Page 36 of The Boss I Can't Stand
“So, darling…”
“Darling!” I grimaced. “No way.”
“What?” Finn shot me a smug grin. “We need a pet name or two. And darling is classy, very old Hollywood.”
“Old Hollywood? Is that the vibe we’re going for?” I snorted. “In that case, I’m calling you baby doll.”
He rolled his eyes and grumbled, “Be serious.”
“I am, sugar puss.”
“Fine, if you don’t like darling, what do you want to be called?” he asked. “Babe? Baby?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Definitely not baby.”
He hummed, caught up in thought as he rubbed at the scruff along his jaw. “Maybe we should go for something more personalized—maybe costume related.”
That sounded horrible. Was he going to call me thimble? Shears? “Like what?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
He shrugged. “Stitchy? Threadmaster? Fabric queen?”
Geez, if those were my options, I might actuallypreferthimble. I massaged my forehead. “You’re terrible at this.”
“Cinderella?” he suggested.
“Why Cinderella?”
“You know…” He waved his hand. “’Cause she made that dress or whatever from scraps. With all her birds and mice. She was basically the OG costume designer. Then the fairy godmother came along pushing her fast-fashion agenda.”
I burst out laughing. “Why have I never thought about it like that before?”
“See, Cinderella is perfect,” he said, firing off a text. “Jillian can spin it to the tabloids. Say that I’ve found my princess, my perfect fit. Dream come true, all that nonsense.”
I tried not to smile at the thought of him calling me Cinderella. “Yes, nonsense is the key word there.”
By the time evening rolled around and we’d ironed out the boundaries of this fake relationship, I was exhausted. Finn walked me down the hall to my new bedroom.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said, pausing outside my door.
“Carlos will be back tomorrow,” he assured me, “so you won’t have to be subjected to any more of my cooking.”
“Carlos doesn’t have to cook for me.”
“The man likes to cook,” he said. “You’ll hurt his feelings if you don’t let him.Compromise.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Fine.” I leaned up against the door frame. For a brief second, it felt like being dropped off after a date. My heart fluttered at how close Finn was standing, his hands stuffed in his pockets, the ghost of a smile on his face. Was he leaning toward me? Oh, God, he wasn’t actually going to kiss me, was he? We weren’t testing out that PDA stuff yet, were we?
“Make sure you try the ring on at some point to make sure it fits,” he said, shattering the illusion. “Wouldn’t want it falling off during the interviews.” He turned on his heel, tossing a “Goodnight, Cinderella” over his shoulder as he disappeared down the hall.
“Goodnight,” I muttered, watching Lord Meowington slink down the hall after him. The cat paused, turning back to level me with a beady stare. Yep, message well received. I’d be giving that thing a wide berth.
I slipped into my room to hide my strange disappointment. I hadn’t wanted Finn to kiss me, had I? No…no, definitely not.
I sat on the edge of the massive four-poster bed and finally opened the jewelry box. The ring was stunning, of course, but also modern in a way that seemed odd, given that he’d said it was an heirloom. “Veritique, huh.” I’d never heard of the brand but the way Ro gushed, it was a big deal and definitely not something found on one of her thrifting trips.
I slipped it on my finger just to get used to the feel and fell back against the bed, my thoughts drifting to Finn as I stared at the cut of the diamond. Finn making me dinner. Finn down on one knee. Finn shrugging out of his shirt in the warehouse. Then the Finn in my mind was shrugging out of a lot more than just his shirt, and those thoughts dragged me into a very dirty dream.
14
