Page 16 of Fake Lemons Love and Luxury

WREN

T he sex was… everything. And now I can’t stop thinking about it. About him. His hands on my skin. His mouth. The way he whispered my name.

It replays in my head like a reel I can’t pause. The way his hand held the side of my face. His whisper of my name as he entered me. The way I didn’t want it to end.

Which is why I’ve been avoiding him now. It's childish and spineless, but I don't know how else to handle the hurricane of feelings threatening my walls.

I make sure to keep things brief and polite. Professional, like our initial goal when I employed him.

But goodness, it’s hard to do that. Hard to pretend not to melt under his blue gaze.

Hard to pretend my body doesn't come alive whenever he's near. Heavens knows it’s hard not to fall back into his arms again.

My body wants that more than anything, to relive some of that passion, to satisfy the ache in me.

Yet that small rational voice says to take a step back. Against my will, it reminds me of why I employed him. It reminds me of my situation. My lustful desires have clouded my vision and now we’ve crossed the threshold of pretend and real.

But knowing this and taking a step back hasn't been easy considering we’re living in the same house.

I almost packed up and left three times this week. I told myself I’d go back to my place with Eric but Talia said it’s too soon. That people are still watching. We need to ride this wave until launch.

“The press is still sniffing around your house,” she told me yesterday. “Better to lay low a while longer.”

Part of me suspects she's just enjoying the drama of the fake relationship becoming real, but I can't deny her PR instincts have been right so far. The plagiarism scandal has started to die down with Sean by my side, presenting a united front.

So I stay.

And avoid Sean like he’s the edge of a cliff I keep stumbling toward.

If only I could stop remembering how it felt to have him by my side, in my bed, his skin against mine.

I don't regret our night together. I want many more nights together, and what it would be like if our relationship were real. That realization scares me because I know better.

I know Sean isn't a man given to commitments. Jen has told me about meeting women in his life and neither of them stayed long enough. I’ve once witnessed him end things with a woman who wanted more.

It was the first woman I’d seen around him back then and I thought they were an attractive couple.

But I remember the aloof look in his eyes as he told her that he liked the sex but he couldn't give her more beyond that.

I fear it might break me if he said that to me. What if sex was what he wanted and I'm the one reading into things?

I sigh, checking my appearance in the bathroom mirror one last time. Dark circles beneath my eyes betray my lack of sleep, but nothing a little concealer can't fix. The navy pantsuit projects the confidence I need to channel today.

“You can do this,” I tell my reflection. “It's just business.”

But when I step out and see Sean in the kitchen, looking hot in a simple outfit of faded blue jeans and clean white shirt while helping Eric with breakfast, just business feels like the biggest lie I've ever told myself.

“Morning,” I say, keeping my voice neutral as I pour coffee.

“Hey. Sleep okay?”

“More or less.”

Sean pats my hand. “Don’t worry, the meeting will be a success.”

A thrill passes through me at his touch. For several seconds, I sit there staring at my hand, unable to move it, his brief warmth making my knees weak.

“Mommy, will you take me to school today?”

I blink, sipping the rest of my coffee.

“No, sweetie.” I ruffle his hair. “Busy with work stuff. I have an important meeting today.”

“You're always busy with work stuff,” he mumbles into his cereal.

The comment stings because it's true. But now isn't the time to unpack my mom guilt.

“Sean will take you to school, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I’ll pick you up from school.” I kiss the top of his head. “Be good today. I love you.”

“Love you too, mom.”

I grab my bag and head for the door.

“I’ll see you later at the office. Drive safe,” Sean’s baritone voice flows out to me as I skip out of the house.

Today’s investor meeting starts late. Someone’s flight got delayed, and the coffee machine is broken. Classic. My palms are clammy as I wait in the conference room, staring at the screen with our Lemon LLC deck pulled up, and twirling a granola bar I won’t eat.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I begin once we're settled. “Thank you for joining us today. Before we get to our exciting new developments, I'd like to address the recent challenges we've faced.”

“Regarding the social media influencer's plagiarism accusations," I continue, “our analyses show the negative press has decreased by sixty-three percent in the past week. Our transparency campaign has shifted the narrative.”

Murmurs. Nods.

Richard Barnes leans in. “And Camille Ross?”

“We found a potential connection of this being an orchestrated attack. We’re looking into the best way to reveal our findings and put an end to these accusations.”

Maxwell nods, impressed. “Well played.”

No resistance.

Good.

“As for our upcoming launch,” I pull up the timeline on the screen, “we're maintaining our original schedule. The Lemon Glow Line will debut in twenty-nine days. Early testing is showing promising results and engagement rates are already trending above Q1’s projections.”

I wait for protests, but none come.

Louis Laurent asks, “Production timeline still on track?”

“Yes. Our manufacturers confirmed yesterday that all units will be ready for distribution next week.”

The tension in the room eases. This is already going better than our last tense meeting that left most investors unsure due to the scandal. I signal to Raj and Simone to take over, and they stand together.

Raj taps the screen, and a new slide appears.

“While the Glow Line prepares for launch, we've been developing our next innovation as we all know.”

Simon clicks to the next slide. “We're calling it SkinSense.”

“SkinSense uses proprietary AI algorithms to analyze facial photographs and environmental factors,” Raj explains. “Users receive personalized skincare diagnostics and product recommendations based on their unique skin profile. Think Shazam, but for your face.”

A few chuckles.

Simone jumps in. “It’ll integrate real-time facial scanning with AI-backed suggestions. We’re training the engine on a combination of dermatological data and user-submitted input, so we can offer hyper-targeted product recommendations. It’s skincare made personal.”

Eliza Chen leans forward. “And privacy?”

