Page 21 of Faking It with the Off-Limits Doctor

I’m on my way out to the porch when that thought stops me in my tracks. Holding my wine glass halfway to my lips, I pause everything, as though time has stood still.

Could I really do that? Could I have her working for me full time?

I continue outside onto the decking and lower myself into the rocking chair. Like every night, the crickets sing across the fields, but rather than relax as I ordinarily do, my mind begins to whirls.

In fact, an even crazier thought enters my head. Something that originated from what Mike said the other day.

“You should hire a girlfriend for the night,” he teases. “I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Am I completely mad, or would that actually work? More to the point, would Dara be up for it?

I could make her an offer she couldn’t refuse. She mentioned something tonight that I hadn’t known about. Something I could easily make a reality.

This is crazy. She’ll never go for it.

No. Of course, she wouldn’t. She’s far too principled for that. Maybe this wine has gone to my head. But now the thought is in there, I can’t get it out. In fact, rather than dismiss it as ridiculous, I’m looking at the option from every angle.

She’s wasted in that diner, and we both know it. While she won’t tell me what happened with Dino and the restaurant, I know something bad went down. She loved working there, and besides, it was the opportunity of a lifetime for a country girl. It’s obvious to me, and especially after tonight, that she pines for that life again.

A wave of exhaustion washes over me, and I realize I need to go to bed. Maybe, after a good night’s sleep, this entire inner dialogue will be laughable in the morning.

I shuffle into the house and make my way to the kitchen. I take a minute to look around it. It’s completely spotless. She refused to leave until it was as clean as it was before she arrived, but as I’m looking at it now, I’m pretty sure it’s cleaner.

I can’t help myself. I stand there a little longer and imagine what it would be like having her working in it full time.

I do need a chef while I’m here, right?

Go to bed.

All right, I’m going.

I wash my glass, take a final look around the kitchen, and smile to myself. Something tells me that tomorrow morning, this idea will still be lingering, and the strange thing is, I think I like it.

I wake at 5:30 like I always do, and as habit would have it, I throw on my running gear and leave the house. I love this time of the morning. It’s like I’m privileged to spend a little time with nature before the rest of the world wakes up. It’s the time of the day I clear my head and ready myself for what’s to come.

Only this morning, my head isn’t clear at all, and no matter how hard my feet pound against the road, I still can’t shift the crazy idea from last night. By the time I get back and I’m in the shower, I’m bargaining with myself.

I won’t know unless I ask her.

At which point, she’ll tell you you’re nuts and refuse to ever cook for you again.

I don’t think so. I think she enjoyed herself too much last night. It was written all over her face. Even as exhausted as she was, she clearly loved every minute of it.

Fine, but cooking for a one-off dinner party is a far cry from what you’re proposing.

Maybe, but in the end, she’ll be happy. She’ll get what she really wants.

You mean, if she’s still speaking to you afterwards. And then there’s Mark.

That thought brings me up short. In all my reasoning, Mark hasn’t even come into the equation. He had been crystal clear about staying away from Dara. But surely that was in the biblical sense. This would just be a business arrangement. Besides, he’s not here. This will be over and done with before he even returns.

You’re walking on very thin ice here.

Yes, I am. But then, I’ve already put too much into this deal to give up now, so I’m going to put my life jacket on and hope the water isn’t too cold when I finally fall through.

When Mark told me to stay away from Dara, his directive was specifically aimed at a romantic relationship. I wouldn’t exactly be breaking the rules. It’s not like we’d be going out for real.

So, after I shower and dress, and entirely ignoring my conscience, I go down to my office and lift my phone. With her number sitting there on the screen before me, I hesitate for a few seconds.

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