Page 61 of Boss's Baby: A Fake Fiance Romance

“And here we are tricking him.”

I raised a finger. “Hey, don’t forget it’s not only about me getting the company. I want my hardass old man still alive and kicking in ten years. This thing with us might be fake, but I’m sure I’ll have plenty of grandkids for him to play with by then.”

“I get it. Still, the sooner we can put this behind us, the better.”

Her saying that made me think of her other terms for the arrangement, how she never wanted to see me again once we were all done. It kind of sucked. Her reasoning made sense, but I had to admit we made a pretty good team. And more than that, Cassidy was good company.

“Yeah, agreed.” My heart wasn’t in the words, however.

Didn’t matter, though, because right as I finished what I was saying, we arrived in front of the boutique. Millie’s Stylings was one of the oldest shops in the city, dating back to Prohibition era. My mom had all gone there for duds fancy enough for the best parties in town, and there I was with my woman about to do the same. Far different circumstances, though.

I held the door open and placed my hand on the small of Cassidy’s back, leading her into the place like a true gentleman—or something like that. The gal behind the counter didn’t waste any time in greeting us, and over the course of the next hour I had the exquisite pleasure of watching Cassidy try on dress after dress.

She looked damn good in all of them, obviously. Cassidy—she was gorgeous. OK, that’s putting it lightly. She was fucking gorgeous, a damn knockout. And when she stepped out of the dressing room in a flowing, dark blue gown that made her look like something out of a dream, I had to take a quick mental inventory to make sure I wasn’t actually feeling things for her that I wasn’t supposed to.

“What do you think?” she asked, giving me a twirl.

“I think we have a winner.”

She beamed, and the effect she’d been having on me was almost overwhelming. What the fuck was going on with me? I didn’t want to linger too much on it—way more important shit to worry about. We had the dress packed up and ready to wear that evening, and I made sure to pay for it. As I did, Cassidy did her best impression of a woman who was totally fine with her man taking care of all the bills.

We had a little more time before we needed to be back and decided to grab a cup of coffee to kill some time. Right when we sat down, however, a pensive air settled over Cassidy. She appeared uneasy.

“What’s up? Still not cool with the man doing the buying?”

“No. Not that.” Nothing else. Whatever was on her mind, she didn’t want to talk about it. That wasn’t going to work for me, though.

I watched as she sipped her coffee, both hands wrapped around her mug. “Listen, I know it’s kind of a pain in the ass to have to keep checking in. Neither of us are really the type to be mega expressive with our feelings. But we’re kind of a team here and need to be on the same page all the time.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But it’s not a big deal at all. Kinda stupid, really.”

“‘Kinda stupid’ is what I do best.”

She allowed herself a small smile. “I was thinking about how mad I was the first time we hooked up.”

“Mad? Can’t say that’s a reaction I’m used to in that particular situation.”

She reached over and swatted my arm again, the same way she’d done in the car. I’d always thought of myself as more of a lover than a fighter, but I didn’t mind her style of roughing me up.

“You would say something like that. Like I said, it’s kind of silly.”

“Let’s hear it.”

One more sip of her coffee, like she was buying some time. “When we first hooked up, I got carried away in the moment.”

“Moments. More than a few of them.” I followed this up with a grin.

“Fine, fine. Pretty good moments too. But anyway, it happened, and afterward all I could think about was how I’d let myself get screwed by the same asshole who’d been such a prick to me in high school. Like I was rewarding you for bad behavior.”

“That’s surprising.”

“Is it? I mean, maybe you’re right. It was a long time ago—maybe I should’ve gotten over it. Stupid, I know.”

“No, not stupid. What’s surprising is that I let myself act like that toward you. I never thought of myself as a bully, really. Thought I was goofing around, teasing, having fun.”

“Didn’t feel like that to me. Especially when you and your friends made fun of me for being poor. Or, at least poor compared to you guys. And I hate it because, yeah, it was so long ago. But high-school stuff like that has a way of sticking with you, you know? Everything seems like such a much bigger deal when you’re younger.”

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