He ignored the flicker of warmth in his chest at her indignation on his behalf and pushed the fries around on his plate just to have something to do with his hands. “Wolf’s an old friend of Uncle Stu’s and my dad. They went to Williston together and those prep school roots run deep. Deep enough to ask me to submit for the project, but apparently not so deep that he’s willing to work with...” He lowered his eyes, dragging his finger through the condensation on the outside of his glass so he wouldn’t have to look at her when he said it. “…a ‘lothario’—his word, not mine.”
“Is he the villain in a historical romance? Who talks like that?Lothario.”
“The film is documenting what is apparently going to be a pretty tight race and the senator wants a clean crew that the conservative media won’t be able to dig up any dirt on.”
“In the film industry? Good luck with that,” she snorted.
“Wolf’s team found some bullshit article the student newspaper ran a year or so ago that ranked Liam and me as the most eligible professors on campus. It didn’t paint me in the most flattering light for the conservative set.”
“Ah. The adjuncts,” she said, with a knowing nod. How the hell did Callie know about the adjuncts? He wasn’t secretive about his love life, but he’d definitely never discussed it with her.
“Wolf will be at the wedding. It’s my last chance to prove to him that I’m not a liability on the project. If I don’t get this job… I don’t know if I’ll get another chance like this.” He took another bite of his burger, and then threw it down, disgusted with the situation he found himself in and bored by his lunch.
“Give me that.” Callie pulled his plate towards her. She ripped off the top bun and slathered it with a thick layer of her Thousand Island dressing.
“What are you doing?”
“You can’t expect food to have any flavor when you don’t give it any.” She shook her head like he was an idiot as she sprinkled the patty with pepper. She dug into her omelet and pulled out a few pieces of mushroom and roasted red pepper, laying them on top of the burger before returning the top bun and sliding it back across the table towards him. She gestured with her eyes to the plate. “Go on.”
Noah steeled himself and took a bite, never taking his eyes off Callie. His taste buds exploded with a symphony of flavors—tangy and earthy and acidic.
“How did you do that?” he asked, hungrily taking another bite.
Callie shrugged and took a long sip of her milkshake, her lips curving into a smile around the straw. “Sometimes you have to color outside the lines.”
“You’re an expert at that.”
Suddenly Callie’s whole face changed. Her eyes lit up and her grin turned mischievous.
Noah grunted. “I know that look. I’ve been grounded for not stopping you and Liv from doing the shit that comes after that look.”
“When we were kids,” she said, the grin still firmly in place. “We’re not kids anymore.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, no,” Noah said around a mouthful of burger.
“What if we could solve both of our problems at once?” she asked, pushing her plate to the side and leaning forward. “Noah, we could do this!”
“Do what exactly?”
“You need to convince Wolf that you’re not a playboy, and I need my mom to think I’ve got someone significant in my life. It’s perfect!”
His heart pounded. “You cannot be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting.”
“All we have to do is convince everyone that we’re a couple. An honest-to-God, can’t live without each other, one step away from buying curtains together couple.”
There was a time once when he thought they might actually be that couple someday, no convincing required. The thought of it made him restless, like his blood had gone fizzy and everything was moving in slow motion. He shook his head, forcing the thought from his mind.A lifetime ago, he reminded himself.
“You want to pretend to be a couple? At my sister’s wedding? You’ve been reading too many romance novels.”
“It’s because I’ve read all those romance novels that I know exactly what to do. It could work! Hold on,” she said, digging into her purse. With a squeal of excitement, she pulled out a small teardrop shaped piece of gold hanging from a thin metal chain. “We’ll ask the pendulum.”
She rested her elbows on the table, took a deep breath, and held the chain suspended over the table, the metal piece swinging side to side. “Thank you,” she said, as if she was talking to the metal, and almost immediately the piece began swinging front to back instead.
“What are you doing?”
She shushed him and thanked the object again. This time, it began spinning in a circle. A third time she thanked the object, and the movement stilled. With her free hand, she reached across the table and gripped his hand. Her skin was so damn soft—how could a hand even be that soft?
With her eyes fixed on the pendulum, she spoke softly. “Should we pretend to be a couple?” The pendulum began swinging front to back in larger arcs with each pass. She met his eyes, an irrepressible grin splitting across her face. “See! Even the pendulum thinks it’s a good idea.”
