Page 68 of My Favorite Holidate

That evening, as I’m drinking champagne and trying on the dress at the stylist’s, I peer in the scalloped full-length mirror, amazed it fits perfectly.

“Someone knows your size,” Arbor coos, standing behind me.

I never told Wilder my size, and yet he knew exactly what to get me. Just like he knew how to play my body.

“He’s good at shopping,” I say, since I can’t get caught up in this gift-giving. It’s part of the fake romance. It’s themagic of make-believe—that’s all. It’s Wilder fake boyfriending like no man has fake boyfriended before.

Arbor chuckles, rolling his playful brown eyes. “Hun, if a man sent me something in my size, it wouldn’t mean he had a knack for shopping. It’d mean he had a knack forme. And your boyfriend has a very big knack for you.”

I fight off the flutters. There’s no point in denying Arbor’s assessment. Aboyfriend is supposed to have a thing for his girlfriend. It’s fake though. That’s all. Today’s tryst in his office was simply a momentary lapse of reason into lust.

And we got that lust out of our systems. That’s all. “We’ll see,” I say evasively, fighting off a smile.

“Oh, yes, hun. We absolutely shall see.” After Arbor selects a pair of sparkly, silver shoes, he blows me an air kiss. “Can’t wait to be right.”

I try once again to stop grinning as he sends me on my way.

I take out my phone to text Josie, Everly, and Maeve to tell them the bad news about the class. But there’s a new text from Wilder on my phone that stops me in my tracks.

Wilder: Rana is free tomorrow night. She’ll be doing a private class for you and your friends if they’re available since you can’t make the one on Thursday. I hope you, Maeve, Everly, and Josie enjoy it. It’s a gift. And a thank you for being my date for the party.

I’m fizzy all over, and I don’t think it’s from the champagne or the orgasms.

No, when he sends the next note, it’s clear that it’s definitely not from either of those.

Wilder: Also, I made a dinner reservation for the four of you at Gabriel’s, a restaurant next to the class, and arranged for a penthouse suite at The Resort if you want to make it into a full-on girls’ night out.

I squeal. I fucking squeal. The man has been offering to comp me a room at his five-star hotel for more than a year. He didn’t wait for me to take him up on his offer. He just did it. And I just love the way he takes control sometimes.

Like a boss.

Fable: Have I told you I owe you the biggest thank you in the world?

Wilder: You owe me nothing. It’s my pleasure to treat you the way you deserve. Whether that means in private suites, on shopping sprees, or…desks.

A hot wave of desire crashes over me.

Fable: I really like desks.

Wilder: Me too.

But still, I have an idea for how to thank him. That night when I’m home I get to work on it, breaking out all my tools.

The next night as Josie, Everly, Maeve, and I arrive at a studio near Japantown, where the paint-and-sip classes are held, my friends can’t stop giving methe look.

“Stop,” I mutter to them as we reach the door.

“Stop what?” Josie asks, faux innocent.

“Stop grinning like that.”

“Like what?” Maeve chimes in.

“Like you all think you know something,” I whisper.

Maeve’s smile ripens. “Oh, I knownothing. Just that your fake date arranged not only a last-minute private paint-and-sip class with a very coveted teacher so you wouldn’t miss it, but also dinner for the four of us at a fabulous new restaurant that’s practically impossible to get into.”

“And he’s comping us a penthouse suite in his hotel,” Everly adds, making the point too.

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