Page 16 of Never Fake Date the Financier
“I also kinda like what I’ll get in return for this date. I’d be crazy not to take it, whether he looks like a Greek god or a troll.”
“Date? You forgot the fake part of it.”
“That was implied,” I groan. “I wrote out the rules. He has to abide by them or I walk.Witheverything I asked for, mind you.”
She hums. “Sure, but we’ll see how those rules hold up when this guy walks out of the shower with just a towel on.”
Olivia spins the laptop around and there it is—the single shirtless picture of Adrian Thorne as he’s working out. Sweaty. Hot. Muscles galore. The man is Adonis incarnate, and I’m supposed to pretend to be his girlfriend? I swallow as the realization sets in that this may not be as straightforward as I thought.
“I’ll make sure we have separate rooms.”
Olivia laughs, spinning the laptop back around to continue her cyberstalking.
“If I were you, I’d burn the list you sent him. No kissing? What were you thinking?”
My skin flushes for the millionth time as I mentally scan the list in my head. I thought it was a good idea to lay out a few ground rules to make sure we were on the same page with this agreement. Keep things purely platonic. Businesslike. But when I read the email he sent in response, I knew that was going to be difficult.
We’ll negotiate your list on the plane and draw up a refined contract.
Gulp.
“I don’t know,” I tell Olivia. “It’s not like I had a lot of time to think this over. I’ve never been in a fake relationship before.”
“Fake or not—you should be taking advantage of everything this man has to offer.” She taps the computer screen. “Do I have to show you this picture again?”
I sigh. “No need.” It’s imprinted in my mind’s eye. Every muscle. Every curve. Every?—
There’s a forceful knock on the door, and my heart leaps into my throat, a tingling sensation spreading from my core.
Both of us are quiet for what feels like minutes, frozen in place. Waiting… Waiting…Knock, knock, knock.”
“He’s here,” Olivia whispers.
“I know,” I whisper back.
She closes the laptop slowly, both of us cringing when it clicks. She mouthsSorry!and then: “What do we do?”
“We should get up.” I grab my laptop. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Good idea. We should—wait.Why are we whispering?”
I shake my head as I mouth, “I don’t know. You started it.”
“Go,” Olivia says, shooing me away as he knocks yet again.
It’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience as I slip my laptop into my suitcase and then walk to the front door. I can’t believe what’s waiting for me on the other side. Looming, broody, and no doubt dressed in another suit. I pause in front of the mirror above the landing table, checking myself one last time before I brave the storm I’m no doubt about to be swept into.
“You lookah-mazing,” Olivia says.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
“And stop whispering, he can’t hear us.”
There’s a throat clearing behind the door, followed by that crisp voice that sends tingles rippling across my skin. “I can. I can also smell the cookies burning in your oven.”
“Oh,nonono,” Olivia squeals, rushing for the kitchen.
I head for the door, trying my best to mask my embarrassment, but when I open the door and see Adrian Thorne, I’m sure I’ve finished my transformation into a vine-ripened tomato.
