Page 4 of Practically Perfect Together
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Sounds serious."
"It is," Savannah says, clutching a planner to her chest like a shield.
I lead her to a quiet corner of the patio where Adirondack chairs surround a small wooden table. Once we're seated, she seems to be mentally rehearsing whatever she's about to say.
"I’m hoping to make a business arrangement with you," Savannah finally says, her voice clipped and professional.
"Business arrangement?" I lean back in my chair. "I didn't realize activities coordination fell under your purview."
"It doesn't." She takes a deep breath. "I need you to pretend to be my fiancé."
I stare at her for a beat, certain I've misheard. When her expression remains deadly serious, I can't help it. I laugh. Not a polite chuckle, but a full, genuine laugh that has Bear lifting his head in curiosity from his spot by the fire pit.
"I'm sorry," I manage, trying to rein in my amusement. "You want me to do what now?"
Savannah's cheeks flush slightly, but her gaze remains steady. "I need you to pretend to be engaged to me. For a business meeting. This weekend only."
"And why exactly would you need that?" I'm still grinning, unable to imagine what circumstances led the most organized woman I've ever met to such a desperate measure.
She takes a deep breath. "I accidentally told Harold Bennett—you know, the financial guy whose retreat could be huge for the lodge—that I'm engaged. Now he and his wife want to meet my fiancé at dinner this Friday."
"Accidentally?" I look at Savannah with newfound appreciation. "That doesn't seem like something you'd do by accident."
"It wasn't my finest moment," she admits stiffly. "He started talking about family values and forty-seven years of marriage, and suddenly I was engaged."
"Happens to the best of us," I say solemnly, though my eyes are still laughing. "One minute you're single, the next you're accidentally engaged."
Her eyes narrow slightly. "This is a serious matter, Mr. Callahan."
"Jameson," I correct automatically. "And you want me to play your devoted fiancé?" I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what you're in for."
"Don't call me sweetheart," she says immediately, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.
Bear chooses this moment to abandon his post, trotting over to investigate our visitor. Before I can call him back, he's resting his head on Savannah's knee, looking up with soulful eyes.
She goes completely still. "Your dog is touching me."
"He likes you," I observe, making no move to call him away. "Good judge of character, Bear is."
"I'm not a dog person," she says.
"That's the beauty of dogs. They don't care if you're a dog person. They just are who they are, and they love you anyway."
Something flickers across her face. It’s so brief I almost miss it. Longing maybe? Whatever it is, it's gone in an instant, replaced by determination.
"Jules mentioned you're working on a partnership with Altitude Adventures," she says, shifting into business mode. "I can help you secure that deal if you help me for one weekend."
I study her for a moment. Where I see adventure, she sees logistics. Where I seek connection, she seeks contracts.
"The Altitude Adventures deal is important," I admit, leaning back in my chair. "We've been trying to land that partnership for months."
"So we both need something," she says, her dark eyes studying me carefully. "I need a fiancé for the weekend, you need help with a contract. It's a simple business arrangement."
I can't help but smile at how she's framed it. So clean, so transactional. As if playing at being in love could ever be that simple.
"Alright," I say, extending my hand. "One weekend of devoted fiancé behavior in exchange for your help with the Altitude Adventures contract."
Relief floods her expression before she carefully conceals it. "Thank you," she says, taking my hand in a firm, businesslike shake.
