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“It’s not like that. All it entails is you accompanying me to dinner, making nice with my parents, and calling it quits right after.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“What?”
“Look, I know you’re not used to being turned down, but that’s a big hell no from me.”
Un-fucking-believable. Who wouldn’t want to go out with me? I’m a freaking catch.
“Please.” Look at me, resorting to begging, but I’m a little desperate here.
“They wouldn’t believe the ruse if you showed up with me by your side.”
Okay, she lost me. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t they?”
“I’m hardly your type.”
“What do you mean?”
She brushes her arm to the space occupied by Juliette mere minutes ago. “She’syour type.”
I take a moment, really taking her in—Amanda, with her vibe that doesn’t just scream confidence but kind of bellows it across the room. She’s no Juliette; there’s no skyscraper height, no willowy limbs that go for days. Nah, Amanda’s got this down-to-earth thing going on, more curves than angles, her face not dolled up for a runway show, but real and approachable. No frills. It’s like she skipped the whole beauty queen parade and went straight for the “be you” trophy.
Despite her simplicity, she possesses a magnetic quality that keeps drawing my gaze back to her. She may not fit society’s standard of beauty, but there’s an unassuming confidence that sets her apart. She’s comfortable in her skin and doesn’t seem to care if anyone takes notice or not. That’s what really captivates me. And I must admit, she may not be as glamorous as the other girls, but she has somehow managed the impossible—make me chase after someone, even if it’s all just a façade.
“Maybe I need a different type.”
Her breath hitches. And I think she’s about to agree, but I see the moment her confidence slips. “Let’s be real. You can bring anyone. Take Juliette, for instance. That girl would jump at the chance.”
“That girl only wants one thing.”A wedding proposal.“What do you say? Anyone I ask will turn the date into more than what it is. I don’t need distractions. I need a fake girlfriend.”
She pauses, then shakes her head. “No.”
“I’m offering to pay.”
“That’s ridiculous. So many would do it for free.”
I smile at that. I can’t help it—Amanda’s right. There are many willing participants. But I was serious about them turning a simple dinner into more. I don’t need the fucking headaches.
I go to respond, but her phone dings with an incoming text. Her eyebrows crease as she reads the message. But it’s when she closes her eyes momentarily as a wave of something trickles through her, I want to reach out and make her feel better.
“Everything okay?”
“That was the Pub. They don’t have any shifts for me.” She chews on her bottom lip.
“My offer still stands.” All teasing is gone as I state my proposal.
She hesitates, clearly torn between her skepticism and her need for money. After a moment of consideration, she finally speaks. “How much are we talking here?”
“Two hundred bucks.” Hopefully, that’s enough to cover whatever she needs.
“Three hundred,” she counters, narrowing her eyes at me.
Fuck, I like her sass.
She knows she has me by the balls here. Or do I have hers? I’m not sure who has the upper hand. As I said, a win-win.
“Deal,” I agree quickly, extending my hand for her to shake. “But you need to be convincing. We’re in this together.”
