Clarke would be lying if she said she'd never thought about Bellamy Blake naked before. Anyone with a working pair of eyes can see he's gorgeous. Dark curly hair, eyes she could melt into, and a smattering of freckles across his handsome face that take him from regular hot guy to an otherworldly beauty. She's never actually seen his body but she's pretty sure it's amazing. At least it always is when she's fantasising about doing him in the elevator at work.
Up until this moment she thought it might eventually happen too (although maybe not at work), after all he's always flirting with her, which she doesn't hate, and she's pretty sure she caught him checking her out once or twice, especially that time she accidentally wore a shirt that was a size too small to work.
She had actually been planning to ask him out in the near future. But now she can see she's been deluding herself, and she's glad she saved herself the embarrassment of being rejected. Although it's safe to say this is only slightly less embarrassing.
"Bellamy?" she says incredulously when she spots him as she walks into her boss's bedroom, in the penthouse of the hotel they work at. "What the fuck are you doing?" He's lying naked on the king bed, and Clarke is so shocked she can't even bring herself to appreciate what he has on display before he's covering himself with the sheets.
"Clarke. Fuck," he swears as he sits up, making sure all the important parts are covered. "What are you doing in here?"
"Seriously Bellamy?" she huffs angrily. Her face is bright red, she knows, half from embarrassment and half from anger. "You're the one fucking naked in our boss's bed! I'm supposed to be in here. Roan sent me to get his phone which he left behind."
"Okay, I know this looks bad," Bellamy says, getting off the bed, holding the sheets around his waist, and maybe Clarke hadn't gotten a good look at his junk, but she's getting a good look at his chest now and it's honestly just not fair that he's so attractive because she's trying to be mad at him.
"Looks bad?" Clarke hisses. "You're sleeping with Roan's wife!" she accuses, because that's the logical conclusion, and from the sheepish look on Bellamy's face she knows she's right. As if on cue, Echo walks out of the ensuite bathroom, wearing only a shirt which Clarke can only assume is Bellamy's despite the fact that there's a walk in robe only a few feet away full of more expensive shirts owned by her husband.
"What are you doing in here?" Echo asks Clarke angrily.
"You've got some nerve asking me that," Clarke spits. Look, she doesn't always love Roan. He's a reasonably good boss but he can be demanding and sometimes short with her. Still, he doesn't deserve this shit.
"You can't speak to me like that," Echo says coolly. "I'm your boss."
"Roan is my boss," Clarke reminds her. "And I don't think he'll be too impressed when he finds out what you've been doing behind his back."
"If you tell him, I'll make your life a living hell," Echo warns.
"I'd like to see you try," Clarke scoffs. Echo narrows her eyes.
"Get. Out," she seethes and Clarke purses her lips, strides over to the beside table and grabs Roan's phone before marching out of the room, with the intent of heading straight to Roan to tell him what his wife has been doing. She doesn't even consider the possibility that Roan won't want to know, she knows he hates to be kept in the dark.
She makes it to the elevator and is about to step in when she hears Bellamy call out her name. She turns to see him exiting the penthouse, still shirtless, though he's wearing pants now. Clarke stops to wait for him, though her feeling of disapproval is so strong it seeps into her expression.
"Clarke," he says again as he reaches her. "Please don't tell Roan," he begs. He looks so desperate and Clarke almost feels sorry for him. But then she remembers he's the one that made the dumbass decision to sleep with a married woman, married to his boss no less. So, yeah. He's not getting any sympathy from her.
"Why shouldn't I?" she snaps. "If I don't tell him and he finds out I kept it from him then he'll be mad at me too."
"But he won't fire you," Bellamy persuades. "He respects you, values you too much. He wants to make you manager."
"What's your point?"
"He'll fire me," Bellamy says, his eyes pleading with her. "I'm just his driver, he can easily get a new one. I really need the job, Clarke." Clarke knows this, of course. She knows he's paying for half his sister's college tuition, plus saving up for his own. She knows he can barely afford the shitty apartment he lives in. It's easy for Clarke to take a low paying personal assistant position while her rich mother pays her rent, knowing she can go back to college at any time with her mom's money and blessing if she decides the hotel business isn't for her.
