Page 40 of My Real Love Affair

I handed him the notebook. He read through my list slowly, his lips twitching with amusement.

“You don’t trust easily, do you?”

“Should I? Trust you, I mean?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I don’t have the best track record.” He pulled a pen from his jacket pocket. “But I’m going to try. For you.”

Then he signed his name at the bottom of the page with a flourish. Austin Bancroft. His signature was bold and confident, just like him.

“There,” he said, handing the notebook back. “Official. Binding. One day you’ll be able to sell that for some serious coin.”

“I’m not selling my day planner.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Part of my charm.”

I couldn’t believe I was agreeing to fake date a man I’d known for less than twenty-four hours. A man who was using me as much as I was using him.

“So,” Austin said, raising his wine glass. “To our arrangement?”

I picked up my glass and clinked it against his. “To our arrangement.”

This was going to be interesting.

And terrifying.

And probably a complete disaster.

CHAPTER 13

AUSTIN

After the business of the arrangement was settled, something shifted between us. The tension eased, replaced by something more comfortable. More real, ironically enough. How odd that we had to commit to being fake so we could get real.

I wasn’t going to think too hard on that.

Melody tucked her day planner back into her bag and let out of a sigh of what I hoped was relief. I wasn’t a total idiot. I saw the flash of sadness or maybe it was disappointment when I first told her my proposal. She hid it quickly and seemed to be on board, but Ididfeel like a dick for a few seconds there.

But she seemed cool now. We got the business out of the way. I felt like it made things easier. No expectations.

“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Now that we’re officially fake dating, I should probably know more about you than what I can glean from your Instagram.”

“Like what?”

“Like why fashion? Why plus-size advocacy? What made you decide to build your whole career around it? And I don’t mean to sound like an ass, but is that your career? Is that your job?”

She laughed. “It is my job. I think I can call it a career.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “Influencer, correct?”

“Yes, that’s one word for it.”

“You obviously have some business sense if you’ve managed to build a career from taking pictures of yourself.”

“It’s a little more than that.”

“Sorry. I’m really not trying to be insulting, but I’m genuinely clueless about that whole world.”