Page 43 of Love, Academically
“You’re all frowny and you’ve barely said two words since we left work.” Her head tilted, and something flashed in her eyes. Concern? For him? His stomach tightened just a little bit. It was nice having Lila be concerned for him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You don’t have to be sorry. Just tell me what’s going on,” she said, leaning further over the table towards him.
Her hair fell over her shoulder, pink lips parting as she watched him, imploring him with those cloudless sky-blue eyes to say something. Anything. But he couldn’t, words wouldn’t form because he was just staring at her. He couldn’t free himself from her eyes, which pinned him.
What did she want to know? About this warm coil in the base of his stomach? About how he couldn’t concentrate because of the sugary glitter that seemed to exude from her? How he, Rhys Aubrey-Dallimore, who had been at the top of the corporate ladder, the hard-nosed businessman, couldn’t stop thinking about how soft her unicorn blanket was?
Whatwasthis?
“Rhys?”
Her voice was a wisp of wind, a dusting of snowflakes.
“Here you are.” The waitress plonked his pint in front of him.
Thank fuck.
He took a long, long gulp and nodded his thanks at the waitress. She’d be getting a good tip.
“Did you Google me? Google the Dallimores?”
His voice was too hoarse. The family. That’s what they were here for. The family, the story, the fake girlfriend. Yes.
“No? Was I supposed to?” She bit her bottom lip.
“You’re not a student, Lila. I don’t give you extra reading,” he snapped, shaking his head.
Her face hardened, and her eyebrow raised.
“I’m sorry.” He leaned his elbow on the table and covered his mouth. This was not going well. He was too tense and this was all too much.
“Look, I get telling me whatever you want to tell me isn’t easy for you, but that isn’t my fault. Don’t take it out on me,” Lila said, leaning back in her chair. “If you don’t want me to be your pretend girlfriend, then that’s fine. I don’t have to come.”
Rhys frowned. He’d only vaguely considered that possibility. He quickly shook his head. Explaining to Elin (and worse, his mother) that he was no longer bringing someone was a circle of hell best left unvisited. It was certainly much,muchworse than having to tell Lila about his dysfunctional family. Besides, Lila would distract them from his all too apparent failings, and perhaps it would be nice to have someone on his side. If indeed shewason his side, if he couldlether be on his side.
“My family run businesses. They’re rich.” He took a breath, looking around furtively.
“All right,” Lila said slowly, a crease marring her forehead. She spread her hands like a ‘so what’ gesture. She obviously didn’t get it.
“My father and uncles are Croesus-rich, and my sister and cousins aren’t far behind,” he said, holding her eyes, watching for a reaction. “Croesus was—”
“I know who Croesus was, thank you Rhys.” She raised her eyebrows at him. “You told me that they work for the family business, but you don’t?”
“That’s right.” Rhys nodded. “I did work for the family business. I started part-time on a building site at sixteen to ‘experience everything’, as my father said.”
Lila’s eyes skittered across his shoulders and she pressed her lips together.
“I worked holidays and weekends in all the different departments and divisions. Filing. Doing the post. Answering the phone. Customer service. You name it, I did it. We all did.”
She held up a finger in question. “When you say ‘you all’, you mean your sister and your cousins?”
“Yeah, all of us. It’s to find out what your strengths are. Then you’re expected to go and build a division or a business around what most interests you. Except,” his shoulders slumped forward, “nothing interested me.”
“Oh.” Lila tilted her head to the side, a sympathetic smile tilting her lips.
This was harder than he thought, laying himself out naked and vulnerable for her to see. He swallowed and continued.
