“It wasn’t a bad date. He just had to leave early for…an emergency.” It was a blatant lie, but I didn’t want to admit it’d failed. Not to Christian.
“Yes, it looked positively scintillating.” His voice was drier than a gin martini. “I could tell by the way your eyes glazed over and strayed to your phone every five seconds. The true signs of a woman infatuated.”
Annoyance squeezed my lungs.
Between Klaus and Christian, the nunnery was looking better by the second.
“People say sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”
“But it’s the highest form of intelligence.” Christian’s mouth tugged up at my raised eyebrows. “Oscar Wilde. I know the full quote well.”
Why was I not surprised?
“Don’t let me keep you,” I said pointedly. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your Friday night than drink with the girl who takes care of your plants.”
“I’ll leave after you explain why you looked so unhappy after he left.” Christian settled onto his stool, the picture of relaxed elegance, but his eyes were sharp as he waited for my response. “Somehow, I doubt you were disappointed by his exit.”
I rubbed my thumb over the condensation on my water glass, debating how much to tell him.
“I needed his help with something.” Shame crept into my chest.
“With what?” He was a cobra in a king’s suit, with no patience in sight.
Just say it. “I need a fake boyfriend.”
There. I said it and didn’t die, though embarrassment warmed my neck.
But to his credit, Christian didn’t laugh or chastise me. “Explain.”
Alcohol and desperation had loosened my tongue, so I did. I explained everything—Maura, Delamonte, D.C. Style. I even told him I got fired.
A part of me worried he’d evict me since I no longer had a steady income, but I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out.
The pressure inside me had found a temporary release valve, and I was taking full advantage.
Although my friends knew I’d been fired, they didn’t know I was paying for Maura’s care. No one did except for the Greenfield staff…and now, Christian.
For some reason, telling him felt natural, almost easy. Perhaps because it was easier to share secrets with someone who didn’t know me well and, therefore, would hold less judgment.
When I finished, Christian stared at me with a long, assessing gaze.
The silence stretched so long I worried I’d broken him with the sheer absurdity of my idea.
I tucked a loose curl that had fallen out of my updo behind my ear. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but it could work. Potentially?” Doubt turned my statement into a question.
“It doesn’t sound ridiculous.” Christian set his now-empty glass down. The bartender reappeared in a flash and refilled it. After a weighted glance from Christian, he topped off my drink as well. “In fact, I have a mutually beneficial proposal.”
“I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”
I was desperate, but I wasn’t that desperate. It was one thing to get a fake boyfriend. It was another to sleep with someone for money, even if that someone was rich and gorgeous.
Annoyance passed through Christian’s eyes. “That’s not my proposal,” he said, his voice edged with irritation. “You need money, and I need a…companion who can accompany me to functions. They’re a necessary and, unfortunately, frequent part of my business.”
“So you want arm candy.” Something akin to disappointment settled in my stomach. “I’m sure you could find a date with a snap of your fingers. You don’t need me for that.”
Even now, all the women in the bar were staring at Christian with dazed, dreamy expressions.
“Not just a date, Stella. I want someone who I can have an actual conversation with. Who puts people at ease and who can work a room with me. Someone who doesn’t want more after the date is over.”
I tapped my fingers on the table. “And if I do that…”
Christian smiled. “Let’s make a deal, Ms. Alonso. You agree to be my companion when needed, and I’ll pay for the entirety of Maura’s care.”
My tapping stopped.
Pay for the entirety of Maura’s care?
My first instinct was an enthusiastic, resounding yes. Not having to worry about Greenfield’s bills would take a load off my shoulders.
But the exhilaration lasted only a minute before warning bells clanged between my ears.
If something sounded too good to be true, it probably was.
“Thank you, but I can’t.” The words were painful to say, but they were for the best. “Paying all of Maura’s fees…it’s too much.”
Was it stupid of me to turn down his payment offer when I so desperately needed it? Maybe. Especially when I knew paying for her care wouldn’t put a dent in his wallet? Probably.
If he were anyone else, I might’ve accepted, considering my circumstances. But between the initial lowered rent and our laughable deal for even lower rent after Jules moved out—taking care of his plants did not equate to the thousands of dollars he let slide every month—I already owed him too much.
And my gut told me that when it came to men like Christian Harper, the less one owed them, the better.
Because eventually, the payment would come due, and it would cost more than all the money in the world.
Christian took the refusal in stride. “I understand. Then let’s amend the deal. If you act as my companion, I’ll act as your boyfriend.”
My heart leapt. Now that was a more balanced arrangement.
Still, I shouldn’t.
It was wild and absurd and utterly ridiculous if I thought too hard about it, but…Christian Harper as my (fake) boyfriend. If that didn’t explode my follower count, nothing would.
“With a stipulation, of course,” he added.
Of course.
“What stipulation?”
“You are not, under any circumstances, to show my face on social media.”
My excitement fizzled faster than a firework in water. “That defeats the whole purpose of what I’m trying to do.”
Christian’s face could sell out stadiums and theaters. Not showing it off online would be a monumental waste.
“Based on what you told me, it’s the perceived relationship that matters, not who the other person is.” He tapped a finger on my phone. “Social media is a form of voyeurism, and couples are more interesting than individuals. It’s the unfortunate truth. But people also love a little mystery. You can show my hand, my back, any part of me except my face. It won’t diminish what you’re trying to do. It might even help.”
“But…” Your face is so pretty. “People will know it’s you if we attend events together, so what’s the point of not showing your face?”
“I have no problem with people knowing we’re together.” The smoothness of his words wrapped around me like a silken scarf. “However, I keep the details of my personal life private and my digital footprint as clean as possible.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Christian was a cybersecurity expert, so his aversion to social media and sharing data online made sense.
Still, I found it hard to believe anyone in this day and age could keep all photos of themselves off the internet.