Page 32 of The Plus One Contract

I glance at her scribbled napkin contract, a swirl of casual bullet points and impulsive disclaimers. Something about thatno more sexsets me on edge. But that’s precisely why I need to sign because if I don’t, I’ll find a reason to drag her back to my hotel room when we get off this flight.

Still, caution niggles. I don’t invite people into my world lightly, but this isn’t just about avoiding the loneliness that comes with a high-powered life. I need this deal locked up. This investor’s backing means more than money. It’s the validation of every calculated risk we’ve taken. And Sienna, with her irreverence and charm, might be the perfect accomplice to bridge that gap.

The stakes are higher than a mere charade. If I can pull this off, it will solidify my reputation as a man who gets things done, no matter how unconventional the methods. Every move could either seal the deal or shatter the carefully built image I’ve maintained, and in a world where perception can be worth more than reality, this carefully orchestrated ruse might be my best shot.

Game on.

I grab the pen, scribbling my signature across the napkin before I can talk myself out of it.

Fifteen

Sienna

Ispot the sign before I even fully clear baggage claim, and I swear my soul exits my body for the second time today.

My name—SIENNA BLAKE, WELCOME HOME!—is scrawled across a piece of poster board in bold, black Sharpie, held aloft by none other than my father.

Oh. My. God.

I halt mid-step, causing Nathan to nearly collide with my back. He steadies himself, his hand gently gripping my waist as he peers over my shoulder.

“Something wrong?”

“Do you see that?” I hiss under my breath.

He follows my line of sight, his expression betraying only a flicker of surprise before quickly settling into smug amusement. “Ah. That's subtle.”

“Subtle? I want to die.”

“Dramatic.”

“But true.”

He chuckles, the sound too warm, too comforting given the situation. “I assume that's a relative?”

“It’s my father. He likes to torture me,” I deadpan, resisting the urge to hide behind him.

“Still dramatic.”

“Shut up.” I inhale deeply, squaring my shoulders. “Okay. We’ve got this.”

His brow lifts in question. “We?”

“Yes. We. You’re my fake boyfriend, remember? Time to put your acting skills to work, Mr. Calloway.”

Nathan’s eyes glint with something dangerously close to mischief. “You sure you’re ready for my A-game?”

Oh no.

That look is going to get us both killed.

Before I can brace myself, my father spots me. His face splits into a beaming grin, and he waves the embarrassing sign even higher.

“Kiddo!” my father booms, voice loud enough to make heads turn.

I muster the brightest smile I can manage. “Hi, Dad.”

He closes the distance in three swift strides, wrapping me in a hug tight enough to rearrange my spine. “Missed you, kid,” he says gruffly into my hair. “Too long since you've been home.”

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