I try not to notice how close we’re sitting right now. Last night I’d felt his skin on mine. We’d been kissing. That seems almost crazier than the hazy memory I have of blowing him. Dicks are nice and all, but I’d stared into those sparkling eyes and kissed him like my life depended on it.
My inner kitty-cat had forgotten to be afraid and had rubbed herself all over Neil Drake. And she’d liked it.
Shoot me.
“Look, it’s a big ask.” Neil is still talking.
“Hmm?”
“You’re right that this will slow us down a couple of weeks. Because I want my family to believe that we’re married for real.”
“But why?”
“Two reasons. First, I need to show them that I can’t be bullied, and also…” He points at the one sheet of paper that he did not tear in half. “That foundation seat. You’re going to come to the next quarterly meeting and cast a vote.”
I let out a peal of laughter. “A vote for what?”
“It almost doesn’t matter. But when my wife joins this board, my side of the family has a new majority. We could vote down every single one of my uncle’s priorities, and advance all of our own.”
“Will it solve your mother’s money thing?” I ask. Because making a rich asshole cry actually sounds fun to me.
“Not directly. But that’s my ultimate goal—to do a little horse trading. If he believes we’re going to stay married, and he can never win another foundation vote again, he might sign over the trust to my mother and listen to one or two of my ideas.”
“That’s… complicated,” I complain. “It was only a few hours ago when you said to trust you and that the divorce wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Hey.” He picks up one of my hands and gives it a squeeze. “If you don’t want to do this, you can say no. I’ll find a new divorce lawyer tomorrow and get him to file ASAP. Or you can do me this favor. For a few weeks, you and I will pretend to be married for real.”
“But…” I’m having so much trouble picturing this. “What would that look like?”
He gives my hand another squeeze and then runs a fingertip across my fingers. “You’d have to wear a wedding ring. Not that Vegas monstrosity—a nice one.”
“The trappings of heteronormative love,” I say with a sigh. “Fine. But that can’t be all.”
“No, it’s not. We’d have to show our faces together as husband and wife. We have to walk the walk, essentially. So no hookups or girlfriends…” He gives me a sideways glance. “Or boyfriends. Now that I know you like those sometimes.”
I brush aside the question of my sex life with a wave of my hand. “So… essentially you’re borrowing my freedom as leverage in order to gain your own freedom from your scary uncle?”
“Yeah, basically. Only for a short time, and only with your permission. But you helped shackle us together in the first place, loser, so we’ve got to untie that knot somehow. I just want to do it sneaky-like.”
“Sneaky-like,” I grumble. “You want me to lie.”
“I’ll do all the lying. Meanwhile, there will be perks.”
“Perks?” I yelp. “I hope you don’t mean sex.” That’s my guilty conscience talking, of course. I was just thinking about sex with him not two minutes ago.
“And people say I have the dirty mind? I was only thinking about shortening your commute to the rink. You can stay here. We’ll be roommates for a little while, and you can walk to work in three minutes flat.”
“Well, damn. I must be a real New Yorker now, because that short commute is a huge draw.”
He smiles. “Yeah, you’re legit for sure.”
I mull this over for a moment. Staying in Neil’s apartment for a little while would solve some problems for me. I could let my lease go and shake my brother and my awful cousin out of my space.
And I could walk to the rink for every practice and every home game. “How long would I be here, do you think?”
“A month or two? Whatever seems comfortable to you once the divorce gets underway. But Charli…” His smile dies. “I’d need to ask you to go to a few events with me. And my family will do their best to be cold to both of us. We have to show our faces, or the ruse won’t work.”
“To your uncle and your mother?”
“That’s right. And my cousin and sister, too.” He makes a face. “The things that come out of their mouths can be pretty brutal.”
“I can take it,” I say immediately. I’ve been putting up with other people’s shade my whole life. “The food will be good, right? If I have to see your family, will there at least be more steak?”
“How about this.” He leans closer to me, which makes it a little hard to concentrate. “Every time you come face to face with any of my blood relatives, I will make you another filet mignon.”
“And the cheesy cauliflower?” Negotiation comes naturally to me.
“Sure. I’ll throw in the cauliflower gratin.”
“Cool, cool.” I can’t believe I’m seriously considering this. “People are going to find out, though. I mean—besides your family.”
He looks thoughtful. “I guess that’s inevitable. My family would try to keep it a secret,” he says. “They don’t even want people knowing that I’m a professional hockey player. My cousin actually said once that it was ‘so blue collar.’”
“Seven figures a year is not blue-collar work.”
He shrugs, like it’s not worth arguing the point. “Georgia made it sound like it’s going to become public whether we want it to or not.”
“But hang on—how far are we taking this charade? Will I have to play the little wife in front of our friends? I don’t think I’m that good of an actor.”
He smiles and then pokes me in the knee. “I think I’m offended.”
“Really? Have you ever seen me cozy up to a man? Or a woman? Have I ever said: ‘Gosh, I wish I could shackle myself to a man?’”
“No.” He laughs.
“Besides, you’re the one who recently got off the relationship roller coaster with your snobby girlfriend. Which part of our sudden, secret romance would you find believable if you were our friends?”
“The secret part,” he says with another smile. “So secret that neither of us knew about it.” We both snicker. “I guess we’ll have to be out to our friends, then.”
“We’d have to be. Our friends aren’t idiots.”
“Some of mine are,” he says. “But not all of them.”
“Agreed.” Although, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation at all. Could we really fool anyone? Is there a less obvious couple anywhere in New York City than we are?
“There’s one more thing I’d need from you,” he says.
“Oh boy. What now?”
NINE
DRINKING FROM THE CUP OF BAD DECISIONS
Neil
I can’t believe Charli is actually considering my harebrained plan. And I know she won’t like this last detail, but I’m going to insist. “You have to let me find you another apartment when this is all over.”