Clarke sighs, taking in Bellamy's desperate plea and weighing it against her own moral judgement. She owes Roan a lot for giving her this job, taking a chance on an inexperienced college drop out and building her up until she's management material. But Bellamy's her friend too, and he's right. Roan will fire him if he finds out his driver has been sleeping with his wife.
"Fine," she says finally, and Bellamy looks relieved. "I won't tell. But maybe you should think about breaking it off. Or at least doing it somewhere Roan doesn't own." Bellamy has the decency to look sheepish again.
"Thanks, Clarke," he says. "You're a good friend." Clarke forces a smile though his words smart. She'd been so focused on Roan's feelings, and then Bellamy's she hadn't realised how much it hurt her. She honestly thought there was something between her and Bellamy, and now she feels like a total idiot. Of course he flirts with her, men do that. It doesn't mean he actually likes her. It's evident now that he doesn't and never has. You're a good friend. Ouch.
"This better not come back to bite me," she warns, and Bellamy nods seriously before heading back into Roan and Echo's apartment, leaving Clarke to wallow in the aftermath of her discovery and her decision.
She almost forgets about it for a couple of weeks, though she spends the first few days feeling guilty every time Roan talks to her, which, considering she's his assistant, is a lot. She doesn't know how Bellamy and Echo do it, lie to his face and not get eaten away by guilt, and they're the ones actually doing something wrong. Still, she decides it's not her problem anymore. As far as any of them are concerned she knows nothing about it.
It's fairly easy to just put it in the back of her mind, seeing as she has more pressing matters to deal with, such as Roan's impending trip to Paris. He's looking to branch out, maybe turn his hotel into a chain, and there are people in Paris who are willing to work with him. Clarke is going with him, of course, he needs his right hand man by his side for the negotiations, and his wife, Echo is also coming along for the ride. Clarke had thought it romantic at first, Roan taking his wife to the most romantic city in the world, but now that she knows what a sham their marriage is she finds it nauseating.
If she's honest, Clarke never really liked Echo that much. She's always seemed quite self serving and vain, though at least before Clarke had thought Echo actually loved Roan. Now she's wondering if maybe Echo was only in it for the money. She's a model, not that there's anything wrong with that, but she's not a very successful model, or at least she wasn't until she was able to start buying her way onto catwalks. But Roan apparently loves her, for what reason Clarke can't fathom, and since he doesn't know about the cheating he probably thinks taking his wife to Paris is romantic, even if it is technically a business trip.
The flight there is fine, she tries to sleep a little, but Roan wakes her up periodically to make a note of something or other he needs to remember to do or say, so it's not exactly a good night's rest. At least she'll be able to sleep at the hotel, which, knowing Roan will be the best money can by, so she's not going to complain.
It's well into the evening by the time they arrive in Paris, take a private taxi to their hotel on the Champs Elysees and check in. Roan has a booking in the hotel restaurant for dinner, and he invites Clarke along but she doesn't feel much like being a third wheel to a couple whose relationship is most likely on the rocks, so she tells Roan she's not feeling well and heads to her room to order room service.
The hotel is probably the fanciest one she's ever stayed in, and that's saying something because her mom is rich and she's stayed in a lot of hotels. The room service is expensive, but Roan's paying so she can't bring herself to care. She's going to enjoy her trip to Paris as much as she can, even if she'll be working half the time. She has a shower and puts on the robe supplied by the hotel, soft and fluffy against her clean skin, and she's settled herself by the window with a book by the time her meal arrives.
She's about ready to go to bed, the time is roughly 10pm, when she hears a knock at the door. Her first instinct is that it's Roan, coming to make sure she's ready for tomorrow, although normally he'd just text her. But when she opens the door it's not Roan at all. It's Bellamy. He seems to have a habit of being in places he shouldn't be.
"Hey," he says, before Clarke can get a word in. "Can I come in?"
"No," Clarke says immediately. "What are you even doing here?"
"Echo asked me to come," he says. "Now, will you let me in before Roan sees me?" Clarke can hardly believe what she's hearing.
"Are you fucking insane?" she hisses. "What are you going to do, fuck Echo while her husband works and then piss off while he fucks her at night?" Bellamy grimaces as if he hadn't thought of it quite like that. "And what are you doing at my door anyway? Shouldn't you be with Echo?" Maybe she sounds a little bitter, but mostly she's just angry that he's being so stupid. It's like he wants to get caught.
