“Business,” she echoed, staring at her wine. He couldn’t tell if she was starting to lean toward agreeing to this or contemplating how to change the subject. Or murder him.
“Trust me,” he said, “marriage isn’t my style.”
He liked to be positive, upbeat, and to see the best in a situation…in honor of his mother. She’d made him promise to do that. It had taken a lot of effort and discipline, but after years of practice, it had become part of him.
Tessa finally looked up at him. “You’re serious.”
“As a heart attack.” He set down his glass with a clink.
“You’re giving me a heart attack. A marriage and a business partnership are two entirely different things.”
He leaned back in the booth, the soft leather squeaking at the shift in his weight. “They can be the same thing. Think about it. In both, people compromise; they work together; they get things done. Simple.”
She shook her head adamantly. “This type of arrangement only works in romance novels. Historical romance novels,” she added. “It’s archaic. When I marry, it will be for love.”
He scoffed. “Good luck finding Prince Charming in this town.”
“Hey.” She looked offended. “I’m not ashamed to say I want a family one day just because the road there might be difficult.” She paused. “Don’t you? Want a family?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been too busy building my career to think about that.” And having fun. His friends didn’t call him Keep-it-Light Leo for nothing.
“Well, don’t think too long, or you’ll be running after your kids with a cane in one hand.”
“I’m still young,” he said. “I have plenty of time.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not that young. Don’t forget we’re from the same graduating class.”
He dramatically grabbed his chest. “You wound me.”
“All thirty-two years of you.” She snorted.
That familiar spark hit his chest, urging him to keep sparring with her. It had gotten him into trouble when they were younger, but he couldn’t remember right now why he needed to avoid that. “There’s more to me than just my age, Tessa. And you’re welcome to see it for yourself.”
She went still, leaving those words hanging between them. Had he really just—
“Geesh,” she said. “Do these terrible lines actually work on women?”
He leaned over as if he were about to tell her a secret. “Yes,” he said simply. “They do.”
She laughed. Laughed. Now he really was a little hurt.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I’m not leaving my future to fate. I’m going out to get it myself.”
His eyes narrowed at her. “You’re really leaving Blossom Glen? How soon?”
Her turn to shrug. “The Chicago French Pastry School has rolling admission. Classes start in July and January. I could get in at any moment. Well, okay, it’s already May, but you never know. They could call me any day. But…I can’t leave my mom in a lurch.”
“Yet another reason why my plan is perfect. We’d work hard together to get both businesses profitable. Then your life would be yours.” She had a conviction about her that he hadn’t given her credit for prior to this moment. Maybe she had more ambition than he thought. She’d been competitive in high school—he knew that better than anyone—but until now, he’d assumed she’d been driven more by stubbornness than a will to succeed.
“You’re asking me to do something ridiculous—not to mention legally binding—for an idea that might not even work.”
He sat up, his eyes drilling into hers, but she straightened her spine and stared right back. And, he was shocked to find, he was drawn to her defiant expression. Her full lips. She was challenging him.
Then something buzzed and crackled in the air between them.
Tension. Sexual tension.
He shook it away and chalked it up to the fact that he hadn’t dated anyone since Svana. He really needed to get back out there. So he wouldn’t be tempted by troublesome women like Tessa. “Oh, it would work.”
“You’re so cocky,” she said, stabbing at the air. “And too arrogant.”
He shot her a smug look. “Those words mean practically the same thing.”
“Still the same know-it-all from high school. Just like all those years ago when you thought you were going to win that scholarship.”
“I did win that scholarship,” he reminded her. “But you were right behind me. It was practically a tie.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Come on, Tessa. You can’t hold that petty grudge against me forever.” He was being obnoxious, he knew. But he had to protect himself from getting pushed around. And from the current that was snapping to life between them.
“I don’t hold grudges, Leo,” she said sweetly. “But I remember them. And it reminds me never to get involved with you again.”
This woman was…unbelievable. As his fake wife, she wouldn’t respect him; she’d harass and poke fun at him. She’d compete with him and argue with him at every turn. And she would annoy the hell out of him. Did he really need all that to save his family’s business?
Yeah. He did. And she needed it, too.
So he went back to sales mode. “My idea is innovative. And yes, a little risky. But it can have a huge payoff. For both of us.”
“How would I explain this to my family? They’d be…heartbroken. Or, more likely, they’d never believe it in the first place.”
A sly grin spread across his face. “Sure they would. It’s classic.”
“Classic hatred?” she quipped.
His turn to eye roll. “Classic Romeo and Juliet. We’re the Montagues and Capulets. Except with a happy ending.”
“You consider divorce a happy ending? Unless you mean we’d kill each other first. Because we can’t stay fake married forever. I’d like a real husband at some point, and I can’t look for him with a ring on my finger. I mean, I guess I could, but I won’t. Because I won’t cheat, even if this is all pretend.”
He hadn’t thought of that, and he was impressed by the depth of her loyalty, but he wasn’t about to admit it. “Anything’s happier than death.”
She gave him an incredulous look, then dropped it. “Actually, you’re right about that one. I hate when you’re right. But you’re not right about this…this…fake marriage. No one will buy it. They know us too well.”