Page 37 of In the Frame

“Do you have any rules?” Florian peers at me in a way that unravels me silently. Which is a problem, given our pseudo-status.

“Oh yeah.” I shrug casually, frantically racking my brain for something rule-sounding, hopefully more convincing than inane. “It needs to look authentic. Any physical intimacy. My golden standard.”

“Right. Of course.” Florian nods, quickly checking his tie in the mirror over the desk. He makes an adjustment that’s not necessary, but it’s fascinating to watch, even so. “Rule 2: look authentic.”

“And that means everything. Like, hand holding or kisses or whatever.” I do my best to give him a level stare. “If people are going to buy in. I mean, that’s the goal, right?”

“I agree.”

“Maybe we’ll need to practice.” I do my best to look totally relaxed, which I definitely am not, while Florian lifts his eyebrow at me.

“Fine. We’ll practice looking authentic.” Florian tilts his head but makes no sign of moving toward me. I suppose I didn’t say we need to practice right now. “So, for the record, how did we meet?”

“Well… probably a version of the truth for that, at least, is helpful,” I admit. “We could say we met at a bar. Even at Ivan’s, that we met when I was on shift. Otherwise, saying we met at an art event is going to lead to loads of questions because my friends are mostly artists. And they know I don’t exactly hang out at Sotheby’s.” I cough.

“Okay. We met at Ivan’s. And how did we actually start to fake partner?”

“Well. You couldn’t resist my charm, and I couldn’t resist your way with a suit.” I shrug. “I mean, fair. That’s all believable.”

“I see. Opposites attract, then.”

“Yeah.” I nod, brightening. Now he’s getting into the spirit. “That. When you’re not managing millions, you like to spend time with your friendly local bartender talking about your… business conquests?”

Florian adjusts his cufflinks. He peers at me for a long moment. “May I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Are you going to get dressed too? As you told me, time is getting on, and I didn’t bring a suit all this way for you not to wear it.”

“Ha. I was just going to do that,” I say a little too quickly. I open the wardrobe and pull out the garment bags. Focusing on something other than Florian will definitely be helpful. I open both of the garment bags and admire the charcoal replacement suit that Florian’s brought me. It’s definitely more luxurious than my navy one.

“It’ll probably need alterations,” Florian warns. “But it was better than no suit.”

“Let me go try these on.” Quickly, I take both suits and a shirt into the en suite to change because I don’t have the guts to change in front of him like he did. I’m way too self-conscious for that. And I’m not showing him my boxers or my hard-on right now.

Before long, I emerge in the navy suit. “Here we go. Ready as it gets.”

Florian frowns slightly, coming over. He sweeps in and purposefully adjusts my tie as I flush. “Like this,” he instructs.

“Sure.” Oh God. I cough slightly, squirming under his close attention and fighting the urge to pull him close by the jacket and practice our fake kissing. His eyelashes are unreasonably lush. I really need to get this under control. It’s one thing to have an impulsive kiss in the lobby on suit delivery; it’s another when we’re in here, because who knows what that might lead to. Scandal, for sure. And my downfall.

Our gazes meet, and he blushes ever so faintly before he gives a decisive nod. “Better.”

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

We head out a couple of moments later after I call for a taxi, then giving myself a stern talking-to as we walk down the stairs to the hotel lobby. Each wooden tread creaks faintly under the carpet. We know next to nothing about each other, despite my attraction. He’s a stranger. It’s just brain chemistry doing its usual thing due to close quarters, I tell myself. Hormones. It doesn’t mean anything real.

Not like what he must have had with Billy. Or what I had once with my ex. It’s just an arrangement of convenience, to get us through a couple of events, and then that’s it. Mission over, back to normal. He’ll find his way back with Billy. I’ll find… well, who knows what I’ll find, but it’ll probably be a while before I find anyone because I’m just starting out and don’t even have my own place to live. So, there’s that.

Pushing that all out of my head, I watch Brighton’s city streets slide past. And with the smallest sidelong glance and hidden goose bumps, I take Florian’s hand in mine. At the inevitable eyebrow, all I say with a straight face is, “Rule 2: Authenticity practice.”

Chapter Twenty

Like we practiced at the rehearsal the night before, Caden and Paul are successfully married off on the beach beneath bright skies before a cloud burst sends the guests running and laughing into the hotel bar for a drink. We had thrown rose petals at them, now sticking damply to everyone and everything, leaving a trail of pink and red.

Cozied up in a corner with Florian, it’s us and eighty other guests making me pity the bartending staff, since this bar hadn’t been in the forecast either. We’re only temporarily here ’til we troop over to the reception venue after the squall passes. Meanwhile, the lucky first arrivals have drinks, while the rest of us wait in a meandering and haphazard queue.