"Obviously not," Bellamy huffs. "Echo texted me your room number and told me to wait for her here."
"I can't believe you flew all the way to Paris for her," Clarke shakes her in disbelief.
"Well, she's paying," Bellamy shrugs. "Like I'm going to turn down a free trip to Paris." Clarke gives him a look of disgust. She can hardly believe only a couple of weeks ago she wanted to date this guy. Well, he's still hot so she can kind of believe it. But she's annoyed at herself for still being attracted to him, even though he's clearly one of the stupidest men on the planet.
"You're a real piece of work," she scowls. Bellamy almost looks hurt at her words, but he doesn't get a chance to defend himself because at that moment the doors of the elevator nearby open and Roan is ushering Echo into the hall. There's no time to hide Bellamy, and Clarke watches as Echo's eyes widen in panic and Roan frowns in confusion when they spot Bellamy. Obviously Echo and Bellamy really thought they were going to get away with this and had no backup plan for if Roan spotted Bellamy.
"Bellamy?" Roan says as he strides towards Clarke's room, Echo following him, giving Bellamy signals with her eyes that even Clarke can't understand. "What are you doing here?"
"Um," Bellamy starts, glancing at Clarke.
"I invited him," Clarke hurriedly interrupts before Bellamy can say something idiotic and ruin his chances of keeping his job.
"I told you I won't be needing a driver here," Roan frowns.
"Not as your driver," Clarke improvises. "We're, uh… dating." It's the only logical explanation she can think of, and Clarke can only thank her lucky stars Bellamy showed up at her own door and not Echo's. Or more accurately, Bellamy should be thanking his lucky stars that Clarke is a good friend and has decided to cover for him.
"Yeah," Bellamy quickly agrees. "Paris. Romantic." Roan raises a knowing eyebrow at Clarke.
"I knew there was something going on between you two," he says, and Clarke can hardly believe he's so easy to convince. "Echo and I are off to bed, early start tomorrow," Roan tells them. "Don't stay up too late." He winks as he heads off in the direction of his room. Echo follows with only a quick glance over her shoulder.
Bellamy and Clarke stand in silence for a moment before Bellamy clears his throat.
"So, uh, Echo was supposed to give me a room key. But it looks like that's not going to happen," he says. Clarke rolls her eyes.
"Go home, Bellamy," she tells him. She's so not sharing her room with him.
"I can't go home now," he points out. "Roan's already seen me and he thinks we're dating. He'll think it's weird if I leave now."
"I'm sure I can come up with something," Clarke assures him, but she's pretty sure she already knows she's going to let him in.
"But Clarke, it's Paris," Bellamy grins, as if he knows her resolve is fading. Clarke purses her lips at him. "Let me stay," he says, somewhere between a plea and a command.
"Fine," Clarke relents. "But you're sleeping on the floor."
The talks with the interested parties go very well the next morning, and Clarke is so intent on the conversation, on learning how these things work that she doesn't even think about the fact that Bellamy and Echo are probably screwing each others brains out this very second.
Clarke speaks limited French so she can't always follow the conversation, but Roan speaks fluently, having grown up in Quebec, and makes sure to translate most of it for her. From what Clarke can tell, they've already made the decision to go ahead with the hotel and now it's just a matter of legalities.
After a day of discussions of contracts and plans and locations, where nothing really ended up being settled, Roan and Clarke head back to the hotel.
"I've booked a restaurant for the four of us tonight at eight. Meet us in the lobby," Roan tells Clarke as the exit the elevator and head to their respective rooms. Clarke just nods, knowing she can't fake being sick two nights in a row.
She's as good as forgotten about Bellamy's presence, so she starts a little when she opens the door to her hotel room and finds him lying on her bed, reading her book.
"Make yourself at home why don't you," she huffs, dropping her bag to the floor and kicking her shoes off. She ignores the twinge in her chest she feels at the sight of him looking so comfortable in her bed, even if it is just a hotel bed.
"I assumed I was only banned from the bed when you weren't in it," he says, lowering the book. He's got his glasses on, thick framed and adorable, and he's dressed in only sweat pants and Clarke has to stop herself from drooling.
