Page 80 of The Boyfriend Experience

“No, you’re going. I mean, what the fuck is she doing?”

“Well, I guess she’s going to tell me, right? That’s why she wants me to drive all the way out to Boulder and meet her.”

“At her bar?”

“Yeah.”

Oaklee goes quiet again.

“I’d rather have dinner with you, so… just say the word and I’ll call her back and cancel.”

“No,” Oaklee says. “No. She’s up to something and you need to find out what it is. So you’re going to dinner with her, and if she hits on you, you play along, OK? The Boyfriend Experience. Just try to figure out why she’s doing all this. Like… what did I ever do to her?”

I make a face. It’s some cross between sad, exhausted, and resigned. “Sure,” I say. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Call me when you’re done.”

And then she hangs up on me too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - OAKLEE

I pace back and forth after I hang up with Law. Chewing my thumbnail, packed up tight with anxiety over this little move Hanna just pulled.

What does it mean? What is she doing? I mean, obviously she wants Lawton. I don’t think Law is interested in her, so I’m not too worried about that part.

But how long before she works her devil magic and has him wrapped around her little finger just like everyone else?

There’s a part of me who thinks this whole boyfriend experience is enough to keep him, but is it? Is it really? I mean, we have a deal. He helps me figure out Hanna and I help him get this TV show.

He needs me.

But I don’t want him to need me. Not that way. I want him to like me. And not just as a business prop, either. I want him to like me for me. I want him to be with me. Date me. Maybe even… love me.

Eventually.

Some day.

Maybe.

It could happen.

We have a connection, I think we both feel that. And we had so much great sex last weekend, it was like an avalanche of orgasms.

So we definitely know we’re compatible.

I stop pacing and look out my window at his terrace.

God, I’m fucking insane. I should’ve never let him take this job. And I should’ve never agreed to be his partner. Because now we’re all mixed up in business. I’m practically having a workplace affair.

My office phone buzzes on my desk, so I walk over and pick it up.

“Oaklee,” I say. It’s someone from down in the brewery since this is a dedicated line.

“Um… Oaklee? This is Dana? From the bar?”

“Yes, Dana?” She’s been with me for three years as the daytime bar manager and she still says this every single time she calls my work phone.

She sighs. “OK, everyone told me not to say anything to you, so don’t tell anyone it was me.”