Page 35 of The Boss I Can't Stand
No wonder Finn had instructed me to leave my furniture at the Beverlywood apartment. My Ikea dresser never would have looked right in here, much less the bookcase I got when someone left it on the street.
When the movers finished, I said goodbye to Ro, she wished me good luck, and I sat myself down at the fancy island counter in the kitchen, watching Finn putter around the stove. I suppose Icouldhave just hung out in my room while I waited for dinner to be ready, but it felt lonely in there. Company seemed like the better option, even if it was his company.
“What?” he asked when he turned around.
“Nothing,” I said, my eyes darting to where he’d rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, showing off two very muscular forearms. “I’m just surprised you don’t have a guy to make you dinner.”
“I do,” he said. “But I didn’t know how long the movers would be underfoot, so I gave the man the night off.”
At the other end of the counter, Lord Meowington was wearing an actual sweater. I stared at the strange creature that looked as if it’d just strolled down the gangway from a yacht. Finn placed a dish—nicer than anything I owned—in front of it, and it chowed down on whatever raw organ thing he’d prepared. This was a side to Finn Lockhart that I had no idea what to do with. My asshole boss, it seemed, had a fondness for pudgy, hairless creatures.
“Do you even know how to cook?” I blurted out, needing a distraction from this surreal moment. “Should I be concerned?”
“Did you just ask me that? You who shows up with expired dairy products?”
“It expirestoday!”
He set a simple pasta dish down in front of me, and I was a little impressed that it actually smelled delicious—buttery garlic noodles with a fresh tomato and basil sauce. “Don’t complain,” he growled as I opened my mouth.
“I wasn’t going to,” I muttered, picking up the fork he set down in front of me and trying a bite. It was tasty, and I was starving, so you wouldn’t catch me complaining. He watched me for a beat, then turned and dished up his own plate.“So,” he said, sitting down across from me and completely ignoring the grumbling growly noises coming from the cat as it ate. “Jillian suggested we should probably figure out the terms of this engagement.”
“What kind of terms?” I asked. I’d agreed to play along, and I’d moved in. What more was needed?
“Boundaries,” he said. “So we’re not stumbling through things in public. If we’re engaged, we shouldn’t be photographed looking awkward.”
“Fine with me,” I said, studying his face as he looked down at his plate. There was a bit of scruff on his jaw, like he’d been too busy to shave this morning. I liked it. A little scruff, a little mess, looked good on him.
“PDA has to be a yes,” Finn said, glancing up at me. I looked away, nodding. “Especially during the three interviews Jillian already has set up for us.”
“I’m going to need you to be a little more specific,” I said. PDA could entail a lot of things, and as I thought of those things, withhim, heatgathered in my chest and I placed my hands flat down on the cool marble to keep from fanning myself.
“Hugging?” he said.
“Yes,” I said, studying his expression. “That’s fine.”
“Holding hands?”
I nodded.
“Kissing?”
I coughed, choking on my pasta and grabbed my linen napkin because, of course it was linen.
“You have to be able to pull off a little peck in public,” he said.
“You remember me saying I’m not a good liar, right?” Hugging and holding hands were one thing, but a kiss? “My body language always gives me away. I don’t think I could make a fake kiss look anything other than stiff and awkward. It’s probably better if we don’t.”
“How else do you expect us to sell this story?” he asked. “If you’re a little stiff, we’ll just sell it as you not being used to being in front of so many cameras.”
“How romantic,” I muttered, poking at my food again. “And what about the ring?” I asked, feeling the weight of the small box in my pocket. I still hadn’t opened it.
Finn shrugged. “Something I had lying around. I figured it would help sell the ruse. You have to wearsomethingin public, or people are going to start asking questions.”
“Was it originally intended to be an engagement ring?” I wondered.
Finn tugged at the collar of his shirt, adjusting it. “No idea. It was just an heirloom sitting around collecting dust.”
I felt a little better knowing he hadn’t specifically bought it for this purpose.