"Well, the least you could do is wear a shirt," Clarke grumbles.
"Oh come on, you love it," he winks. A few weeks ago Clarke would have made some flirty comment back, maybe teased him a little about how hot he thinks he is. Now she just rolls her eyes as she strides over to him and snatches her book from his grasp. "Fine, I'll just watch the movie instead," he grins.
"It has Tom Cruise in it," she warns.
"Ugh, I guess I'll just forget the whole thing then," he screws up his nose, and Clarke fights to keep the smile from her face. She watches him for a moment as he pulls off his glasses and puts them beside the bed.
"We have to go out for dinner tonight with Roan and Echo," she tells him, knowing he isn't going to love the idea. She doesn't love it herself.
"Can't we just tell them we need to stay in so we can order room service and have lots of sex?" he suggests. Clarke tries to fight off a blush unsuccessfully, but she hopes he doesn't notice her slightly red face. It's not the mention of sex that makes her embarrassed, it's the mention of sex with him. While he's sitting on her bed showing off his hard brown chest that she definitely has not thought about licking. Recently at least. In the last eight hours.
"I stayed in last night," she says. "Roan isn't going to take no for an answer. I'm going to take a shower. Be ready by eight."
It's dumb, how good he looks in a nice shirt and a pair of pants. It's like, he's not even trying, he's just so effortlessly gorgeous and Clarke marvels at how dumb she was to think he might actually like her, when he can so clearly have anyone he wants. Including, apparently, a married woman whose husband happens to be his boss.
And then there's Clarke, who has put a considerable amount of effort into her appearance for the evening, not to mention a dress which is practically all cleavage, and Bellamy barely spares her a second glance.
"Ready to go?" he asks her when she walks out of the bathroom, and she nods, leading the way out of the room and to the elevator. They ride down the ten floors in silence, Clarke refusing to look at Bellamy. He looks so good and her crush on him has only heightened, which means she has to pretend like she doesn't give a fuck about him at all, lest he find out how much he affects her.
She's nervous, fidgety, worried that Roan will see through the charade and fire both of them on the spot for conspiring against him. She doesn't know if Bellamy can tell how on edge she is, but as the elevator reaches the ground floor and before the doors can open Bellamy grabs her hand, squeezing gently. She turns to him in confusion, though her heart rate quickens.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Got to make it believable," he shrugs. Then the doors open and he pulls her out into the lobby to where Roan and Echo are already waiting. Roan smirks when he sees them, taking in their linked hands and Clarke can only wish he really had something to smirk about.
"You guys are going to love this place," Roan says before leading them out of the hotel to the taxi awaiting them.
The restaurant is beautiful, of course, as if Roan would settle for less. They sit outdoors where they can admire the view of the Seine, and the Eiffel Tower all lit up and looking like a postcard.
The ride to the restaurant had been fairly silent, and Clarke is certain dinner is going to be the same. Awkward and uncomfortable, what with she and Bellamy pretending to be a couple, Echo cheating on Roan with Bellamy, and Roan the only one in the dark about everything.
Clarke half expects dirty looks from Echo, expects her to be sullen and distant, to show nothing but disdain and contempt for her husband. But either Echo is an excellent actress or she feels neither of those things for Roan. She's nothing but pleasant, holding Roan's hand, listening to him prattle on about the plans for the new hotel and how impossible the French are, and telling him about her own (probably made up) activities for the day. It makes Clarke wonder why she's doing it. Cheating on her husband. She loves him, that much is obvious. And yet, not enough to be faithful to him. And she doesn't seem to hold any ill feelings towards Clarke either, despite the walking in incident and the threatening to tell Roan.
Even pretending to be Bellamy's girlfriend isn't awkward, or even hard. He's good at acting, apparently, and the way he looks at her, touches her casually as if he does it all the time, Clarke could almost believe herself that it's her he's sleeping with and not Echo. It's dangerous probably, to think like that, but it makes it easier to pretend, and as long as she knows it's pretend, what does it matter if she enjoys his attention for a few hours?
"Have either of you been to Paris before?" Roan asks as the waiter pours his fourth glass of wine, their empty plates having just been taken away.
"Once," Clarke answers. Her mom had brought her here one summer. Bellamy shakes his head.
"Never could afford it," he admits. "Or had the time."
