"Cat?"

I'm trying my best. No. My utmost to fend off the lingering image of two of my friends making out in broad daylight right in front of me.

I may be twenty-one but bearing witness to what just went down will haunt me for the rest of my days; prior to this moment, I had pictured Celia and Patrick as singing buddies belting karaoke tunes off tune.

The only other person who seems to share my discomfort is the waiter whose skin is donning the shade 'vibrant tomato' from the tip of his head to the base of his neck.

The shock value was so high, he had tripped while stepping back, flipping and barreling backwards causing the waitress behind him to collapse with croissants, cake slices, and iced coffee gliding first into the air before staining the floor.

Pressing my lips together, I turn to Zander and put on a veil of passivity over my face before giving him a 'you were saying?' look.

"What do you think of the photos?"

"I think if I have to look at their tongues more than their dentists do, then I'll sue. So please don't make me look at them anymore," I said pleadingly with a touch of a grimace.

Chuckling, Zander tosses my hair which irritates me since it felt like I was the innocent child in the room.

"Seriously? Nothing about all this unsettles you?" I asked, motioning a hand at Celia and Patrick who were still recovering from the heat of their actions.

"No, why should it? I'm not jealous either. I have a sweet and lovely girlfriend to kiss afterwards."

Gawking, I lightly smack his arm once and then twice by the casual tone of his voice. To just say that openly and cooly? Who did he think he was assuming he'd get anything from me?

Even as I think this, my body reacts differently and my eyes slide toward his mouth and I have to bite down on my own lip and tear my gaze away.

Get it together Catherine! Think PG thoughts only. PG. PG. P.G.

Muttering under my breath, I give Zander a hard look. "Like I'm going to let you anywhere near my lips."

Offering me a slow, wide smile, Zander clutches his chest. "The betrayal. The hurt. Can't you just love me the way these two do?" He sticks out the hand holding his phone, bringing me face to face with a vey candid and raw image.

Making dramatic gagging sounds, I shove the phone away from view and glare. "Get that thing away from me or I swear I will write off men for the rest of my life, including you."

"You don't want me?"

"The only thing I want right now is to purify my eyes and that's something you obviously can't do for me," I huffed.

I should have known I dug my own grave by materializing and vocalizing those words because his next lines instantly have me rolling my eyes.

Cocking his head to one side, Zander raises a brow while smirking. "Purify your sight? Why Catherine, yes I can. And there are plenty of things I can do for you."

I'm about to tell Zander that I'd seen enough from our stay at the guesthouse to know that whatever purifying methods he had wouldn't be enough to work on me when Celia's voice cuts deep into the air between us.

"Can the two of you stop flirting and start taking photos? We're the ones dying here!" She said wryly.

She's taken off the silk scarf and sunglasses, retouched her lipstick, and has buttoned Patrick's shirt with nimble fingers and a speed that surprises the usually talkative boy into total silence.

They both look decent now with the only remnants of their intense make-out session being the natural flush of cheeks and a sudden aversion for eye contact.

Patrick's the first to break free of the spell casted on them and gives his friend a sly grin. "I'm not even surprised that Cupcake doesn't want you. Being banned from every fundraiser and gala has made you lose your touch and playboy mysticism."

Celia and I instinctively wince at 'playboy mysticism' because whatever the hell was that even? That should be the name of a bad and horrible aftertaste, not a persona.

Zander frowns and I do my best to ensure that he doesn't fall down the rabbit hole of egoism. "I can definitely promise you without a doubt, that those are none of the reasons why Zander would be barred."

"Wait I'm barred? I thought you were kidding?" Zander asked incredulously.

"I am!"

"Kidding right?"

"Of course!"

"Then I can kiss you?"

"Yes! Wai-wa-wait...what?" I'm still working my way through our exchange when an arm snakes around my waist and several kisses land against my temple.

Both Patrick and Celia groan from being glaringly aware of their own single status or from Zander's kisses reminding them of their titillating display of affection...or both.

"Well at least in her case and his, it all makes sense," Celia stated after a beat, narrowing her eyes at Patrick.

The grin on his face fades, a line forming on Patrick's lips. "Do I even want to know what you're implying?"

"Sure. Zander is Adonis and worth Catherine flirting with. Her plight of acceptance and rejection makes complete sense when you frame it like that."

"And what does that make me?" He asked expectantly, clearly envisioning something just as godly and superficial.

"An accessory after the fact," Celia said deadpanned.

"What?"

Pretending to inspect her nails, Celia focuses on each nail tip. "You were obviously expecting something right? I assumed it also began with the letter 'A' but if that doesn't work for you, I'm sure the other A-word I use frequently does. How does assho-"

"Ahem!" I interjected tersely, giving Celia a look that conveyed she better be nice. Her mean streak came out when she was flustered and nervous but I couldn't expect Patrick to grasp this and neither could she.

