Page 26 of He Falls First

“Relax,” Hendrix murmurs, somehow reading the tension in my arm linked with his. “Act like you belong here more than any of these stuffed shirts. Because you do.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter back, fighting the urge to smooth down my dress for the umpteenth time. His confidence is infuriatingly sexy, but it’s also contagious. He moves through the lobby as if he owns the place, which, knowing him, isn’t too far off the mark.

I keep telling myself that this closeness is just a fake-out to trick his investors. But the warmth of his hand through the silky fabric of my dress makes it really hard to remember we’re just pretending.

Especially now that I have the memory of his lips on mine and his hands all over me after we made out the other day. Still not quite sure if that really happened or if it was just some fever dream of mine, but every time Hendrix’s dark gaze passes over my lips, I’m pretty sure he’s remembering it, too.

We walk into the grand ballroom, filled with sparkling lights and the sound of clinking glasses, and it feels like everyone’s staring at us. The show’s really starting now, and I’m super conscious of the faux-diamond ring on my finger. It looks real enough to fool a sultan and feels tight around my finger, like a promise I never really made.

“Keep your chin up,” he instructs, his voice low and controlled. “You’re the most desirable person in this room, and you know it.”

I swallow and cross one leg in front of the other, because it feels like that’s what it’s going to take to keep my loins from flooding the place. I shouldn’t get this damn wet from his compliments. They mean nothing, except that our dating lessons have begun.

“Smile, but not too much,” Hendrix coaches under his breath, his lips barely moving. “We’re happy, but we’re not trying to win an election.”

“Got it. Be cool. Be aloof.” In other words, be nothing like I usually am. I do my best to plaster on a smirk that screams ‘untouchable’ rather than ‘unhinged.’

“Exactly.” He guides me with a hand that rests a little too naturally at the small of my back. “Now, let’s make them believe it.”

“Walk of fame or walk of shame?” I quip, though a part of me is already caught up in the fantasy of it all, playing pretend with a man who could command a boardroom with a glance.

“Neither,” Hendrix says, his eyes scanning the crowd like a hawk. “This is the march of conquest. By the end of the night, they won’t just believe we’re engaged—they’ll wish they were us.”

“Talk about an ego.” I want to roll my eyes, but I can’t deny the thrill that zips through me as he leads me forward, every step measured, every gesture calculated. If I’m honest, having Hendrix so close, playing the part of my devoted fiancé, sends a shiver down my spine that feels suspiciously like excitement.

“Remember, Elizabeth,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear, “confidence is silent. Insecurities are loud.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to be the strong, silent type,” I whisper back.

“That’s right.” He nods, and his approval sends a warm tingle through my chest. “Keep that up, and soon enough, they’ll buy this whole charade. Hook, line, and sinker.”

“Here’s hoping.”

“Hello there! You must be Hendrix’s lovely fiancée.” A middle-aged woman with a kind smile greets me as we mingle among the well-dressed Nexus Tech employees and their spouses.

“Hi! I’m Elizabeth Summers.” I extend my hand for a friendly shake.

“Nice to meet you, Elizabeth. I’m Janice, and this is my husband, Bill.” She gestures to the tall man beside her, who gives me a polite nod.

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” Bill says, raising his glass of champagne.

“Thank you!” I beam, trying to channel the confidence Hendrix has been urging me to project. “I’m so lucky to have found someone like him.”

“Speaking of luck, where did you two lovebirds meet?” Janice asks, leaning in like she’s waiting for an exciting story.

“Ah, well, it’s quite funny, actually—” I start, only to realize that Hendrix and I never discussed a backstory for our fake relationship. Panicking slightly, I glance over at Hendrix, who swoops in just in time.

“Elizabeth and I met at a mutual friend’s party,” he explains smoothly, wrapping his arm around my waist. “We were both reaching for the same hors d’oeuvre, and our hands brushed. Then she set me on fire.”

Janice’s eyes go huge. “You mean that in a literal sense?”

Hendrix coughs. “Erm—”

“Honey, I think what you mean to say is that our connection was electric,” I cut in with a giggle. “My Hendrix isn’t always the smoothest talker. I tease him about it all the time. But that’s what he has me for!”

Hendrix smiles at me with surprise on his face, and I wrinkle my nose at him.

As soon as Janice and Bill have moved off, he leans in. “I was going to go with the version where you literally set me on fire, you know. It’s not what I meant originally, but it sounded like a fun twist.”

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