Page 44 of The Roommate Subtext

“That’s good. I know you wanted to spend some more time with her. How’s the new relationship?”

“Still new, but Cora seems happy.” Really happy, in a way Maggie hadn’t seen in a while. It made Maggie even more reluctant to share anything to take away Cora’s smile. Like the fact that their parents’ financial records had been officially subpoenaed, according to a call from James earlier that afternoon. It’s normal, Chauvel had reassured her when she’d emailed. I told you I’d take care of it. She’d been trying not to think of it. She brought her attention back to the present, to the meal, to Blake sitting here looking as good as the food he’d brought.

That probably wasn’t a better line of thought. She needed conversation. “How was the board meeting?”

A few strands of hair tumbled over his forehead, and her fingers itched to brush them back. “Pretty good. We mostly talked about the benefit gala.”

Blake had mentioned the gala a few times. “That’s coming up, right?”

“Next weekend. Which reminds me.” He hesitated again, an expression on his face like he might be ill.

“You OK, there? It’s not the naan, is it?” Maggie’s tasted fine.

“No, I was wondering if—if you’d like to go with me. To the gala.” He didn’t pause before pressing on. “I’ve got to do a presentation, and schmooze with a bunch of rich people, and the board chair thinks I’ll have more success if I have a date.” He blanched. “Not that this would be a date, we’re just friends, but I think it’s about the illusion or something. I’m more appealing with someone on my arm, I guess.”

Maggie almost felt bad for him. “You don’t ask girls out too often, do you?”

Blake took a moment to process the insult before his mouth dropped open. “Hey!” When she started laughing, he whacked her on the leg with a cloth napkin. “And I said, it’s not a date.”

“Yeah, you said that a couple of times.” Maggie smiled. “Sure, why not? I’ve got nothing going on. It’ll be fun.”

“Good! Good. Thanks. I know you said one time that you like dressing up.” He exhaled, visibly relieved.

Maggie looked at the takeout containers spread out on the table. “Wait, is this why you brought me home India Joy? So I would say yes?”

Blake nodded, not even attempting to lie, and tore off another piece of naan. “I’m not above bribery.”

“It’s a good plan.” Maggie returned to her meal. “I imagine this is really formal, yeah?”

“Black tie.” Blake chewed the naan. “I rented a tux.”

She didn’t have anything suitable for an event that fancy. “I’ll need to get a dress.” Oh, shit, she didn’t have much time. “I’ll need to get a dress this week.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Blake said, “since you’re doing me a favor.”

Maggie normally wouldn’t worry about that, but who knew what the future would hold? She’d take him up on it. “That’s nice of you. It might be a couple hundred dollars, though.”

“That’s fine. Submit your receipts to the billing department.” He smiled. “And you should definitely get the pizza next time.”

Maggie laughed. “That seems fair.” She chased some rice around her plate. “What’s the vibe? Do you want to do the whole ‘fake dating’ thing? Do you want femme fatale, devoted partner, demure girl next door? These all factor into my dress choices.”

Blake blanched. “Will one of those raise more money than the others?”

She hummed around a forkful of rice, then swallowed. “They all have their merits. The real trick is to look like the femme fatale but act like the girl next door. I’m not sure I can pull that off, but I can at least try to be the devoted and supportive girlfriend as you talk to a bunch of rich assholes.”

He made a face and ate some more naan. “It feels kind of sleazy.”

“It’s for a good cause, right? Let them fork over some cash for something good for a change instead of, I don’t know, paying hush money to sex workers and bribing government employees.” She shrugged.

“You don’t have a very good view of the rich.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Which is complicated, because my parents were rich, and technically I’m rich too, if I liquidated all my investments …” She stopped. Unless it all gets taken away. “I’m probably an asshole, too.”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole.” He said the words quietly, like the whole conversation wasn’t a bit silly.

“Thanks. I try not to be.” She swallowed another bite. “All right, then. I’ll be your sweet girlfriend who happens to think you’re absolutely delightful, and you’ll charm all the super-rich assholes, and your company can use their money to put in gardens and save the world.”

Blake nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Although I’m not sure we can save the world from one gala.”