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I gape because it's true.
"Yeah, that won’t cut it. Not for an event like this." He walks over to the passenger side and opens the door. "So, in the words of a wise woman, get in, we’re going shopping.”
It's my turn to be surprised. "You watchedMean Girls?"
"Chloe was obsessed with it when she was a teenager." He gestures for me to hop in.
I think about it for a few seconds. I can’t afford to buy an expensive dress just yet, but I also don't want to embarrass him at this event.
"Where are we going to buy it?" I ask to confirm it's not out of my budget but he only shakes his head.
"Not your problem. Get in, Ava." His voice doesn’t allow for arguments but my annoyance at his commanding tone won't allow me to obey.
"And If I don’t?" I ask.
He smirks. "Babe, you either get in the car voluntarily or I throw you in the car. Either way, your delicious butt is going to be on my plush leather seats in the next point five seconds. Your choice how it goes down."
Heat fills my face. I want to fight back but I know him too well and I know he’s exactly the type of man to take things that far and I don't want to make a scene at work.
"You must feel real manly threatening women, don’t you?" I say as I walk around to the passenger door.
His hand catches my elbow before I sit, and he whispers into my ear, "No. What feltmanlywas having my hand under your skirt and my tongue in your mouth, but since I won’t be doing that anymore, I guess I’ll have to settle for this."
I don’t have any comebacks for him, and as he lets go, I can only drop into the seat in disbelief.
We’re both quiet as the car hums away. He drives smoothly with one hand on the steering wheel and the other drumming on the console between us. I can tell his mind is far away but also he’s somehow attuned to every movement I make.
I watch him out of the corner of my eye. A man that commands billions of dollars and has people falling over each other to obey his every command is driving me shopping. He probably has women dying to be with him.
“Can I ask you a question?” I find myself breaking the silence.
“Is that the question?" he responds, and I shake my head.
“Why did you ask me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
"I already told you," he says. "There are a few pests I need to knock loose who are being very stubborn about it."
"Okay, but why did you chooseme? I’m sure plenty of women would havelovedto pretend to be your girlfriend."
He smiles at the word. "It’s precisely because you don’t love it that I chose you."
"Huh?"
"You don’t like me," he says. “You’re attracted to me, sure, but you can clearly see that behind all the bullshit, I'm not the type of man a woman should fall in love with. Which makes you smarter than ninety-nine percent of those others you mention."
I'm not so sure about that, my mind tells me.
And that's what terrifies me.
I text Mimi's babysitter to tell her I'll be late and muster up patience for the next however many hours of torture.
Maddox takes me to a designer store, and I try on dress after dress. The sales women swarm to us the minute we come in because they can probably smell the money on him. He makes them run around fetching every glittering dress in the vicinity and he doesn’t do the asshole thing and make it all about him. No, instead he's an even bigger asshole and makes it about me. He can somehow tell when I like something or my gaze lingers, because no matter how expensive it is, he makes them get it for me and asks me to try it on. He compliments me when I'm insecure and pushes me when I'm hesitant.
And I can see that it's easy to get lost in the illusion that this is real. It's easy to mistake his smiles for affection or his attention for care. But I won't let myself believe that because that wouldn't be smart.
It wouldn't be smart at all.
Chapter Ten