“We’re building it with a full zero-data policy,” Simone says. “All scans are processed locally on the user’s device unless they opt in to share.”

Raj nods. “It’s tech-forward without being invasive. That’s our edge.”

“The app will integrate with our product line, of course,” Simone adds, “but also provide value through a subscription model for advanced features.”

The technical details flow as they explain the machine learning process, market positioning, and revenue projections. I watch the investors' faces, noting the spark of interest in their eyes.

“We've completed initial programming,” Raj says, “and are ready to begin beta testing next month.”

“Development costs?” asks Siobhan Yutes, eyeing the financial breakdown.

“Eight-point-two million for full development and marketing launch,” Henry Cho, our head of finance, answers. “We're proposing a fifteen percent ROI within the first eighteen months.”

“That's ambitious,” Louis Laurent notes.

“But achievable,” Henry counters. “The market analysis shows clear demand for personalized skincare technology. SkinSense fills a gap our competitors haven't adequately addressed.”

The questions continue for another forty minutes. They’re probing questions but not hostile. When Maxwell checks his wristwatch and says, “I think we've covered everything,” I allow myself to breathe.

“We'll review the proposal and get back to you next week,” Eliza says, gathering her papers. “But I must say, this is a significant improvement from our last meeting.”

The room settles. I scan their faces. No one looks skeptical. No one looks angry. It’s the first time in months I don’t feel like I’m being watched under a microscope.

Approval glows in the air like light.

We finish strong. Talia gives me a discreet thumbs-up. I smile.

The investors file out, stopping to shake hands and exchange pleasantries. When the last one leaves, my team erupts into relieved smiles.

“That went better than expected,” Talia whispers.

“Much better,” I agree, feeling the tension leaving my shoulders.

Raj grins. “They loved SkinSense.”

“They did. Your presentation was perfect.”

“Team effort.” He glances at Simone. “We should celebrate.”

“Drinks tonight?” Simone suggests.

“Count me in,” Talia says.

Henry raises a hand. “Yup, me too.”

“Wren, you should invite Jen too. It’s been a minute since we saw her around here.”

Talia rolls her eyes. “Just ask for her number already, Raj. How many years have you been crushing on her now?”

Raj flushes. “Who said I was?”

I chuckle. “Drink on my behalf, guys. I promised to pick Eric from work and spend the rest of the day together. And Jen is out of the state right now for a shoot.”

The team disperses after that and we return to our respective offices. Lily is on a call at her desk when I approach.

She ends the call and smiles.

“The look on your face tells me the meeting ended on a positive note.”

“It did. Everyone is happy. Our launch is on track and so is our next project.”

“That’s amazing news!” Lily claps her hands. “So what will you do about Camille Ross now? Will you let the whole thing die on its own or?”

“We know who's behind her and we will?—”

Sean appears. “Hey.”

I force a smile. “Hey.”

“Got a minute?”

My stomach tightens. “Just one. I have calls to return.”

We slip into my office. Sean closes the door, and the space feels too small, too intimate.

“Congratulations. Talia told me the meeting went well” he says. “That was a win you needed.”

“Thanks. Your input helped.”

He settles into the chair opposite me. “So you gonna keep avoiding me?”

I don’t look at him, skimming through the documents on my table without paying much attention to it. “I’m not.”

“Wren.”

I meet his gaze.

His dark blue eyes are steady. “Is it time yet?”

“Time?”

“To talk about what happened between us.”

I sigh, crossing my arms. “I'm not sure there's much to say.”

“It seems like there is since again, you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I've been busy.”

“For the past seven days?” His voice is gentle but persistent. “We live in the same house right now, and you've managed to never be alone with me.”

Heat rises to my face. “Fine. Yes, I've been avoiding you.”

“Why?”

The question hangs between us. Why indeed? Because I can't think straight around him? Because one night has dismantled the careful boundaries of our arrangement? Because I'm terrified of what it means that I want it to happen again?

“It was a mistake.” The words roll out of me, leaving a sour taste on my tongue. “One that won't happen again.”

His jaw tightens. His expression clouds. Is it hurt or disappointment that flashed in those eyes? I’m not sure but it smoothens as fast as it appeared.

“I see.”

“Our arrangement is professional, Sean. Getting... physical complicates things.”

“It already is complicated,” he points out.

“All the more reason not to make it worse.” I check my watch, needing an escape. “I really do have calls waiting.”

He studies me for a long moment, then nods once. “If that's what you want.”

“It is.”

He rises to his feet. “Then consider the subject closed.”

The words should bring relief. Instead, they leave me hollow.

Sean walks to the door, then pauses. “For what it's worth, Wren, I don't think it was a mistake.”

Before I can respond, he's gone.

And it takes everything in me not to call after him.

I sink deeper into my chair, feeling exhausted. The meeting's success fades against the heaviness in my chest.

I should feel better. Like I’ve taken back control.

But all I feel is a loud, overwhelming, and mocking emptiness.

I press my palms against my eyes. Everything is such a mess. My company is at last recovering from the scandal. My son needs stability. My fake relationship is spinning out of control. And now my heart is involved in ways I never anticipated.

The last time I gave my heart to someone, he walked away. I swore I'd never put myself in that position again, never risk Eric experiencing that kind of abandonment twice.

Sean isn't Eric's father. He isn't even my boyfriend. He's a business arrangement with benefits I never should have sampled.

So why can't I stop imagining what it would be like if it were real? If the man who looks at me like I'm something precious, who plays soccer with my son, who stands beside me when my world is crumbling, was mine?

I shake my head, squaring my shoulders.

Whatever I'm feeling for Sean needs to be locked away. I have too much at stake to risk it all on something that was never meant to last.

Still, why does doing the right thing feel so wrong?