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“Why am I here, Wade?” she asked around a mouthful of potatoes. “You’re keeping me from doing my job.”
“I know and that part’s stressing me out, to be fair,” I laughed. I smoothed out my napkin in my lap, opting to take a break from my food and instead indulge in the wine. I’d mentally prepped myself for this moment, running through every scenario in my head. I ensured I knew the atmosphere, how it would go down, how I would sell it. It was starting, it that was hard, but she’d given me my in. “I have a proposition for you.”
“Oh god.”
“No, no, I think you’ll like it,” I grinned, taking a swig of my wine. “Remember how I asked you to cancel my bunny dates? How I needed to clean up my act and look more serious for the wedding in order to get an investor?”
She nodded as her brows came together, eyes narrowing. She looked suspicious, and to be honest, I couldn’t blame her.
“Here’s the problem with that. None of them are good candidates for passing as a serious partner, and I think you know that. I think that’s why you haven’t chosen someone for me yet,” I explained. I studied her face, watching the little muscles move, analyzing every change in her expression. “On top of that, I don’t think there’s a single one that wouldn’t be recognized by the resort staff. I don’t want there to be any question that whoever I bring is just a fling. Chloe’s future in-laws are old-fashioned, and since they’re the ones I’m trying to onboard, I need to appeal to them. And so the other day, when you came into my office so focused on making sure your mother had her bills paid, something clicked.”
“I… don’t understand.”
“That’s fine, just listen.” Another sip of wine, another confidence boost. “I think you’d be the right fit for something like this. You’re beautiful. Physically, you fit right in with the women I normally go for. It would be believable. But you’re so much more serious than them, more mature. You don’t give off the vibe of a passing fling. Together, I think you and I can sell it, ensuring that I can get my hands on that investment.”
Her eyes grew wide and she opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand to stop her.
“I know what you’re thinking—how would we sell it? I’ve figured that out too,” I continued, pushing her wine back toward her in case she needed it. “We go on a few dates. Let the media see us, as much as I hate that. We’ll share a bed for appearances in case anyone follows us back to my house. I’ll pay for the twenty-four-seven care for your mom in the meantime. We make it look as real as possible in the next few weeks to outsiders.”
“Wade—”
“I have some rules, though, and I know damn well you’ll have your own. Let me go over mine and then you can counter, okay?” I grinned, and she gave me nothing in return. “The biggest one: don’t fall in love with me. That might be a little tricky, but I’m sure you can handle it. Also, keep this on the down low at work. If people find out, fine, but I don’t want to be rubbing this all over the office. You’ll have to be okay with public displays of affection, but those won’t go beyond a kiss here or there, unless you want it to.”
Her hands balled into fists, scraping her fork against her plate as she clutched it. “Wade.”
“You’ll be compensated for your time, of course. Every hour you spend helping me with this will count as overtime, so two and a half times your base rate. You need the money, so this would really work in your favor.”
“Wade. What the?—”
“Plus, you kind of owe me for slamming into me on your skis?—”
She stood abruptly, bumping against the table and making the wine sway. I caught it just as it began to fall. “You very well could be the worst man I have ever met in my entire life,” she snapped. She leaned toward me, one pointed finger aimed at my face and one fist against the table. The skirt of her dress rose just a hair, her stocking-covered legs a little more visible. “How dare you.”
“Ray, calm down,” I hissed. I didn’t understand why she seemed so upset. I’d just offered her even more money than her already generous salary, offered her a chance to make up for running me over, and offered her more stability for her mom. How was this a bad thing?
“No, I’m not going to calm down,” she cautioned, her voice rising. “You don’t even get it, do you? How much of an asshole you are.”
“I’m offering you?—”
“No. Don’t. You’re asking for my help and taking pity on me in return.” She glanced around, taking note of the people staring directly at us. “You act like pretending to be in a relationship with you would be fun, as if I’ve been pining after you for weeks and now’s my chance to get a little taste of you. It’s disgusting. It’s workplace harassment, really. And worst of all, it’s just fucking sad.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. It felt like she was twisting my words, taking them in all the worst ways possible, instead of seeing it as an opportunity. I was going to pay her for her time, for God's sake. “You’re taking this completely the wrong way,” I said quietly, trying to get her to lower her own voice and calm down.
She only bit back harder. “No, you don’t understand how demeaning this is.” She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair, throwing it over her shoulders in a huff. “I’m not one of your fucking bunnies. Grow up and figure this shit out yourself.”
She turned, her ponytail flying, and walked toward the exit, leaving me alone at the table with two sets of lamb, a bottle of wine, and at least ten pairs of eyes trained on me. Great.
Chapter 11
Ray
Ihadn’t bothered to go back to the office. I didn’t care what Wade would say about it, didn’t care if he fired me, didn’t care if I’d royally fucked up. I headed straight to the gym. I didn’t often have time to work out, not with needing to care for Mom, so being able to do it while still technically on the clock was as big of a win as I would get today.
I grabbed the pack of antibacterial wipes out of my purse. I didn’t trust the spray bottle or paper towels they had sitting around for people to use nor did I want to touch something that others’ sweaty hands had held. Every nerve in my body was firing on overdrive. I could feel the slight to nonexistent breeze inside the gym, could hear a pin drop over the obnoxiously muscled men who grunted and threw their weights. I could smell the snow outside. I could taste sweat in the air.
I set the treadmill to a light pace at first, just two miles per hour to start myself off.
With every step, every inch I walked, I spiraled. Wade’s comments had broken something within me that I didn’t know how to piece back together. He’d made me feel weak, embarrassed, useless, insinuating that my need for money would be solved by pretending to be in love with him. If anything, it would only make things worse.
