“What?” she snaps.
“Did I set the bar too high?”
Ashlyn’s normally sea-glass green eyes transition to a dark emerald. “Sign the papers and you have a deal.”
I bite back a smile and sign my name. Then I slide it across the table and grab my drink, which, by the way, is totally worth the bloat.
“So I gotta ask,” I say after she folds the paper up and neatly slips it into her purse. “What made you change your mind?”
Ashlyn looks at me with an expression that shows she’s clearly hiding something, but won’t expose what exactly. “Let’s just sayyou’re not the one who could benefit from this arrangement,” she says, taking a sip of her drink.
“Even though you just banned all the best kinds of benefits?” I jab just to be an ass.
But Ashlyn just sits back with a salty smile. “Trust me. You have your reasons, and I have mine.” She takes a sip and then swallows quickly. “Oh. And one more thing.”
Of course.
“The security cameras you have littering your whole house? Those have to go.”
I nearly spit out a mouthful of blackberries at that. “You want me to take down my security cameras.”
“Most of them, yes,” she nods. “Is that a problem?”
“Kind of, yeah,” I let out. “You do understand my profile in society, right? There’s a reason I live in a gated community surrounded by people of the same status. If I had my way, I’d live in a cabin in the mountains, but that’s how people like me get killed. I can’t just get rid of my cameras.”
“Like I said, just get rid of most of them. You can keep them on the porches. But the rest are overkill. Especially the ones that see into the bedrooms.”
I don’t love it, but as Ashlyn stares into my soul with the warmth of a king cobra ready to strike, I know there’s no sense in arguing.
“Fine,” I agree. “Anything else?”
“No, I think that about covers it,” she says.
“Great. Now we can clock out of work mode and enjoy our drinks. You hungry?” I ask scanning the QR code on the table.
“Kind of,” she admits, and I swear I see just the corner brick of her guard wall come down a little.
“You want appetizers?” I ask, scanning the menu for something that won’t completely destroy my maintenance.
“Alright,” she agrees.
We order a couple of things to share and then dive back into our drinks.
“Oh,” I swallow. “One more thing. Don’t worry about getting movers.”
“What do you mean?” she asks.
“Like a moving truck. For your things. My place is furnished.”
“Why would I need movers?” she asks.
“Because you’re going to be living with me,” I state.
“I never agreed to that,” she snaps back.
“Yeah, well it’s kind of a given if we are going to convince people that we are in love,” I say.
Ashlyn just laughs. “It’s one thing to convince people we are in a relationship. But I doubt I could ever fake being in love with you.”
