“Okay, then. I’ll show up when you need me to.”
“If we do this, I want to keep it professional. I know we’re friends, but it helps me to think of this as an arrangement. You’re doing me a favor, and I’m grateful. But I—”
“Dallas, tell me what you need. You’re the negotiator, correct? Let’s negotiate.” My gaze dropped to her mouth.So ready to be kissed.
“Now you’re talking my language.” She pulled out her phone and typed something on the screen. “I think it’s important we set our expectations early so there’s no confusion. First, we don’t have to make any statements to reporters. And we don’t necessarily have to have public displays of affection.”
I smirked. “When exactly can we display it?” Her eyes flashed to mine, and I added, “I just want to make sure I’m playing my role correctly. You know I’m a perfectionist.”
“No PDA, Preston,” she repeated.
“What about private?” I asked. She hid it well, but I’d caught the soft hitch in her breath, the way she swayed on her feet. And the only thing I could think of was,This is going to be fun.
Dallas ignored my question. “We can come up with a concrete plan tomorrow?”
“Dinner?”
“In public,” she countered.
“If we’re going to talk, it should probably be where no one can hear our conversation.”
She cursed. “Public dinner, private talk.”
I held out a hand, and she slipped hers into mine. “Deal.”
With her eyes locked on mine, she nodded. “Deal.” After a moment, she cleared her throat. “Preston?”
“Yes?”
“You’re touching me. My hand.”
I hadn’t realized I was still holding it. I let go. “Sorry.”
She averted her gaze. “Alright. I’ll call you and we can discuss the place and time.”
“Got it.”
“Thanks, Preston.” She blessed me with another smile, then she left.
I wanted to walk her out to her car, but I sensed she’d rather I not. I would give her that—this time. But something told me we’d just made a deal that would change everything for us. And I was here for it.
Chapter Seven
Someone to Watch Over Me
Dallas
With every passing day, I found myself feeling extremely uncomfortable in my surroundings. Going to the grocery store felt like an exercise in futility, because I couldn’t even pick a decent cucumber without eyes on me, without whispers about me from random women on the street, without someone making a comment about Kimball Payne and his trifling wife, Yasmin Ray. I was good at ignoring shit, but it’d become increasingly hard to tune out the noise.
Ordinary routines were now complicated. Instead of taking Washtenaw Avenue, I’d used the side streets on my ride home, a different route every day. To avoid being photographed outside my house, I’d hired a lawn service to cut my grass and do the things around my house I’d always loved to do.
Every public outing had turned into a huge deal. Like now, I was sitting in the middle of one of the best seafood restaurants in Ann Arbor and my mind was on everything but the Paella Valenciana in front of me. I stared down at the dish, one of my favorites. The smell of chicken, chorizo sausage, and spices made me hungry. But I couldn’t eat it.
I felt a soft elbow against my side. I peered over at Maya, who was watching me with concerned eyes. “Are you okay, sweetie?”
I pushed my fork around my plate and nodded. “I’m fine.” I forced a smile on my face, even knowing she’d never believe it was real.
“Thanks for coming on such short notice,” she said.
