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“So that’s why people live in these buildings,” I say.
He stands next to me, and we check out the view together. “Part of the reason. It’s also the convenience. I pay a homeowner’s fee, so everything is taken care of. And anything that is not, is taken care of by my housekeeper.”
It finally dawns on me that something’s cooking, which said housekeeper probably deserves all the credit for. “What smells so good?”
He smiles and takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen.
Why he has to take my hand, I don’t know. He’s really into this charade. But I can’t say I mind, not completely. It feels nice.
“I want you to meet Betty. She’s an incredible cook. And she generally takes care of most all details of my life. Don’t know what I’d do without her.” He slings an arm around her shoulder.
Betty, a small woman in an apron, turns to me. Her eyes are warm and her smile is sweet. Everyone should have a Betty. “Congratulations, Miss Petal, on your marriage. I’m so happy for you and Mr. Rake.”
Here we go, kicking off the charade.
“Thank you, Betty,” I say, leaning into my fake husband. “We’re lucky to have found each other. Aren’t we, honey?” I look up at him and batting my eyes.
“Sure are, baby,” he says, planting a kiss on top of my head.
We’re even putting on the show for the housekeeper.
“Mr. Rake, you can take the roast out of the oven in about five minutes, and everything else is in the other oven, staying warm.” She unties her apron and hangs it in the pantry. “Will you be needing anything else?”
He peeks in the oven and turns back with a huge grin. “Nothing else, thank you, Betty. We’ll see you tomorrow.” He sees her to the door.
He actually walks the housekeeper to the door.
Sweet.
Now it’s my turn to peek in the oven. I love a good roast. “Dinner looks looks amazing. And I brought a bottle of my mom’s wine,” I say, pulling out one kitchen drawer after another.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” he teases.
I locate a corkscrew and starting working on the bottle. “You bet. After all, this is my home too, right?”
“That it is.”
We sit down to eat and I have to say, Betty’s food is even better than it smells.
“This is so good. All of it,” I say, piling more onto my plate.
“Damn. I don’t know many women who can eat like that,” Rake says.
Probably worried his new ‘wife’ is going to gain weight or something. That’s a shallow athlete for you.
I hold my chin up. “I have a good metabolism. Plus, I’m active. And last, I don’t worry about what I eat. My maintaining a certain weight was not in our contract, buddy.”
“I wasn’t implying it was.”
I push my plate aside for some serious talk. “Let’s set some ground rules, okay? So we both know what to expect from each other. And this arrangement.”
He nods. “Sure. You first.”
“To start with, I’m staying in the guest room. I know I told you that already, but it needs repeating. I know you were voted sexiest-something-stupid, but that shit doesn’t work on me.”
He rubs his chin. “You know, I get why you want that, but Betty will be suspicious if we’re not sharing a bed. I hadn’t thought this through.”
Nor would I expect him to. Guys never think things through.
