Page 41 of Fake Dating Mr. Prince

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Dean

My sneakers poundedthe surface of the treadmill. I decided to use the company gym during my late lunch break. Working out typically cleared my head.

But still, I couldn't stop thinking about Ashlyn. Why did I struggle to keep my mind off of her and my mystery lady? Both women ran from me and had a thing for underwear with empowering messages. I couldn’t shake this feeling that they were one and the same.

I was clearly off my game. I was a fucking Prince, for crying out loud. Women rantome. Notfromme. The first time I found one I really wanted for a change, and all she did was run.

Although, there was one woman I wished would run away. Simone. She’d texted me today with her flight information like I’d been waiting on pins and needles for it. I promptly deleted it. I think she expected me to offer her a ride home from the airport. She didn’t seem to understand that I wanted to stay as far away from her as I could.

Almost immediately after ignoring Simone’s messages, my father stopped by my office. He wanted to know if I had any further plans to repair my image or get Simone to print a retraction. I admitted I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, and Simone was my last resort.

My gut told me there was something else she wanted. For now, my plan was to avoid her and come up with another way to get the board and Jules D’Amboise to see me as the serious businessman I was.

I changed the program of the treadmill to include a faster speed and alternating intervals. Until now, the physical exercise hadn’t wiped my mind clear or helped to provide me with a solution.

For the next thirty minutes, I ran. Each time thoughts of Ashlyn or Simone crossed my mind, I ruthlessly shoved them away.

I slowed down the treadmill when my watch vibrated, indicating I had a call. I threw the towel I’d hung over the bar of the treadmill around my neck, trying to wipe away the sweat that ran down my chest. Without anyone in the gym with me, I answered and put the caller on speakerphone.

“What’s going on, Henri?”

“Dean, how are things?” Henri’s voice echoed in the quiet space.

“You know how it’s going. Have you been by to see Jules D’Amboise again?”

Henri snorted on the other end. “I have.”

“And?”

“He, of course, loves my design skills and realizes that merging with PI would have benefits, but he’s still not sure about you, my friend.”

“What the fuck, Henri? What am I supposed to do? Make nice with Simone, the woman who stomped all over our relationship, just to look like less of an asshole to the American public?” I slammed my fist against the treadmill. “I can’t.”

“Even if she is your last resort, don’t go there. She’s vicious.”

I shook my head at my young foolishness. “Yeah, you and Kyle were the only two never taken in by her.”

“You forget she and I ran in some of the same circles. I’ve seen her get what she wants regardless of the cost.”

“And tell me again why I didn’t believe you?” I rubbed at the back of my neck. Why had I been so blind? When two of my best friends told me to stay clear of Simone, I ignored them, thinking I saw a different side to her.

“Love. It made you blind to her faults.”

I groaned. “Never again, man. I’m so done with the whole commitment thing.”

“Never say never, Dean.”