Page 35 of Ardently Yours

I’m trying to process all of this, and he starts talking again, but it sounds muffled to me. I see his lips moving, and I can tell there are words coming out of his mouth.

For some reason, my brain isn’t allowing me to focus on what he’s saying. I blink at him, trying to pull myself out of this frozen state.

“I’m going to need you to say that again because I totally blanked out on you. And you can’t blame me for that because I’m pretty sure you just said something crazy. We already went through this. I freaked out the other day, and I’m so sorry that I did. I know I asked you to be my fake boyfriend. You were just there, and I panicked. I’m so sorry that I did that because I feel like ever since I said it, it’s become this whole thing.”

“No, no, no,” he says calmly. “You were onto something then, but I thought maybe you were just reacting because of what you were going through. It wasn’t until I started realizing this plan has to work because I need help and you need help too. Well, if you’re still up for it, I think we really could come together and...”

“Pretend?” I ask incredulously. “And how would we pull any of this off?”

“It wouldn’t all be pretend. Us being business partners would always be real. But if we acted like we’re in a relationship, it would help me save face in front of my family. And it could help you as well. We are both ambitious, funny, kind and we’d look good together. I’m trying to explain it to you, and now I just feel really stupid saying it all out loud.”

“Well, you said it.” I stand up, throwing my hands into the air. And I think I might be crazy enough to go along with it, especially since the cafe needs the money and my romance situation has gotten so much worse.

“Not only did Billie show up at my family dinner the other night, and that ended exactly how I thought it would, but I also brought that charming police officer everybody warned me about to dinner. He was perfect. Until one of my sisters told me that he hit on her and basically goes around the local college campus scouting for his next girlfriend. So, there goes my potential boyfriend.”

“I’m so sorry that it didn’t work out with that loser,” he says. I shoot him a look because I know he warned me about George. But he continues, not backing down. “I mean it. You deserve better than him. So, I have to ask, if we do this, do you think we could make this work, Lizzie?” he asks me.

I flinch because I’m not used to him calling me by my first name. But if we go through with this, I’ll have to get used to it. And I’ll have to call him Will instead of Darcy all the time. I groan. I don’t know if I’m ready for this yet.

“Am I that repulsive to you?” he asks.

Even though I know he has to be joking, when I look at him, I notice the look in his eyes. It’s barely there, but I see it. The doubt. I’m used to a confident, witty man. He’s the one who pitched me a business proposal and a relationship proposition at the same time. Not the man who doubts that he’s worth it. But I latch onto that because I see myself in it.

He talked about us being alike because of our ambition, but I see it now. It’s more than that. We are alike because we’re the same. Trying so hard to prove ourselves that it leaves us depleted and lonely in the end.

“I have to tell you something first,” I say, feeling the need to open up a little more. “The cafe needs the money. We are losing the grant. So, as much as I hate to admit it, you may be on to something.”

“You should have told me,” he says, not accusing me, but concerned. “I really do want to help. Let me.”

His help would be appreciated. And his plan is meant to help both of us. It should anyway. It may save the cafe. It may change our families’ perspectives of us.

But wait. I have questions for him. The first question is…

“How on earth is any of this really going to work?”

Chapter Twelve

Will

Ithink about Lizzie’s very valid question. I also think about how much it upsets me to hear that I was right about the police officer. I know Lizzie and I joke around, but I do want her to be happy. And I hate that this happened to her.

But I don’t know why hearing that it didn’t work out with him also makes me a little happy. Maybe it’s because I really do think she deserves better. Better than some creepy police officer and some delusional ex-fiancé.

And I don’t know why I think I could be good for her, even if it’s just as a fake boyfriend. But I hope it helps. Even if it helps those idiots who lost her see how much of an amazing woman they fumbled, then maybe I’ve done my job.

“We’d be helping each other,” I say.

“Yes, but in all seriousness, how are we really going to pull this off? I already mentioned the other day, when the crew was here, about my stupid plot to fake date you so I could deal with all the Billie issues I’ve been having. They already know that was the plan, even though it never became a thing. So how are we going to do it now and convince everybody it’s real when it’s not?”

She’s pacing behind her desk now, not looking at me. I can tell she is half thinking out loud and half talking to me. I sit back in my chair, exhaling.

Maybe we are in over our heads. Maybe we are both at a point in our lives where we’re so desperate that the idea of pulling this off together is both something to look forward to and something that scares us. Or both.

I can tell it’s making her anxious, but I can also tell she is thinking about it, which is exactly what I need her to do. Every time my mind starts trying to think this through logically, I remember that I’m about to lose my trust fund if I don’t figure something out soon.

“And wait a minute,” she says before I can reply. “You still owe me an explanation.”

“Well, I was going to answer your questions, but you keep talking.”