Page 24 of The Dating Contract

“Oh,” she managed. Because it was gorgeous. Bold colors, red and blue, the center ice of the rink she spent the most time at, covered in microcalligraphy, blank lines at the hashmarks of the ice.

“You don’t…like it?”

Far from it. So far from it that if they weren’t running late already, she would have leaned across the table, erasing the space between them, and kissed him. “It’s gorgeous,” she said instead. “I really, really like it.”

She also liked the shy smile that spread across his face.

“Really?”

She nodded. He was a star on the verge and he didn’t believe it, which was something she valued after years of representing athletes who acted like the world revolved around them because they could shoot a puck. “You’re good,” she said. “You’re really good at what you do. You’re ridiculously talented.”

“I know you don’t like talking about things, but I will say that it means a lot coming from you.”

She didn’t know what had come over her, but she couldn’t help herself. “You’re welcome.”

Just this once, she closed the space between them, let him lean toward her, and kissed him. Kissed him for knowing her, kissed him for making the contract and kissed him for reasons she didn’t want to acknowledge.

When he broke the kiss, she found herself breathless.

“This was…a bad idea or a good idea?”

“It was my idea,” she said, “and I don’t even know the answer to the question, but I’ll tell you that I don’t regret it.”

“I don’t either. Does it change anything?”

She shook her head, even as her thoughts were spinning wildly out of control. “No. It doesn’t. Is there somewhere I can sign?”

He pointed to the long black line at the bottom of the parchment. “Usually we’d need witnesses, but people knowing is the last thing we want at this point, right?”

“Right,” she said, still debating whether she needed to tell Naomi what was going on. But this wasn’t the time; they had things to do. So instead of asking him anything else, she took the pen and signed the contract. And then she capped it before passing it his way.

She watched the muscles of his forearms move as he signed and dated it, making them, and it, official.

Operation ‘Fake Dating the Hot Sofer’ was a go. She didn’t know if she’d survive it, but she had no choice at this point; she’d signed the contract and made the commitments.

“So,” he said, swallowing, breaking her concentration, probably for the best.

She could see the flush run across his face, and she didn’t want to hear him try to explain its origin beyond the fact that it was starting to get hot and humid outside. “Is there anything I need to know about tonight, other than you’re being observed for a partnership or something…?”

“Don’t say it,” she said. “Please. Just…be. My boss, Gabriel Brucker—call him Bruck or Gabe, he’ll tell you which, and his wife will be hosting, so any discussion about partnerships or anything of that matter, are strictly forbidden.”

He nodded.

The relief that settled down on her shoulders was immeasurable. “And be careful of his wife.”

“Why?”

And that was a long story if anything. How could she explain to someone who wasn’t familiar with the situation? “Because every time she meets someone, she tests them. Deliberately and especially. I’m not sure what she thinks of me, so she might express…ideas.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like what kind of ideas?”

“The sorts of ideas possessed by a fifties housewife,” she said, not even trying to disguise the snort. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I get it. Okay. So I’m acting calm, not pushing back and not pissing off anybody with my ridiculous belief about how people of any gender should be allowed to pursue the career path they want?”

She couldn’t help the laugh that came out of her. “Be careful, because people might get ideas, and start thinking they have options, and that’s never good. And it matters because my boss pays attention to her opinion about people, and she’s testing me because he is.”

He paused and she wondered what was going through his head.

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