Page 581 of Manhattan Bossholes

She rifled through her bag as I spoke, then tossed a small notebook and pen on the table between us. “We’ll write it down and sign off. Okay?”

I shook my head at her, frustrated and charmed at the same time. “Fine.”

“Let’s start with the big stuff. Kissing is allowed, but only when cameras are present.” She raised an eyebrow at me, her pen hovering above the page.

“Of course,” I said quickly, hoping the image in my head of taking her into my arms would blur.

“And no tongue.”

“Definitely. No tongue.”

I wasn’t able to block a brief flash of pressing my lips to hers, and our tongues ignoring the rules. I felt a familiar stirring below my belt.

She continued scribbling. “Holding hands is okay, both on camera, and when we suspect people are watching.”

“Like now?” I asked.

Her eyes darted to the girls. “Yes. Like now.” She licked her lips nervously.

I reached my hand across the table and threaded my fingers through hers. The girls let out an excited yip.

“Is this okay?” I asked in a low voice.

Felicity tightened her grip and let her thumb caress my hand. Damn, she was a surprisingly good actress.

She adjusted her expression, softening her eyes. “It is.” She scribbled a messy note with her free hand.

“Walking arm-in-arm?” I asked.

“Duh, of course,” she scribbled again.

“As for the engagement itself, I’ll pick the ring.”

Felicity started to sputter a response but realized how it could look if she appeared outwardly frustrated with me. She gave me a sweet smile, even if I could tell her teeth were clenched. “I’m basically being forced into this, can I at least have a say in that part?”

“And you think I’m not being forced?” I was smiling, but I was sure she could hear the frustration in my voice. “No, Felicity, I’m the ring expert, I get to choose.”

She narrowed her eyes to glare at me for a moment. “Fine.” She scribbled another note. “I’m including my rate on here.”

“Perfect. I think that about sums it up,” I said, glancing at my phone again. “I need to get going.”

Felicity let go of my hand and ripped the paper from the notebook. She slid it toward me.

“Sign.”

I tipped my head at her, smiling deviously. “Manners, my darling.”

She widened her eyes, and I could tell it was taking all her strength not to scream at me. Maybe this little charade was going to be fun after all.

“Sign, please.” Her voice was syrupy sweet, and she had the nerve to bat her lashes at me. “Dearest.”

I scribbled my name below the messy checklist and handed it back to her. “Now it’s official.”

Something changed in her face, like she was shifting into character. Her forehead relaxed, her eyes took on a sparkle, and the smile she beamed at me looked one hundred percent genuine.

“You’re going to learn very quickly how important appearances are in the social media world,” she said in a soft voice. “You think you know what it takes, but you have no idea. So, follow my lead.”

Following wasn’t my style.