious.

Knowing I’ll be on the receiving end of one of Lily’s lectures if I don’t comply, I sigh, grab the material from her hand, and retreat into the changing room.

I have to jump and wiggle to get into the tight dress. I even bang my elbow on the side of the changing room a few times.

The end result is a skin-tight skirt that ends just below my butt and a halter neck that barely covers my breasts, leaving a diamond shape of skin exposed on my midriff.

I smooth out the fabric as best I can before taking one last look in the mirror.

I have to admit I look hot, but the price of the dress is a buzzkill.

“Frankie!” Lily yells from outside the door.

“I’m coming.” I groan as I step out of the changing room.

“See! What were you worried about? You look amazing.”

“I’m not worried about how I look, Lil. I’m worried about the price,” I whisper, hoping not to be overheard by Beth’s snooty sister and friends.

“Let’s go, ladies!” Lily ignores me as she rounds up our group and leads us to the waiting party bus.

“Oh, my goodness.” Beth gasps, a grin spreading across her face.

At least she’s having a good time.

It takes three credit cards to get me out of the store and into the limo. By some cruel twist of fate, I end up sandwiched between Evelyn and Jacklyn.

“So, Frankie, do you have a boyfriend?” Evelyn asks.

“Do you?” I mutter.

“What was that?”

“No, I don’t,” I say a bit louder.

“Oh, well, that’s too bad,” Jacklyn snickers, and Lily jumps into our conversation.

“Are you kidding? It means I can live vicariously through her. I’m going to make sure Francesca gets good and laid.”

“Thanks, Lil.” I laugh softly, and Evelyn and Jacklyn, much to my delight, start ignoring me.

The club is exclusive, and the line outside stretches for almost two blocks.

Luckily, thanks to the rock on Beth’s finger and her fiancé’s name, we don’t have to wait. We breeze past the intimidating bouncer and straight into the club.

I feel at ease in the atmosphere inside. It’s loud, the bass is thumping, and it’s packed enough that you’re basically grinding against everyone you pass.

We head straight for the bar, and Lily lets out a cheer as she's handed a drink that meets her approval. I get my scotch on the rocks, and we clink our glasses together in a toast.

“Thank you!” Beth yells over the music, pulling Lily and me into a tight hug. “This is amazing. Evelyn would never do something this down-to-earth. She's too snobby and materialistic.”

Beth drags Lily onto the dance floor, and I lean back against the bar, watching them. I can't help but laugh as Lily shows Beth her best dance moves, both of them having the time of their lives.

“You have to admit this is actually fun.” Jacklyn’s voice floats over from a few people down the bar. I stay where I am, listening in.

“Of course it's fun. But I'm trying to show Leo that Beth is dull, not that she's spontaneous and carefree,” Evelyn retorts.

“His best friend is a nuisance.”

“She’s an unfortunate tagalong. When Leo mentioned Frankie, I assumed he was talking about a guy.”

“Have you made any progress with Christian yet?”

“No.” Evelyn groans. “I don’t think the rumors are true. He's supposed to be this incredible womanizer who will sleep with anyone, but I can’t get him to even glance my way.”

“What's your plan?”

“The usual. Sleep with him, convince him I’m pregnant, marry him, fake a miscarriage, spend all his money.” Evelyn laughs, and I cringe.

This woman is insane.

“When does he leave?”

“The day after the wedding.”

“So, you have two weeks?”

“Two weeks,” Evelyn echoes.

I shake my head at her desperation and down my drink.

Over the past six weeks, Christian and I have shared some pleasant moments.

The day after Leo’s family arrived, we visited a bookstore in Greenwich and picked out a complete hardcover set of Harry Potter books.

I’m still not entirely sure if Christian was just indulging me, but he bought them anyway.

We have breakfast in the rose garden every day before he retreats to his bedroom with his laptop and phone, taking care of business.

Three nights ago, he insisted on taking me to dinner. Even though I declined, we ended up watching The Lion King in the theater room.

I'm still unsure about him, but if he's good enough for Leo, there must be something redeeming about him.

I could maybe overlook our initial encounters and focus on the gentleman he's been lately.

“Can I get you another?” A male voice interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see a man with black hair and a gray suit smirking at me.

Seriously, what's with these businessmen? Did they all take a class on smirking?

“I can get my own.”

“Please? It would be a crime for such a beautiful woman to have to buy her own drink.”

“Aren’t you smooth?” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Another, Frankie?” the bartender interrupts, setting down another glass of scotch on the rocks.

Club Rule One: Always make friends with the bartender.

