Page 31 of Fake Fiancée for Dad's Best Friend
Last night I was on the verge of asking her out. I even had a pretty good reason. Namely, to keep up the appearance of our engagement by video-calling my parents since my mom asks about Vivian a lot. But I resist the urge. I shouldn’t continue the mistake. I’m not going to ruin the girl’s life. She has a bright future ahead of her. She graduated with a 4.0 GPA, and her supervisor has nothing but high regard for her. This girl is a gem. She deserves better than a man old enough to be her dad. Besides, John won’t forgive me when he finds out what I did to his daughter. I’m already guilty of deceiving him.
My office phone rings, and it’s my secretary Connie, reminding me it’s lunchtime.
“I’m going to Panera. What would you like to have?”
“The chicken salad sandwich I had last time was good. I’ll have it again.”
“Sure.”
“Wait!” I say to her before she hangs up. “Can I go with you?”
She pauses. “Of course, boss. Let me just place the order online and then we’ll go together.”
“Good.”
Connie has been working for me since the beginning of Trend. She’s a few years older than me, and I treat her like a big sister. Frankly, she’s closer to me than Sam is because I work with her every day.
We’re waiting for the elevator when Connie asks, “You finally got rid of your agoraphobia?”
That’s an old joke she uses from time to time because I seldom leave the building during work. I chuckle. “It’s about time.”
The elevator door opens, but the car it’s full, so we wait for the next one.
When we’re out on Madison, Connie asks, “So what happened to you, Alex?”
“What do you mean?” I blink. “Like I said, it’s about time I get out of my office.”
“It isn’t what I mean. You look and act differently ever since you came back from California. What did you do over there?”
Damn. This woman is observant. I chuckle. “Why do you think I’m different?”
She stares at me for a moment and shrugs. “You space out a lot. And you seem inattentive and disorganized. I’ve never seen you this way.”
“Oh!” She’s right about me, but I pretend to be unaware of the fact. “I guess I’m getting old, Connie.”
“Give me a break!” she cries. “I’m older than you. Are you saying I’m old?”
“Not at all, Connie. It isn’t what I mean…”
She chuckles. “Well, boss, I think you probably overworked. You need a break. You should probably take the afternoon off.”
I roll my eyes. “Sounds like you’re the boss!”
“I’m just saying.” She shrugs.
As much as I hate to take that advice, I must say it does sound tempting. The air out on the street isn’t much fresher than the one in my office, but I quite like the feeling of being temporarily off duty. But what am I going to do if I take the afternoon off? Wandering alone on the street like a homeless person?
It takes us but a few minutes’ walk to get to Panera. The place is crowded, but thankfully we don’t need to get in the order line.
While Connie gets to the front to pick up our order, my attention falls on a couple sitting in the far end of the dining area. The woman who sits with her back facing me wears a brilliant green shirt that reminds me of what Vivian wore the day we flew to Santa Barbara. The blonde curls tumbling down her shoulders look familiar, too. Damn. It is Vivian.
My pulse quickens, and my eyes naturally focus on the lad sitting across the table to her. He’s very handsome. His exquisite face shows a mixture of ethnic origins: Caucasian oblong frame and narrow straight nose, and Asian slanted eyes and broad cheekbones. He’s tall and slender and could make a perfect model. I continue to observe the young man out of professional habit, but when he reaches to touch Vivian’s chin with his thumb as if to wipe off a trace of something, I become uncontrollably jealous.
Who the hell is he? Vivian told me she had no boyfriend—a month ago.
Could they have just met? Does the fellow work for me as well? If he did, he would certainly be fired before long if he kept touching my fiancée like that. Is she still a virgin? Damn. Why am I wondering about this? It’s none of my business. She has no relation with me. She’s just my fake fiancée.
When our sandwiches are ready, I tell Connie I would rather eat in my office instead. She rolls her eyes and leave with me.
