Page 24 of Bride on the Dotted Line

For the first time—well, for the first timetoday—I think about the fact that we’ll be required to hold hands in public. To sit close together. To touch each other. I imagine sliding into her side of the booth, putting my mouth to her neck, the feeling of her skin …

Listen. I’m not asking her to do this with me because she’s gorgeous. Our business arrangement is too important to fuck up, and I’m not a misogynist creep. I’ll touch her when there’s a camera to catch it, and only if she wants me to.

I hope she wants me to.

“Well,” I say, reigning myself in. “It’s a little late to be thinking about a paper trail, isn’t it? We have to meet with our lawyers this week if we’re going to do this right.”

“Our play is to make it seem like we’ve been secretly dating for a while and we’re planning to make it official, yes?”

“Yes.”

“So, when a random picture of us drinking morning coffee in a diner close to your penthouse pops up, we’ll already be established in the minds of the public.”

Ah.That’swhy I asked her to do this with me—because she’s a PR manager, and a damn good one, too.

Before I can say that out loud, our coffee arrives via a young, nervous-looking server. She leaves a bowl of something that looks like apple crumble next to the coffee cups, saying, “Our treat, Mr. Harwood.”

I offer the bowl to Sienna. She shakes her head.

“I don’t like apples.”

“That’s convenient,” I say, grinning, and put a spoonful in my mouth. The texture’s perfect. Not too sweet, but I’d have added more cinnamon. “They’re my favorite.”

“Speaking of which …” Sienna reaches under the table and produces her bag, which has her tablet sticking out of the top. She pulls it out and taps the screen. “We need to be prepared for conversations about each other. If we’re not ready, no one will buy that we’re in love.”

“You’re worried what people will say?”

“I work in public relations, Mr. Harwood. Everything I do is based on what people will say.”

“Of course.” There’s a chart on her screen. She turns the whole thing around and shows me the title:Question and Answer Game Plan.“What’s that mean?”

“I’ve compiled a list of things that a fiancé would know.” Sienna brushes her finger across the screen, scrolling down.“That way, if someone asks you a question about me, you’ll have the answer.”

I glance through the information in the chart. Our names are written across the top, and there are topics down the left-hand side:favorite books, preferred music, nostalgic movies, places traveled.Sienna has already filled her column out.

“When did you find the time to do this?”

“Let’s just say I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Her favorite color is purple. She loves nineties music. She doesn’t like apples.

“I’m supposed to memorize all this?”

Sienna drinks from her coffee with one hand and passes me her stylus with the other. “Fill out your side. I’ll send a copy to both of us. Next time we meet, we’ll test how prepared we are.”

“I didn’t think fake marriage would be so much work,” I say, but that’s not exactly true. I’d guessed we’d have to do something like this. Strangely, though, looking at this chart doesn’t feel like work at all.

Sienna’s childhood fears: sharks and being left alone. The way she takes her coffee: vanilla almond milk, no sugar. Her preferred bedtime: midnight.

Fascinating.

I start filling out the spaces under my name, then stop. There’s one thing we haven’t confirmed yet. The most important thing.

“Then … we’re doing this? You’re going to be my wife?”

Sienna’s back straightens. She blinks at the wordwife, but other than her posture, she doesn’t betray any emotion. I get the sense she’s controlling every muscle in her face.

I set down the tablet. “I’m not going to marry you for pretend if you don’t communicate with me for real, Ms. Hayes.”

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