Page 21 of Not That Into You

His brows wing up as he checks his watch. “I’m right on time.”

“I thought we were meeting for coffee,” I say, putting my hands on my hips.

“We are.”

I tip my head toward the store behind me. “This isn’t a coffee shop.”

“Nothing gets by you, Matthews.” He rolls his eyes, making me frown in response. “Here.” He hands me a to-go cup of coffee. “See? Coffee.”

I eye the cup suspiciously.

“Relax. I got you an Americano free of any additives. Just like you, it’s bitter with no sugar. You can put your scowl away.”

I narrow my eyes and then shrug before taking a sip. Because coffee. “Why are we here?”

“Let’s go inside.”

He grabs my arm and pulls me into the store as I struggle not to spill my Americano. I yank my arm out of his grasp and stop to look around.

I was wrong. It’s not really a store; it’s a boutique. A very expensive boutique if the fine fabrics, rarefied air, and dollar signs floating above the clothes are any indication.

I have a bad feeling about this.

“Seriously. Why are we here? I thought we were meeting to go over ground rules and talk about our game plan for this weekend.” When we’d talked on the phone, I’d agreed to his ridiculous proposal on the condition we established clear boundaries.

I knew he agreed too quickly.

“We are.”

“We’re going to talk here?”

“Yes. We can kill two birds with one stone. You need clothes for this weekend, and while you’re trying them on, we can discuss logistics.”

“Excuse me? I need clothes?”

Ignoring me, he smiles broadly at the sophisticated woman walking toward us.

“Cameron.” The woman smiles, her eyes trained on him.

“Eliza.” They exchange kisses, and I get the sense both of them have forgotten I’m there.

Cameron steps back. “This is Monica.”

“Monica, welcome.” While Eliza smiles, dread pools in my stomach. She seems to take my measure, assessing how much work needs to be done. It’s a lot if I’m supposed to look as polished and shiny as her.

I smile tightly.

Eliza turns back to Cameron. “I pulled everything we discussed and started a dressing room. If you’ll just follow me.”

She walks away, confident we’ll follow.

However, my feet remain rooted to the floor as I look at Cameron and cross my arms. “What’s going on?”

“I thought that would be obvious.”

“I thought I was signing up to be your girlfriend, not your blow-up doll.”

He cocks his head. “Blow-up dolls don’t require clothes. Though they do have other interesting properties I’d be happy to discuss.”

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