Page 53 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

“You got it,” she says and ends the call.

I set my phone down, shoulders suddenly feeling heavy. No matter how much the health insurance increase is, I’ll make it work. I always do.

Usually, though, that involves me taking less personal pay for a while. I have a feeling that won’t be enough this time.

I could lay people off. But I don’t want to. Not when Blush is doing so well. I should be expanding the company, not shrinking it.

Besides, unemployment taxes would come and bite me in the butt anyway if I did that.

Which means I really need those investors.

Badly.

Not for me. For my employees.

The investors’ request to meet my guy is just as ludicrous as me developing secret feelings for Laurent. But I’ll do whatever they need me to do to ensure that I’ll have the money to keep growing Blush without having to do it at the expense of my employees.

Sure, I designed the app. But they’ve masterminded Blush’s marketing and customer service and social media and all sorts of other odd jobs that I’m ill-equipped for. Without them, Blush wouldn’t be half as good as it is.

They helped me put Blush on the map. I’ll do whatever it takes to take care of them in return, even if it means playing along with some — what was it Laurent called them? — man bros’ stupid game.

I’m not excited about playing along to their every whim. But at least I’ll have Laurent with me, and that makes the whole situation much, much more appealing.

Laurent

My practice date with Shira isn’t going very well.

I told her I’d pick her up around six. But when I got to her little cottage not far from my parents’ vineyard, she insisted she drive.

So now all six foot four inches of me is crammed into her tiny Chevy Spark, neck bent but head still hitting the ceiling, knees practically around my ears.

Even worse, when I try to make small talk, Shira shuts me down.

“Sorry,” she says, wincing. “I get anxious in cars and talking doesn’t help. Is it okay if we listen to a podcast or some music instead?”

Curious, I cock my head at her. “Sure. But if that’s the case, why didn’t you let me drive?”

Shira grimaces. “Not driving is worse than driving.” She shoots a glance at me. “Sorry,” she says again, and turns on some — I blink when the music starts thumping — Vanilla Ice.

So. Not the greatest start to the evening. I was hoping to come across as suave and classy and smart, everything that I don’t get to be at work.

Guess I don’t get to be that tonight either. For now.

But as Shira follows her car’s GPS to the restaurant I picked out for us, I remind myself not to give up hope. The night’s young. Anything could happen.

Unless, I realizing with a sinking feeling in my gut, Shira really is all business about this fake boyfriend arrangement. Maybe she just accepted my invitations to be nice.

What’s that thing Dad always said that used to annoy me when I was a kid? Oh yeah.You never know how something will turn out until you try.

Maybe I’m an idiot for not snuffing the life out of the feelings I have for Shira. Maybe I’ll never see her again after this week.

But I know that I’ll regret it if I don’t try to get to know her more. It’s been so long since a woman looked at me with respect instead of mere lust. I’d forgotten how good it feels.

I want more of it.

And I want it from her.

Examining Shira in my peripheral vision, I drink in her curls trailing from a chic knot on top of her head, how she catches her lower lip in her teeth as she concentrates, the way her eyes glitter in the lights of the night.

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