Page 15 of He Falls First

Hendrix and Matt exchange a look, like there’s something I don’t know and I’m not going to like it.

“What?” I chew my lip.

“According to our contracts, my position at this company may still be up in the air,” Hendrix says.

I look between them. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Matt says, “that for the next six weeks, Cromwell could still take this company back. He wanted a trial period to make sure it’s the right fit, and if he doesn’t like how Hendrix is handling himself, he’ll kick him out.”

“Which is why you wanted me to help him with his temper.” I swallow. “But that- that means…”

“That means we’re going to have to keep up with the engagement charade,” Hendrix says. “For the next six weeks.”

“Six weeks!” The words burst from me like soda from a shaken can. “You mean we have to pretend that whole time?”

“Seems so,” Matt says.

“Absolutely not.” I stand up, feeling my resolve harden. “Look, I’m all for going the extra mile, but this is- this is…”

This is nuts. I almost blurt out exactly that, but there are more diplomatic ways to turn down your boss’s fake proposal, right? Words fail me, and I throw my hands up in exasperation.

“Lizzy.” Matt steps forward, his eyebrows knitting together with concern. “Think about how it’ll look if Hendrix backpedals now. What would he say, that you guys broke up already? Admit you were never engaged in the first place? Either way, Cromwell will smell weakness, and sharks will start circling.”

“Sharks?” I snort despite myself. “Great, add aquatic predators to the list of office hazards.”

“Listen,” Hendrix begins, his voice carrying that infuriating confidence that suggests he could negotiate peace treaties or order take-out with the same level of gravity. “It’s just six weeks. We maintain appearances, secure the contract, and then—”

“Then what?” I interrupt, cutting through his spiel. “You announce another spur-of-the-moment decision? Like maybe you’ve decided to move to Mars?”

“Elizabeth,” he says, and there’s a softness there I hadn’t expected. It’s disarming, but I remind myself that soft words don’t soften lies.

“Matt, back me up here,” I plead, turning towards him. But the traitor just shuffles his feet, avoiding my gaze.

“Sorry, Liz. The guy’s got a point. It’s just bad business to go back on your word, even if that word was, uh, unexpected.”

“Please, just think about it, Elizabeth,” Hendrix adds. He has a little frown on his face, like he’s not used to begging. “Don’t write this off just yet.”

My mind races. This isn’t what I signed up for. This isn’t who I am. But there’s a tiny, treacherous part of me that whispers: What if…?

“Fine,” I say at last, the word tasting like defeat. “I’ll consider it, as long as we can set some ground rules.”

“Of course,” Hendrix agrees too quickly.

“Ground rules,” Matt echoes, nodding as he heads for the door. “I’ll get started on a contract.”

“Contract?” I blink at him.

“Can’t have a fake engagement without a real contract,” Hendrix says, a half-smile playing on his lips. “We should put your ground rules in writing.”

“Right.” I manage a weak chuckle.

“I do understand your hesitations,” Hendrix says, his voice a low rumble that does annoying things to my insides.

He strides over, all purpose and power, and places his hands on my shoulders, grounding me to the spot. The memory of him declaring undying love—albeit fake—flashes through my mind, sending a shiver over my skin. Is he about to make another sweeping statement that turns my world upside down?

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he says. “What if I offer you a year’s salary for these six weeks of partnership?”

Partnership. What a sanitized word for this mess.

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