Page 78 of Pretending I'm Yours

Everything is coming together, all because I decided to stop playing it safe and go after what I wanted for the first time in mylife. Even if this magical thing with Anthony goes up in smoke in the New Year, I’ll never regret the time we’ve spent together or all the things I’ve learned in just a week of living boldly.

But I don’t see the magic fading anytime soon, not when every day with this man is somehow better than the last.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Anthony says now, his hand warm on my lower back as we follow the hostess through the elegant space toward our table. Crystal chandeliers cast intimate pools of light over white-clothed tables, and the band plays soft jazz from a small stage near the dance floor, adding to the vintage holiday feel in the restaurant.

“Just thinking about magic.” I lean into him. “And how excited I am to start work at the apartment building. Mark my words, I’m going to be in the black and paying you back in six months. I see great things in the future.”

He grins. “I do, too, but don’t worry about paying me back so fast. I told you, I don’t care when you start making payments. Or…ifyou make payments at all.”

I wrinkle my nose at him as we reach a corner table with an unobstructed view of both the city and the dance floor, where a bottle of champagne already waits in an ice bucket. Anthony pulls out my chair, and I settle in, smoothing my new dress as I sit. It’s an elegant navy silk number, another gift from Anthony that was waiting for me at the hotel this afternoon.

He really has to stop buying me things, but I can’t deny he has great taste. I would never have considered navy for an evening gown, but the color brings out the blue in my eyes and the pink in my cheeks and looks effortlessly elegant.

“I told you, I don’t want a sugar daddy,” I whisper as the hostess walks away, leaving us to peruse the menu. “This is a loan, one I will pay back as soon as possible before moving on to further New York City real estate domination.”

His eyes glitter with amusement as he studies me across the table.

“What?” I ask, arching a brow. “I’m serious.”

“I know you are,” he says. “I love it. Your ambition is sexy. And I have no doubt you’re going to make it work. Your plan for turning the lobby into two studio apartments is brilliant. There’s a scarcity of studios in that area. You’ll boost your revenue in a serious way while also filling a need for the community.”

“Thank you.” I sit up straighter in my chair as I pick up my menu, enjoying his praise. I love how supportive we are of each other. It feels so good to know he has my back and that I’ll always have his. “I mean, I’d rather have my own small apartment than have to live with a roommate for the rest of my twenties.” I cast a playful look Anthony’s way over the top of the heavy cardstock. “Though my new roommate isn’t so bad.”

“I’m not your roommate,” he says, his gaze narrowing in playful irritation. “I’m your partner.”

I bite my lip, enjoying that more every time he says it. Anthony said he felt too old to be a “boyfriend,” and while I don’t think he’s even close to old, I agreed he was too distinguished for such an adolescent word.

He’s not a boy; he’s a man. And “partner” is the perfect word to describe what he is to me. What we are to each other.

We’re partners. The help doesn’t just flow my way. We’ve spent hours brainstorming ideas for what comes next for Anthony, too, and he loved my suggestion that he should consider applying for a teaching position at one of the universities in the area. He wants to get back to the pure beauty of math that he once loved so much, and he clearly enjoys mentoring people.

Besides, I have some serious “professor” fantasies that I wouldn’t mind living out when I go visit Anthony at his office after hours…

“You are,” I agree, brushing his leg with my foot beneath the table. “You’re also my lover. Which is also much better than a roommate.”

“Damned straight.” He pours champagne into delicate flutes. “You look beautiful tonight. Maybe I should become a personal shopper. I have great taste in clothes.”

I grin. “You do. Though I think your brilliant mind might get bored with fashion after a while.”

“Especially if I’m not shopping for you,” he agrees. “You’re my fashion muse. I’ve already ordered a few things for the ski trip in February, by the way. All you’ll need to shop for are base layers and socks. I couldn’t get excited about socks.”

“I have base layers and warm socks. I’m a Maine girl,” I say, a wave of giddy excitement rising inside of me again.

We already have plans to take a ski trip with Sydney and Gideon, and to have dinner with Weaver and Sully as soon as they’re back in the city. Two weeks ago, I was reluctantly single and not sure I’d ever lose my virginity, let alone fall in love. Now, I have plans for the future with the man of my dreams. A man who looks at me like I’m all he’s ever wanted and all he’ll ever need.

Maybe it’s crazy to believe this is all going to work out after just seven days, but I do.

I believe in miracles. And in this man.

“Love you,” he says, his eyes soft in the candlelight. “And I really love it when you look at me like that.”

“Like I’m never going to let you go?” I whisper.

He holds my gaze, making my nerve endings prickle with awareness. “Yes.” A slow, wicked smile stretches across his lips as he adds, “And like you can’t wait to be naked and alone with me at the earliest convenience.”

I grin as I murmur behind my glass, “Well, I am a very dirty girl.”

“The dirtiest. And the best.” He lifts his glass toward mine. “To new beginnings.”

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