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I look over to Nila, sitting in my passenger seat.
“Yeah,” I lie.
In truth, my heart is pounding in my chest. But there’s no way I’m going to tell this woman that taking her to dinner with my dad has me feeling nervous. Not to mention, she’s gorgeous in an A-line black dress, accentuating her creamy skin and green eyes.
It has me feeling things—things that make no sense.
Because nothing about this dinner should be bothering me.
“Your face looks a little drained of color...” Nila’s button nose wrinkles as she unclips her seatbelt. “Are you getting sick?”
“No ... I—”
Her hand collides with my forehead, and I catch my breath, the sensation of her fingers against my skin startling—in a good way.
“You don’t feel warm.” She removes her hand, her brows furrowed. “You’re a little clammy though.”
I frown as my cheeks flush with heat. “Can you not touch my face?”
“Your color’s back,” she comments, a smile breaking out across her face.
“We should probably get going,” I mutter, unlocking and pushing the car door open. “He’s already inside.”
“Okay.” She climbs out, her red heels popping against the pavement. I try not to stare at her legs as she joins me at the front of my car. “Are we just going to stand out here?”
I blink a couple of times and shake my head. “No, sorry.”
“Look, Cameron,” Nila begins, letting out a heavy breath, “I promise I’m not going to take very many pictures tonight. I know this is a lot for you—and I don’t want to make your dad uncomfortable either.”
Stupidly, I just stare at her for a few seconds. I hadn’t even thought about that. I’m not worried about the pictures she takes. I’m worried about my dad’s reaction to me bringing a beautiful woman to dinner—and what he might say.
Especially considering I didn’t tell him in advance that she was coming…
Nila makes a face at me. “Why are you looking at me like that? I was being serious. I’m not going to ruin your dinner with your dad. You’ll never even know I’m there.”
I laugh. “Impossible.”
She frowns, and I don’t think she understands why I said what I did. But there’s no point in continuing to stand outside talking about it.
I head for the door to my favorite Italian place and hold it open for Nila. As soon as I step through behind her, I spot my dad jumping up from one of the waiting benches.
“Cam! You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone along!” His white hair on his head bounces as he grins, extending a hand to Nila. “My apologies, I had no idea—”
“This is Nila,” I cut him off as she shakes his hand.
She looks shocked—and I know it’s because she asked me to tell my dad in advance that she was coming. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Hastens.”
“Oh please, call me Carl.” He grins.
“She’s the social media specialist they assigned to me after the fight,” I continue.
My dad’s brow furrows, his eyes bouncing between the two of us. “And now you’re dating?”
I let out a sharp sigh. “No, no. We’re not dating.”
“I’m just his shadow. I photograph the important moments—or moments that I can turn into social media posts. You can just pretend like I’m not even here,” Nila says, her voice light and nonchalant.
She’s a pro with strangers.
