Page 33 of My Real Love Affair

“What’s the code word again?”

“Pineapple.”

“Why pineapple?”

“Because nobody ever casually uses the word pineapple in conversation. It’ll be obvious.” She handed me the outfit. “Now go. And Melody?”

“Yeah?”

“You are going to have fun. You deserve it.”

I got dressed, put on my shoes, and spritzed some of the vanilla body spray I loved from head to toe. I had a huge assortment. Another gift from a brand wanting me to promote their products.

I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I looked good. Really good.

Cleo was sitting at the center island, laptop open and typing away when I walked in.

She whistled low. “Damn, girl. You look hot.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

CHAPTER 11

AUSTIN

The restaurant I’d chosen was one of my favorites, upscale but not stuffy, with food good enough to make you forget you were paying eighty bucks for a steak. Private enough for conversation but public enough that we’d be seen.

Because that was part of the plan, wasn’t it? Be seen. Make it public. Make it real.

I arrived and waited in the foyer for Melody. I thought it was cute she didn’t want me picking her up. It was smart, but considering I dropped her off last night, it was just a little pointless.

The door opened and she walked in. She looked fucking incredible, wearing another dress that fit her perfectly. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and her lips were painted a deep rose color that made me think very unprofessional thoughts.

“Damn,” I breathed, then cleared my throat. “You look amazing.”

A blush crept across her cheeks. “Thank you. I like your look, too.”

I glanced down at my dark jeans and button-down. “These old things?”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

“Our table is ready.” With a gentle hand on her back, I guided her to our table. I caught the scent of vanilla, and I was suddenly very hungry.

For her.

Get it together, Bancroft.

I held Melody’s chair for her, inhaling that sweet scent once again, then settled into my own seat across from her. The lighting was warm and intimate, casting a golden glow across her face.

“This is a nice place,” she murmured.

“Ever been here?”

“No.”

“Everything is good here,” I said. “But the ribeye is exceptional. And the lobster risotto.”