Page 11 of Practically Perfect Together

She looks momentarily taken aback, as if she doesn't remember the conversation. Or perhaps she is surprised that I do.

"It's getting late," she says, checking her watch. "I should head back to Juniper Falls. I have to start planning the Bennett retreat now that they've committed."

"That's a lot to tackle after a long day," I observe.

She shrugs slightly. "I work best at night. Fewer distractions."

An idea forms that has nothing to do with our fake engagement and everything to do with seeing more of her. "I could help," I offer. "After all, I know the lodge better than anyone. Plus, you promised to look over that Altitude Adventures proposal for me at some point."

"I don't know..." she hedges.

"Come on," I press gently. "Two heads, faster work. You've got the corporate expertise, and I know exactly which lodge activities would work best for Bennett's team. We could knock out the preliminary retreat schedule tonight."

She considers this, clearly weighing efficiency against spending more time with me. Efficiency wins, as I suspected it might.

"Alright," she concedes. "But I warn you, I'm very particular about how I organize event planning."

"I would expect nothing less," I say, unable to keep the smile from my voice. "My cabin or your office in town?"

She hesitates only briefly. "Your cabin would be more efficient. You have all the lodge activity information there, I assume?"

"Complete with my notes on what works best for different group dynamics," I confirm, far too pleased with this development. "I'll make coffee."

* * *

Three hours, two pots of coffee, and dozens of sticky notes later, my coffee table has disappeared under a sea of paperwork. Savannah sits cross-legged on the floor, suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, hair pulled back in a messy knot. It's the most relaxed I've seen her, and I can't stop sneaking glances.

"The morning hike should definitely go before the team-building exercise," she says, moving colored tabs around on her carefully constructed schedule. "They'll be more receptive to cooperation after physical activity."

"Good call," I agree, using it as an excuse to slide closer. "And we should schedule Declan's cooking demonstration for the second day. Bennett mentioned his wife loves Italian cuisine."

Savannah nods, making a note. There's a small smudge of ink on her cheek that she hasn't noticed, and I find myself unreasonably charmed by it. Corporate warrior meets human being.

"You're staring," she says without looking up.

Caught. "Just impressed by your system." Not entirely a lie. "You've transformed chaos into order in record time."

"Organization is efficiency," she replies, making another note in the margin of her planner. "Every minute saved in planning saves ten in execution."

"Is that a Savannah Carter original quote?" I tease.

She glances up, a hint of a smile playing at her lips. "It might be. Though I suspect someone famous probably said it first."

"Either way, it's impressive." I nod toward her meticulously arranged notes. "I'm more of a 'write it on whatever's available' kind of planner."

"Let me guess—napkins, receipts, and occasionally your own hand?"

I turn my palm up to reveal a faded ink reminder for "dog food" that I scribbled there yesterday. "Guilty as charged."

She shakes her head, but she's smiling now. A real smile, not the polished professional one she uses in meetings. It transforms her face, softening the angles, reaching her eyes.

I need to stop noticing these things.

"Want more coffee?" I ask, standing abruptly.

"I'm good, thanks." She stretches, rolling her shoulders. "We've made good progress."

In the kitchen, I take longer than necessary refilling my own mug, trying to regain some perspective. This is a business arrangement. She needed a fake fiancé. I needed help with a contract. Simple.

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