Getting the message, Celia tilts her head so she can directly look up into Patrick's eyes. "Sorry, that was uncalled for."

He wisely chooses to remain silent, only shaking his head at her before crossing his arms nonplussed. "You better be praising me for the rest of the day," he said noncommittally.

Without hesitation, Celia complies. "Of course, you wonderful, glorious, human being with beautiful eyes."

Raising a brow, Patrick gives her a stern look.

"Beautiful features? A divine masterpiece from head to toe? An undeserving gift bestowed upon the world?"

"Much better."

Shifting her gaze, Celia straightens when she catches me and Zander giving her curious looks at the sudden string of flattery. "Erm, so are we finished?" She asked quickly.

"We're going to need more photos than this," I said timidly, using Zander as a shield since I knew what was to come next.

And sure enough, Patrick and Celia's voices come whirling towards me like a missile. "WHAT?"

"We need more than this so it doesn't look just like a fling but something more serious? Or at least an ensemble of photos to make Randy wonder if it's short term or long term. More guess work means more curiosity and interest," I managed to protest, their defiance dissipating as they see the truth in the matter.

"Now go change into the other set of clothing and have the stylist who's on her third coffee work on you two." Grunting at my command, they scamper off to do as they're told.

The stylist who has patiently been waiting and dually acting amongst the crowd of actors, gleefully looks at them as they approach and immediately sets off to work.

"Do you think the photoshopped images will look fine?" I asked Zander, removing my gaze from Patrick and Celia to focus on him.

"They better be. We're hiring a professional after all. They'll be able to touch up and change locations and backgrounds without Randy being the wiser."

"No darling! Ice blue is your colour! It goes with your lovely olive skin and grey eyes!" The stylist proclaimed in righteous fury, snatching the black shirt out of Patrick's hands and replacing it with a pale blue one.

"Young lady, you better not think I'll allow you to wear that putrid shade of yellow you've just picked up! No woman wears a drab dress on a date! You're going for that mauve midi with the nude strapped heels."

"But-"

"No buts! You did an excellent job with the scarf and sunglasses last minute but now you must listen to me."

She's underpaid and a godsend.

If the graphic designer worked as well as her then we'll fool anyone. My train of thought dwells on the professional scope of our scheme when I suddenly turn to Zander and ask what's been on the tip of tongue for awhile.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"How come you don't have your own publicist or media consultant to do damage control for you?"

"Would you believe me if I said I lived on the fringes of high society?" He asked with a pinched expression.

"As much as pigs flying."

Sighing, Zander gives me a lopsided smile. "I couldn't trust anyone and Dad wasn't in the mood to deal with me. I had to clean up my own messes as he so illustriously put it."

"What do you mean you couldn't trust anyone?"

"There were...are far too many people who sided and got paid by her and her family," Zander said stonily.

It takes me a fraction of a second to fit the pieces together.

His ex fiancée.

Despite having the financial resources to hire someone for the job, trust was something that could easily be bought out if the conditions were appealing enough. No wonder he came searching for me - I was a last resort but the most promising one since I kept a distance and neither Celia or I actually met our clients in person.

And this also explains why Zander never hired anyone to find me. He couldn't risk being double crossed or his intentions exposed.

He had to risk moving into the apartment complex himself and search for the mysterious matchmaker.

Considering his social group had a small pool of industry experts to reach out to, who handled things for them, Zander's been ostracized by them all or they've been handsomely paid to ignore his requests...and now the yacht fiasco makes sense. Well, sort of.

"Now here we are," he said quietly.

"I don't get why your Dad..." the sentence dies in my throat when I sense Zander tense slightly.

"Let's just say it's easier and requires less effort to dispose of your kids and their mishaps instead of trying to publicly take your son's side."

I don't say anything but rake my brain of the information I've gathered over the past few weeks. Surely, Mr. Nolan couldn't be as cruel? Zander's Mom seemed to suggest that this ex-fiancée and her family had the Nolans under their thumb for private or political reasons she couldn't disclose.

Maybe the President has to turn the other cheek or make a sacrifice? But such a thought hits me with a pang of sympathy - Regardless of the reasons, Zander should get to determine who he wants to be and who he wants to be with.

"This'll work," I said assuringly, equally for my own benefit to quell my growing doubts as much as his.

"I hope so because if it doesn't, Patrick is going to come at me with vengeance. He's great now, but once you see him actually angry you'll regret it."

Following the projection of his stare, my own eyes land on Patrick bounding towards us with hair sleeked back, pale shirt tucked in, and an overall tailored look to complement Celia's poise.

"We're ready!" They chimed.

Snorting, Patrick lowers his voice to avoid offending the stylist. "She practically dressed me the way my grandmother would."

Raising an eyebrow, I give him a steely expression. "So decent? She dressed you decent?"

