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“It is probably already trending on social media!” She isn’t wrong. I have literally just dumped us both into a shitstorm. I sit on the sofa, thinking for a beat. I have to come up with something. Emily continues to pace back and forth before me, and the longer I look at her, I’m determined to not retreat out of this deal. She felt way too good in my arms.
It comes to me then. My eyes flick to hers, and almost as if she can sense it, she looks at me suspiciously.
“What?” she barks.
“Let’s pretend,” I say carefully, wanting to ensure I position this right. My mind is working in overdrive now, bringing the plan together. I still don’t know how to combat Beasley, but I will have to work out something. Figure it out as we go. He isn’t going to like it, but I am a professional, and I keep my private life private. I can move off working the case directly and just leave it to Michael, if need be.
“Pretend?” She stops pacing and looks at me, her brow crumpled, her gaze hard.
“Yes. You will be my fake fiancée for a few months, and I will do something for you in return,” I offer, confident my idea will work.
“Have lost your goddamn mind?” I try not to take her response personally. Any other woman would jump at the chance to be engaged to me. Apparently just not this one.
“It could be a perfect plan…” Perfect might be a stretch. Sitting up straighter, I lean forward, setting my elbows on my knees as I look up at her.
“It’s a terrible plan,” she retorts with an exasperated huff.
“Well, okay. Maybe just perfect for me, then. Being with you will most certainly get Sasha off my back. What can I do to make you say yes to this? Whatever you want, just say the word.” Maybe I shouldn’t give her free rein, but I’ll do just about anything. She finally stops working a dent in my overpriced rug, coming to stand directly in front of me, hands on her hips.
“How about start with this… What even are the terms of this fake fiancée agreement?” Emily asks, making me acutely aware of her intelligence. Relaxing back, I cross my ankle over my knee, allowing me to get a better look at her power stance.
“Give me one month. Dinner one night a week and one weekend night, photos, maybe a work function. We will need to spend time together. I need her to see us out and about, being romantic, and then I am sure she will get the picture and leave me the hell alone.”
“The whole city will get the picture!” Emily seethes, her hand going to her head like she has a migraine before it falls and her hands land on her hips once more. With a deep inhale, she steps even closer to me, forcing me to look up again from this position. “As soon as we end this charade, won’t she just come crawling back to you again? How are you so sure this will work? That it will even be worth it?” I wave her off before she’s even finished with her questions. This has to work, and now that I have made the offer, I really want Emily to say yes to me. The rest I don’t even care about anymore. She basically growls at my dismissive action, then narrows her eyes on mine.
“And what exactly do I get in return?” There we go.
“Like I said, anything,” I say, my eyes not-so subtly grazing over her body, taking in the small rise and fall of her perfect breasts with her quickened breaths before my eyes rest on her face to see her smirking.
“Anything, huh?” I nod, albeit a bit hesitantly from the look on her face, acutely aware that I am now signing a deal with the devil. One of my own making.
“I want the school,” she states, leaving no room for misunderstanding. I give her an incredulous look.
“Anything but that. I can’t just sign over multimillion-dollar deals. I have a duty of care to my clients.” If anyone heard that I didn’t represent my clients with one hundred percent integrity, the whole firm would crumble. And as the CEO, I am not about to be the one who lets that happen.
“Okay, let’s circle back to that. How is this going to look to them? Have you even thought about how that could play out? We’ve been in the same room together, in front of him. Don’t you think that’s weird? We certainly didn’t act like we were engaged.” Her hip pops as her arms cross over her chest as she stares down at me like I’m a royal idiot. Which wouldn’t be totally incorrect, considering every question she’s asking is one that hasn’t crossed my mind on my own.
“I will work it out, offer them full disclosure. Lay my cards on the table. I will tell them you are it for me and leave it to Michael to manage the client, just like he has been doing,” I offer, then internally wince, knowing that I now need to inform my brother so Harrison can be aware of what is happening. The realities of my deal are now starting to seep into my bones.
“Fine. Here it is. Wednesday afternoons, you will volunteer at the school for art class,” she states, and I nod my head easily. That isn’t too bad. I will have to shuffle meetings, but surely art class is only for an hour tops, and I can work in the car while in transit.
“On Saturday mornings, you will assist with swimming lessons at the local pool,” she says, and again, I nod. I can cope with that too.
“Anything else?” I ask, searching her face. There’s got to be more. She hasn’t asked for much, and to be honest, she could ask me for anything but the school—money being the obvious thing many women want when with a man like me, that and a bump in the society rankings tier. I wonder what she really hopes to get out of this.
“Just… no planned media interviews or articles. I will do this fake engagement. I can hide from the paparazzi, but I want to stay out of the media as much as possible.” I hear vulnerability in her tone, so unlike how she usually sounds. It’s another thing that is different about her. Any other female would be Instagramming our every date from start to finish for the world to see, yet this one doesn’t even want to be seen with me.
“The paparazzi will always try to get a shot. But I will protect you the best I can. You have my word.” And I mean it. I will keep her safe. Nobody will ever touch this woman on my watch.
She nods, her eyes pinning mine, an unspoken truce running between us.
“Then I guess it’s a deal,” she says, extending her hand for me to shake on it.
“Deal,” I reply, grabbing her soft hand, our handshake firmly sealing our fate.
Without another word, she turns and grabs her bag to leave, and I can’t resist. “So can I call you wifey?” I smirk at her, and she rolls her eyes. As I open my office door, Sandra struts up to us.
“Ben, Harrison called and said to remind you of your midday appointment. He is meeting you there.” Harrison, Tennyson, Eddie, and I have a weekly lunch at the corner bar down the street. Nodding to Sandra, I look at Emily.