“Thanks, Craig.” I wink at him before downing the amber liquid.

“Care to dance?” Gray Suit asks, not getting the hint.

“Actually, I’m going to run to the restroom. But thank you.”

I leave the bar, leaving Gray Suit sulking and Craig-the-Bartender chuckling to himself.

I'm no stranger to the club scene. In fact, I probably know it better than most.

That's why I feel so at ease as I weave through the crowds of people. I can read the crowd easily and navigate through the drunks without getting splashed with various drinks.

I push open the door to the ladies’ restroom, and my heels click on the floor as I walk in. The restroom is as extravagant as the club outside.

I'm surprised at how much stuff women apparently need when going to the bathroom. There are hair dryers, fancy-lit mirrors with makeup and perfume nearby, and even a couch.

I do a double take at the couch in the corner of the room and gasp. I start to back toward the door as I realize what I've walked in on.

My back hits the door just as one of the people on the couch moans.

“Oh, Mr. Chambers!”

Chambers?

“Leo!” My shriek causes the couple to spring apart.

“Frankie?” Leo’s eyes widen in panic as he looks at me.

“What the hell—”

“What are you doing here?” Leo interrupts.

“I’m here for Beth’s bachelorette party.”

“Beth’s here?” Leo stands, the blonde girl who was on top of him falling to the floor in just her bra.

I quickly look away from Leo’s lower half, which is prominently displayed through his suit pants.

“Can you…you know?” I gesture vaguely in the direction of his pants.

“Oh!” Leo quickly adjusts himself. “Frankie, it isn't what it looks like.”

“So, you weren’t fucking someone who isn't your fiancée two weeks before your wedding?”

“She's just a stripper,” Leo says quickly.

His words sting more than he could possibly know, and I can't hide my reaction. Leo misinterprets my expression as judgment.

“I know it looks bad, but the guys, they ordered a stripper. What was I supposed to do?” Leo smirks and shrugs, and I feel my anger rising.

“Fuck her, obviously,” I scoff. “Beth is perfect, Leo. How could you do this to her?”

“Frankie…” Leo reaches out for me, but I step back, pushing his hands away.

“No. Don’t. This isn't you, Leo. This isn't my best friend—”

“Frances—”

“No! I'll stay for your wedding, Leo, but I'm staying for Beth and Lily and your parents. After this, we're done. If you want to be the guy I fell in love with, let me know.”

The words spill from my lips, and Leo’s eyes grow wide with understanding. Before he can respond, I bolt from the bathroom.

Stupid!

I berate myself as I race back down the hallway. I just caught my best friend cheating on his fiancée, and to make matters worse, I confessed to him that I see him as more than a friend, that I’m in love with him.

I quickly say goodbye to Beth and Lily. Thanks to their tipsy state and the blaring music, they don’t question my abrupt departure.

I stumble onto the curb, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I bite my cheek, trying to keep myself from breaking down right there on the streets of London.

“What’s a pretty lady doing all alone?”

I groan as I turn to see Gray Suit, hands in his pockets, leering at me.

“I’m Joe.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Don’t be like that, baby.” Joe steps closer, a smirk playing on his lips.

I brace myself, ready to push him away.

“Gattina?”

I relax at the sound of Christian’s voice, though I can’t help but flinch when his hands grip my waist tightly.

“Chris!” Joe, the man in the gray suit, grins at Christian over my shoulder. Christian’s hold on my waist tightens.

“Joe, why are you bothering Francesca?”

“Bothering? I’m not bothering her. We were just chatting. Actually, we were getting along quite well,” Joe says, his gaze dropping to my cleavage.

Christian pulls me against his chest, and I don’t resist.

“What are you wearing, kitten?” Christian murmurs in my ear, his breath against my neck sending a shiver down my spine.

His hand drops to the hem of my short skirt, brushing against my ass. “Such a naughty girl.”

Joe clears his throat, and Christian straightens, turning his attention back to Mr. Gray Suit.

“We’re leaving,” he declares.

“Maybe I wasn’t done talking to Francesca,” Joe says, reaching for my hand.

“Yes, you were,” Christian growls, but Joe ignores him, continuing to pull at my wrist.

“No, I was just about to—”

Joe’s sentence is cut short as Christian’s hand leaves my waist, only to curl into a fist and strike him across the face.

Joe crumples to the ground, and I’m swept up into Christian’s arms. He steps over Joe’s unconscious body and heads toward a waiting limo.

I could resist him. I could demand he put me down. I could find my own way home. But…

“I’ve got you, gattina.”