"I look like I'm ready for my grade school photo day pictures!"

Rolling her eyes, Celia hooks an arm in his. "You're going to badmouth the woman for cleaning you up? For making you look like a real man?"

"Excuse me Your Royal Rudeness, but the only thing that should be coming out of you are compliments about my existence."

Sighing, she glances heavenward before refraining from an insult clearly dying to explode through. "You look ever so princely and that hair more fabulous than it's ever been from your usual...artful dishevelled-ness....putting the order in disorder."

"Uh, thank you?" Patrick said, posing it as a question as he rubs his chin.

Shaking my head, I continue snapping away to gain more photos while they play along and have five more clothing fits - enough photos and looks to span the course of weeks or months.

"I'm exhausted. Can we please rest?" Patrick grumbled, messing with his hair with a shaky hand which alarms the stylist who 'tuts' and reworks the damage he's inflicted.

Groaning, Celia flails and deposits herself in a chair in front of us. "Gawd, I could use a breather. I think I've developed something and am now allergic to retail therapy. I can't lift my arms to fit into another top or bend to undo shoes anymore!"

Never thought this day would come.

"Hey! I heard that!"

"Oops, did I say that out loud?" I asked innocently, covering my mouth with a hand.

"Not until the shoot is over," Zander shot back, giving both Patrick and Celia an arched look fully in command of the situation.

"Have mercy, Zander! Cat, do something?" She pleaded.

"Pizza?" I offered knowing pizza solved almost anything. What I receive instead, are two very forlorn expressions and a single elated one.
************
Several hours later, and we're huddled by my desktop having abandoned the empty pizza box a long time ago.

Slurping on a can of soda, I write out the body of the email needed to be sent over to Ms. Musa's counsel who's meant to approach Randy and his wife.

Receiving a detailed outline in response, the four of us take it in stride.

"We'll need to do a background check and ask for surveillance from Ms. Musa," Celia said practically, going over the outline of the email, point by point.

Nodding, Patrick skims the outline next. "We're also going to need individual disguises since they've given us the okay to act like staff at the office."

"Love that this is totally all legal," Zander said beaming.

Breaking into a few nervous laughs, I give him a sheepish look. "Technically...technically it isn't but better safe than sorry."

"I'm touched that you're venturing into criminal territory for me."

"Please stop reminding me that this could possibly be considered a crime," I said fleetingly, my voice hoarse.

Eyeing Zander and Patrick  suspiciously, Celia gives them a scathing look. "If this goes south, you better bail us out."

"Me?" Patrick whined.

"Yes, you! Or I promise your grandmother will hear all about your conspiratorial plots to deny her great grandkids!"

Narrowing his eyes, Patrick openly glares at her. "Are you threatening me? After all we've been through together?"

"I don't want to go to prison!" Celia breaks down, choking on a fake sob.

"Now look what you've done," I said, aiming my words at Zander who merely shrugs.

"The only person I'd bail out in a heartbeat is Cupcake," he said lightly, adding more fuel to the fire as both Patrick and Celia give him dark looks feeling highly unappreciated.

"That's low man, really low."

"I'll have you know, Cat can't live without me!"

"It's true, Celia's basically my soulmate for life."

The last blow thrown by me seems to get under Zander's skin but he's also amused by it. I'd just reiterated what I said at the guesthouse but he had taken my words lightly then.

There was no way I was going to sweep my everlasting friendship under the rug for some guy - even if that guy was Zander Nolan.

"That's right Nolan. Weep. I know Cat could never live without me," Celia said smugly, a smirk on her face.

I nod solemnly in agreement but immediately dread my complacency as Zander secures a hand on my shoulder and protectively encases me against him.

"She'll learn to live without you."

I don't even know where this conversation is going anymore and my mind seems only capable of focusing in on Zander's annoyance...

Is he jealous? Of Celia?

Celia?!

Squashing me closer to him till my cheek is flat against his chest, my imagination begins to float back to the last time we were this close - back to the guesthouse.

"Zander?" I said thinly.

"Yeah?"

"I'll exclusively bake you cupcakes so please let go," I strangled out weakly, hoping baked delights would trump the sudden childish jealousy.

"For how long?" He asked suspiciously.

"For as long as you want."

"So, forever."

Blowing hot breaths out of my system, I wonder if I'll  ever be able to cope with how honest and explicitly embarrassing Zander's affection is.

"Ugh there they go again," Celia groaned.

Patrick grimaces and gives Zander a dark look. "I'm gonna need to start carrying around barf bags."

"Vomit induced by sweetness."

"Eurgh, I think I just developed diabetes."

Zander rolls his eyes at their theatrics while I stand still and die of embarrassment and slide out of his hold before clearing my throat. "Right. Let's pick out those disguises. Who wants to be the office tech guy?"