"Well, it's nice that you two can be here together," Echo says, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Not cruelly or mockingly, just as if it's a private joke between the three of them. Which maybe it is, in some sick, twisted way. "In the city of love."
"We should take a walk along the river after dinner," Roan suggests.
"Get a picture of the lovebirds with the Eiffel Tower in the background," Echo smirks and Clarke has to fight back a glower. Roan nods approvingly before calling the waiter over to bring the bill. After he's paid and left an outrageous tip, the four of them cross the road to the side of the Seine.
"Alright, you two stand there and I'll get a picture," Roan instructs, getting his phone out. Bellamy hangs his arm around Clarke and she fits in perfectly against his side, and she tries not to get too comfortable.
"Smile!" Echo laughs.
"Don't be ridiculous. This is Paris," Roan scolds. "She obviously wants him to kiss her." Clarke doesn't know if it is obvious or not, but he's not entirely wrong. Still, they're only pretending to be in love, so kissing would be weird. She opens her mouth to say they don't need to kiss for the photo, but Echo beats her to it.
"Don't be so dramatic, Roan," she huffs. "It's just a photo." But Bellamy doesn't seem to hear her, because he's already turning Clarke towards him, and she barely has time to be surprised before he's kissing her. And not like, posing for a photo kissing. Like proper kissing. Like his mouth his open, his tongue parting her lips, his arms strong around her waist, pulling her tighter. Clarke falls into him, into the kiss, her eyes closing and her arms circling around his neck while she lets his tongue explore her mouth. She feels it right down to her toes, and the tug she feels in her chest lets her know how much she wants him.
"Do you want me to put this on Facebook or whatever you kids do these days?" Roan asks, and Bellamy takes that as his cue to pull away, though it's slow and almost reluctant, and he keeps his eyes on her until Clarke turns back to Roan.
"Don't put it on Facebook," Clarke says quickly, though she's still reeling from the kiss. She so doesn't need this fake relationship seeping into every aspect of her life. But that's as far as her coherent thoughts will take her, and a legitimate reason evades her.
"We haven't told anyone else yet," Bellamy supplies and Clarke nods in agreement though she was only half listening.
"Fair enough," Roan nods. "Echo and I are going to stroll around for a while. Care to join us?"
"I think we'd like to head back to the hotel," Bellamy says. "If you know what I mean." He and Roan share a look that says I'm getting lucky tonight, though Clarke suspects neither of them will be if the way Echo rolls her eyes is any indication.
"I'll see you tomorrow then, Clarke," Roan nods. "Goodnight." He takes Echo's hand and leads her off into the night, leaving Bellamy and Clarke to fend for themselves.
They manage to find a taxi and make it back to the hotel, neither of them saying a word, though Clarke has a million things she wants to ask him. Number one: what the fuck?
She manages to keep her mouth shut until she's lying in bed, Bellamy on the floor on the other side.
"Do you think Echo's mad you kissed me?" she whispers into the dark.
"No," Bellamy whispers back. "She's got a husband, it's not like we're exclusive."
"Are you in love with her?" A silence.
"No. Does that make it better or worse?"
"I don't know," Clarke says honestly. Can anything make cheating better? "Why bother if you're not in love though? She's clearly still in love with her husband, and you could have anyone you want." He's silent again and Clarke wonders if he's pretending to be asleep so he doesn't have to answer.
"She loves him," Bellamy agrees. "But he works a lot. And she likes variety. She was never meant to be monogamous."
"So why get married?" Clarke says exasperatedly.
"You got me," Bellamy sighs. "Do you think less of me now you know about me and Echo?"
"A little," she admits.
"I hate that," Bellamy says softly. Clarke doesn't reply for a while, though she still has plenty to ask him. What's in it for you? Don't you care about Roan's feelings? Why did you kiss me? But she can't bring herself to say any of it.
"You can sleep in the bed tonight if you want," she says instead. Bellamy doesn't respond, but after a beat she hears him get up and pad to the bed, then she feels his weight on the mattress beside her. She assumes the conversation is done then, they both fall into silence, but after a few minutes Bellamy speaks again.
"I should've told you earlier," he whispers. "But you looked really nice tonight." Clarke pretends to be asleep so she doesn't have to answer.