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“Stop,” I warn.
“You can’t let a few bad experiences ruin everything for you.”
“It was just one.”
“Well, there you go. She doesn’t look like the type. She seems nice.”
“No.”
“She does…”
“Just no. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to date. I don’t want to go out for coffee. And I can have a nice dinner alone. I’m happy where I’m at. I came out tonight because you pestered the shit out of me and begged until I nearly lost my sanity. I’m here to make you happy, not because I want to be, and definitely not to talk to anyone, nice or not.”
“Oooh, she’s coming over. And her friend too. I wonder if he’s single. He’s good looking.”
“Fuck.” When I frantically look over Sebastien’s shoulder, I can see that he’s right. Both about the said woman being quite beautiful and about the fact that she’s currently coming this way.
I debate the merits of escaping to the bathroom, wherever it is, but then I decide a club’s bathroom isn’t a place I’d want to go no matter what. I don’t smoke, so I can’t escape outside, either. Sebastien would also never forgive me if I just bailed on him, so that leaves me with no option other than to just stand here.
And wait.
And marvel privately, because wow. The nameless goddess closing in on us has long, cinnamon hued hair, green eyes, and a bone structure that would put most models to shame. She’s tall too. The emerald green dress she has on isn’t that tight, but it does a good job of silhouetting some killer curves and fuller breasts.
Yeah, so I noticed. My cock kind of noticed too. But whatever. Neither of us has seen a lot of action lately, and we prefer it that way. Well, at least I do. My dick might not be in agreement, but I’ve never given him any say in the matter. I have way too much at stake when it comes to businesses and assets to protect—oh and myself too because who actually likes to be used by someone else—to let anything but my brain be the decision-maker.
Right now, my said brain is finding it hard to think clearly. And that’s before the pair steps into my personal space, and I get a full inhale of a decidedly feminine scent. Jasmine, I think. I’ve never liked the smell of perfume before, but this scent is so delicate and gentle that I find my head spinning.
“Hey,” the guy—my brother is right, he is pretty good looking and athletic with the classic style handsome looks—says. He winks at Sebastien. Sebastien actually blushes. I’ve never known my brother to play hard to get, but he clears his throat almost immediately.
“I’m going to get a drink. I’ll be back.”
He leaves me stranded there, just like that. What. The. Fuck?
“H-hey…” I manage to croak, but only because the goddess is currently studying her black flats.
“I know this might sound kind of crazy,” the guy starts. “But trust me, we’re not drunk. I was wondering if you’d hear us out.”
“Uh, alright.” It’s not like I have another option. Sebastien is at the bar across from where I’m standing near the wall. He’s busy watching me while pretending not to be busy doing anything at all but waiting for a drink.
“So, my friend here, long story short, needs a fake date for a few days. She’s willing to pay two thousand dollars for four days, but two of them are travel days. Road trip to a small town. Go to her sister’s wedding as her date. Satisfy her parents that she’s not single. End of story. Do you want to make two thousand dollars?”
I’m sorry, what? I stand there staring for a few seconds because I’m sure I didn’t just hear that right. Who just approaches someone at a bar and asks them to do something like this? Travel with her on a road trip? Meet her parents? Fake date? This isn’t just crazy. It’s dangerous for her. I want to say something indignant or at least attempt to educate the pair on how terrible their idea is when the guy starts up again.
“I can tell you think we are actually drunk even though I said we’re not. Or that we might be crazy, but we’re not, either. Desperate, yes. We’re aware you might actually be a creep, but I don’t think so. You look like the club isn’t your scene, which probably means you’re kind of shy and either can’t meet people any other way, or you got dragged here by your friend over there. If that’s the case then you’re definitely a good guy, and you’re going to be his wingman for the night. Plus, you don’t give off any creepy vibes. My friend absolutely wants to stay single and doesn’t want anyone hitting on her, so it works out well that you’re not attracted to women. It will ensure there isn’t any room for anything messy. No strings. Two grand. What do you say?”
