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“But thanks for lunch,” I add, trying to be polite. “And I’ll take another round of sushi rolls to go.”
“You’re still hungry?”
“Nope. But you’re treating my coworkers to lunch, too,” I say with a smile, and then make my exit, smiling at the nerve on that guy.
The nerve, and the charm, and those perfectly fitting seersucker pants…
* * *
“Well?” Lorelei finds me in the breakroom back at work, helping myself to yet another roll.
They’re delicious. Sue me.
“How did it go?” she demands. “What did he want?”
“What did who want?” My other favorite coworker, Frederik, joins us. He works the fine leather goods counter and can make the snooty socialites drop unspeakable amounts with just a furrow of his bored-looking brow. “Hinoki, fancy,” he says, spying the box label. “Who won the lottery?”
“Phineas Dashford the fourth,” Lorlelei answers with her mouth full. “He’s wooing Callie.”
“He is?” the brow furrows. “Why?’
“Gee, thanks,” I lightly hit his arm. “Am I not woo-able?”
“Ooh, toro,” Frederik says, without answering. I laugh, because after all, he’s right.
“Frederik’s right, Dash wasn’t asking me out for real. He had this crazy offer.” I tell them all about the grandmother, the trust fund, and the insane idea that I would play his dutiful girlfriend for the weekend. “… Can you believe it?” I finish.
“What did you say?” Lorelei demands. “You’ll do it, right?”
“Of course she will,” Frederik says.
Two sets of eyes fix on me expectantly. I feel like I’ve stumbled into the Twilight Zone. “Did they inject something into those eel rolls? Of course I didn’t say yes! I barely know the guy. He could be luring unsuspecting women to Palm Beach every other weekend just so he can sweeten up their flesh with copious amounts of key lime pie before cooking them into a casserole.”
Lorelei shakes her head. “Someone’s been watching too much Hannibal.”
Fair point. I just binge-watched every single episode over the last month. “Okay, fine,” I admit, “He’s probably not succumbing to homoerotic cannibalistic urges. That still doesn’t mean I should go.”
“Why not?” Frederik asks. “At least name some sky-high price tag and see if he bites.”
“Um, hello.” I ask. “Did you hear the part where he wants me to be his pretend girlfriend? In front of his grandmother? Don’t you think that’s a little, oh, I don’t know… Batshit? I mean, we’d have to put on a real show to convince her, like we’re in a real relationship. Hold hands, kiss…”
Lorelei gasps. “You like him.”
I scowl. “He’s arrogant, self-important, and has never had to do a day of real work in his life,” I reply quickly.
“Fine, then you lust him.” Lorelei studies me. “Don’t deny it, I can tell, you’re all flushed. And jumpy. You get awfully rabbit-like when you see a guy you want.”
I clear my throat, flashing back to the feel of his hand caressing mine, and those bottomless pools of blue gazing at me…
Busted.
“He’s an attractive guy,” I admit. “Objectively speaking. I would have to be made of stone not to notice.”
“So why not take the gig?” Fredrik pipes up, frowning. “You’d legitimately have a reason to be all over him. You wouldn’t even have to fake it,”
“Nope. Nuh-huh. No way,” I shake my head firmly. “Dash is like… Like… The three-for-one margaritas at Jimmies,” I say, naming an after-work hangout. “Sure, they seem like a great idea—”
“—and you have a ton of fun—” Lorelei chimes in.
