Page 11 of French Martini

I’maware of Lowen and the guys staring at me like I’ve turned green, and as much as I’d like to know why, I keep my ass in my seat and look at the menu I’ve already memorized. It’s not like I’m going to get anything other than the fried chicken sandwich I always get for lunch. It’s phenomenal.

Jess and Mike are chatting about the job we have this afternoon while I pretend to be engaged in the topic, keeping one eye trained on Lowen. Is he freaking out about our night together? He was normal this morning, if avoidant, but I expected as much. I hope he doesn’t think it’s weird that I’m here to eat lunch. I come here almost every day unless I’m at a job too far away.

I catch Lowen walking in my direction from the corner of my eye, and even as my stomach flips, I do my best to stay outwardly chill.

“Hey, Oak.”

I look up, acting surprised to see him. “Hey, Low.”

“Can I speak with you for a moment?” His gaze shifts between my workers, then back to me. “Alone, please.”

“Uh, sure.” I stand and follow him down the hall to the office. I can’t imagine what he needs to tell me right now that requires privacy.

Lowen waits for me to pass him then closes the door. He wrings his hands together and his cheeks flush pink.

“Is something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “No. Yes. Um…” He huffs a nervous laugh. “Not wrong per se. Unusual is a better word, perhaps.”

I lean on the desk and cross my arms across my chest. “Okay.”

“There’s this award thing and it’s for me and there’s a big ceremony with a lot of gross appearances and obligations and it’s in New Onyx and I basically have to go even though I really don’t want to. I mean it is an amazing honor it’s just that whole thing is so awful and awkward and the reason I left Paris but it’s here and they want me to present and?—”

“Whoa. Lowen, take a breath, my guy.”

He pauses, snapping his mouth shut. After a pause, he nods. “Sorry.”

“You won an award?”

“I’m being honored for my work through a prestigious Parisian publication. They’re opening a branch here in New Onyx and subsequently decided to have the awards ceremony here.”

“That’s amazing, Low. Why don’t you want to go?”

He blanches and clears his throat. “My ex-husband is a co-host.”

“Oh.”

“I haven’t seen him since the day I left the courthouse, and I don’t want to, but it would be worse if I didn’t show. As my friends pointed out, I earned this honor.”

“Yeah, of course.” I’m still wondering why he’s telling me all of this, but there’s clearly a reason so I wait for him to continue.

“He’s engaged again,” Lowen says, but instead of hurt, I hear a fiery determination in his voice. “I can’t show up single. The press, and Alain, will have a field day stirring up all the drama from before.” He looks up at me, pretty blue eyes framed by impossibly long eyelashes. “I have a huge favor to ask.”

“You need a date?”

He shakes his head, but it morphs into a sort-of nod instead. “It’s a tad more complicated than that. It’s likely a ridiculous idea, but it does have some merit once I thought it through. It just has to be done with finesse to make it believable, because being caught in a lie would be far worse than going solo and you make the most sense given the weirdly valid points that Salem and Ridley made and it’s asking a lot of you and I totally understand why you would say no but desperate times and all that not that I mean that negatively.”

I nod as if anything he just said made any sense. “Can you break that down for me?”

“Right.” He blows out a breath. “I need you to pretend to be wildly in love with me and, ideally, that we’re engaged.”

My jaw drops. That’s not at all what I was expecting. “Engaged?”

“Like I said, it’s ridiculous and I know this but?—”

“Why is it ridiculous?” Does he think I’m not good enough for him or his crowd of people?

His brow creases as he takes a step toward me. “It’s ridiculous in the sense of putting on a show for a bunch of pretentious assholes for their unimportant approval, but the alternative is having my personal life dragged out in public again. The alternative is Alain’s smug superiority. I should be above it, but I’m not. I’d be subjecting you to a week of shallow nonsense and meaningless small talk. It’s a lot to ask.”

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