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Deciding there’s no time like the present to kick off this grand charade, I saunter up to the happy couple and curl my hand possessively around Dash’s bicep. “Hi, honey, sorry I’m late.” After leaning down to press a surprise kiss on his perfectly sculpted cheek, I beam at Ms. Starlet. “Hello, I’m Callie. Dash’s girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” she blinks, then shoots a smirk at Dash. “Aren’t you a naughty boy? He didn’t mention you.”
“He’s like that,” I smile back. “Can’t take him anywhere.”
But Dash is unfazed. He slides an arm around my waist, pulling me closer against his body.
His solid, surprisingly muscular body.
“You weren’t complaining the other night,” he says, brushing hair back from my face and sending a shiver down my spine at the unexpected touch. “She likes it when we meet new people,” he adds with a wink to the actress. “Callie’s very… open like that.”
“Really?” the actress looks at me with a new interest in her eyes. “We should hang out in LA then. The three of us,” she says meaningfully.
My mind is still reeling from the feel of Dash pressed up against me, so I don’t immediately figure her tone.
She checks her watch. “I have to get going. Great to see you. Both of you,” she adds, leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.
Both cheeks.
As her hand slides down my arm.
And rests briefly on my ass.
Huh?.
The actress saunters away, leaving my jaw dropped. “Did she…?” I ask Dash, confused.
“Just invite us to a threesome? Yup. How about it?” he asks with a grin.
I splutter. “I… But… Seriously?”
“You should be flattered,” he continues, taking a sip of what most definitely isn’t soda. “She’s known to be pretty picky.”
“I… Can’t even go into that right now,” I say, shaking my head. Five minutes into this charade, and I’m already in way over my head. Getting invited to a threesome with a megastar at an ungodly hour in the morning? It’s clearly just another day to Dash, but this is so not my normal life. “So, is this what I can expect for the weekend?” I ask him, not even kidding. “My loving, doting boyfriend setting up orgies for us at every turn?”
“Technically, an orgy is more than four people—” Dash starts to answer with a. grin, but I cut him off.
“I mean it! I’m not the only one who needs to put on a show here. Your grandmother is never going to buy that you’re reformed if you’re flirting with everything in a skirt.”
Dash lifts his palm, his expression mock-serious. “I hereby solemnly vow to be the most loyal fake boyfriend ever. No flirting, except with my lovely fake girlfriend.” He pauses for a beat and that dimple appears. “At least, whenever Zelda is looking.”
I inhale. Looking down at me from behind those thick eyelashes, lips pouting in sincerity, Dash looks disarmingly innocent.
Except if the last five minutes have taught me anything, it’s that he could give that actress a run for her Emmy.
“Works for me,” I shrug, like I’m not ruffled. “So long as I get my investment money.”
* * *
By the time we board, I’ve sworn to myself not to get overwhelmed by anything else on this trip. After all, it’s not like I’m some wide-eyed innocent. I’m a grown woman who’s lived in New York, I can take wild propositions and handsome men in stride.
But I have to admit, it’s hard not to squeal over the first-class cabin. Leather seats that recline all the way, enough leg room for an NBA star. No worrying about manspreading or fighting over the arm rests. I’m not about to protest this tiny bit of luxury.
Like a gentleman, Dash takes my bag and swings it up in the overhead bin. His shirt rides up, revealing a tanned strip of stomach, and a trail of golden hairs snaking down to—
I avert my eyes. Focus. And not on his delicious abs.
I clear my throat and get settled in the window seat, whipping out my trusty notebook and pen. “OK,” I say firmly, keeping my mind—and eyes—fixed on the prize. “What’s the lowdown?”
