Page 14 of Faking It with the Off-Limits Doctor

I sigh because I am clearly not explaining this very well. Or maybe I am and he’s just mocking me for his own entertainment.

“Not here. Not in Riverdale,” I reply.

“Maybe I’ve decided that the city is no longer for me,” he counters, expertly avoiding answering the question.

“Is that your reason? You’ve suddenly taken a liking to the slow lane, so you’ve moved into this huge house?”

I’m not buying it, if that’s the line he’s trying to sell. I don’t know this man very well, but the little I do know tells me that his reasoning isn’t enough. He’s a big shot in the city. He’s a billionaire who can afford to live anywhere he likes. Why here? It’s such a drastic move, and completely opposite to his life in the city.

“I have found, since I’ve been here, that I’m quite enjoying the peace and quiet. I’d forgotten how quiet country life could be.”

I frown at him. “You lived in the country before?”

He smiles, and I can’t help but admire how handsome he looks when he does it. It’s not something I’ve seen him do very often, and when he has, it’s always looked like it’s taken him great effort. But the smile he’s giving me now is genuine. And a little smug.

“You think I’m originally from the city?” he asks, clearly amused.

“I suppose I always did,” I say, now realizing I was wrong. “Where are you from then?”

“Cherryville,” he says plainly. “It’s not quite as small and remote as Riverdale, but I do have memories of a time before speeding buses, beeping taxis, and sirens going all day and all night.”

“Right,” I say, feeling completely put in my place.

Well, that’s told me.

Trying to cover my behind, I offer an olive branch. “So, this is you coming back to your roots?”

He shrugs. “Of sorts.”

I don’t want to make anymore of a fool of myself, so I decide to change the subject entirely.

“Okay, well, I’m going to need a few more things for the dinner party. You have all the appliances, but I need utensils, trays and serving dishes.”

“That can be arranged,” Alex says. “So, you still want to do it?”

“Sure. I mean, look at this kitchen.” I throw my hands out to everything around us. “This is a chef’s dream.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence and then I feel like things are getting weird.

“Okay, well, I better get going.”

“Here.” He grabs his wallet and begins rummaging in it.

“No, it’s Okay. You don’t need to pay me now. We can sort all that out later.”

And then my face goes bright red as he hands me a business card. He’s trying so hard not to smirk at my presumptuous comment. I, on the other hand, just want to fall through these beautiful marble tiles and let the earth swallow me up.

“My number,” he says, trying to keep the smile out of his voice. “I’d be grateful if you could send me yours. That way, I can let you know if anything changes.”

Snatching the card, I hurry past him, not able to look him in the eye.

“Sure. I’ll do that.”

I get to the front door and just keep going. I’m nearly at my car when I hear his voice again.

“Goodbye for now, Dara.”

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