Page 15 of Mistletoe, Mayhem & Mr. Grump
"You're new. No one knows your dating history. You have a job. You show up when you say you will. The bar is very low," she admits.
"Flattering."
"I'm not trying to flatter you. I'm trying to save my shop." Her voice cracks slightly on the last word, and something in my chest shifts uncomfortably.
"What's in it for me?" I ask, though I'm already mentally saying yes. This is perfect. A built-in excuse to integrate into the community. Access to inside information. A reason to be seen with the local business owner, whose shop is a prime acquisition target.
Her being beautiful has nothing to do with my decision. Obviously.
"Free coffee from The Daily Grind. I have a connection," she offers.
"You mean Iris works there," I say.
"That's my connection, yes. Also, meals. I can cook. Sort of. I can definitely heat things up. Usually without burning them. Occasionally without burning them," she continues, clearly underselling herself.
"Tempting."
"And a place to stay. There's a room above the shop. It's not much, but it's better than the inn," she adds.
This is even better than I had hoped. Living above the shop would give me a perfect surveillance opportunity. I could assess the building's structural integrity, estimate renovation costs, and document foot traffic patterns.
Living near her is just convenient for the arrangement. That's all.
"Three weeks?" I confirm.
"Three weeks. We pretend to date. Go to town events together. Hold hands in public. Look stable and boring and committee-approved," she summarizes.
"I don't do boring well," I warn her.
"You literally have only one expression," she counters.
"It's a very dynamic expression."
"It's the face of someone who just remembered they left the oven on. In 1987."
"That's specific." I note. “You’re a very specific gal.”
"I'm very observant." She fidgets with the folder. "So? Will you do it?"
I should negotiate. Ask for more details. Create boundaries and establish rules. Instead, I hear myself say, "Yes."
She blinks rapidly. "Really? Just like that?"
"Just like that."
"You don't want to think about it? Ask questions? Check references?" she asks, clearly stunned.
"Do you have references for fake dating?"
"I have a Yelp review from the encyclopedia salesman," she offers weakly.
"Was it positive?"
"He said I was 'enthusiastic about learning.' I think it might have been sarcasm," she admits.
"Probably."
She opens the folder she's been death-gripping. "I made a contract."
