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Hugh and I say goodbye to Jenkins and walk out of the office. We had both known going into this meeting that Jenkins wouldn't vow to stand by Sommerleigh Sweets no matter what. He runs a business, and his personal opinion of Hugh doesn't matter. If the Duke of Wackenbourne and his cronies put pressure on Jenkins, the man will have to give in for the sake of his company and his employees.
We board the elevator and find ourselves alone in the car.
I throw my arms around Hugh. "I'm so sorry that didn't go the way we'd both hoped."
"Don't apologize. We knew he wouldn't make a decision today, and it's unlikely he will decide in our favor."
Maybe it's weird that we both refer to his meeting and his company as if we're both invested in his business, as if we're partners. And maybe I shouldn't care this much about Hugh's well-being when I've known him for a week. But I do care, and feelings rarely adhere to logic or a predefined time line.
I keep my arms around Hugh until we reach the ground floor. Then we walk out of the elevator like two business professionals. We don't climb into a limo. Hugh told me the other day that he'd hired a limousine because he thought I would want that. When I assured him that I don't care what kind of car he has, he seemed surprised, but only for a moment. I also told him he should act like himself rather than trying to impress all those people who are more than happy to think the worst of him. Behaving like a gentleman, like his true self, will do more good than fancy limos and schmoozing with stuck-up rich people.
That means when we exit Jenkins Foods, we head for a car parked in the lot outside. No driver waits for us. Hugh helps me into the passenger side, then climbs into the driver's seat.
My next task might be the hardest of all. It's time to make him tell me about Scotland.
Chapter Eleven
Hugh
I settle into the driver's seat and shove the key into the ignition, but I freeze while still holding onto the key. Avery keeps telling me wealth doesn't matter and I need to impress everyone with my personality and my gentlemanly behavior. But I can't help feeling a bit odd about my car after those conversations. That's why I find myself looking at her and wincing. "Sorry. I don't own a normal car. Just the one my parents gave me when I turned eighteen. That would be this vehicle."
"A Jaguar sedan is hardly abnormal for an aristocrat who has money."
"But I thought you wanted me to seem normal."
"When did I say that? I told you to act like yourself and behave like a gentleman."
I twist the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbles to life. "But that sounded like—"
"Don't interpret what I say. Just listen and take it at face value."
"Sorry. I know I do that too often. Redefining your words, I mean." I back the car out of the space, which gives me an excuse to avoid looking at her. "I'll try to do better. But you did tell me to stop flirting."
"With anyone except for me, your fake girlfriend. That doesn't mean you can't be yourself."
"Right. I'm interpreting your words again, aren't I? Blimey, reinventing yourself is bloody hard work."
"Yes, it is."
Well, after the way I've cocked up my life, I deserve to suffer. The fact that I've learned my lesson makes no difference. I need to convince everyone else, all those people I don't even like, that I'm not a craven seducer.
Just as I put my foot on the accelerator, about to start driving, Avery lays a hand on my arm. "Let's go to your apartment."
I glance at her, and I'm positive I appear stunned. "My flat? Why? You said we should never do that."
"No, I did not say never. Now that we've established ourselves as a couple in public, we need to talk about a few things." She gives my arm a light squeeze. "Think of this as two friends having a conversation, not as torture, and you'll do fine."
Saying I will "do fine" doesn't ease my anxiety at all because I know what she means to interrogate me about—Scotland.
Just as I turn my head toward the front of the car, Avery grasps my face and forces me to look at her. "You need to do this, Hugh. Not for me, but for you. It's time to unburden yourself."
"I'll try, but—"
She presses her mouth to mine, firmly, for long enough that my cock is waking up and asking if it's time to shag her yet. Fortunately, she pulls away before I develop an embarrassing and unmistakable problem. I've never gotten embarrassed because I have an erection at an inconvenient time or place, but since I met Avery, I've become afflicted with a ridiculous amount of anxiety about everything.
Yes, she'll want to sleep with me now, won't she? A pathetic lump of a man is terribly attractive to women.
"Take me to your flat, Hugh," she says. When I just sit here like an ice sculpture, she points down at my feet. "That means you need to press down on the gas pedal."
