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“Clint Bryson is a traditional man. Very old school. That’s why he wants a home-cooked meal tonight—I don’t think he gets very many of those, being that he’s usually jet-setting around the world. The life of an oil tycoon, I suppose.” He shrugs his meaty shoulders.
I deadpan, “Wow. I hate him already.”
He smirks. “Can’t blame you.”
“Go on.” We set everything ready for whenever the oil tycoon shows up. I can finally relax, if Cormac would spit out this favor already. He’s been dragging it out so long that now I’m nervous, too.
“He’s family-oriented.”
“And?”
It’s the most nervous I have ever seen Cormac. He chews on the inside corner of his lip, almost giving himself a dimple, and it’s too damned cute. Whatever he’s about to ask, I’ll say yes. And I hate myself for being so easily manipulated, but at the moment, I don’t care.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind pretending to be my girlfriend tonight.”
“Oh, that’s easy.”
He frowns. “How’s that?”
“Just tell your accountant you had to hire an actress.”
He laughs once. “I’m not sure if that’s a yes.”
I sigh. “Cormac, this is a lot.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I don’t mean to ask so much of you, Lily. But like I said, he’s got a thing about family and tradition and all that stuff. If I am a single dad with two kids and no one to anchor the family, he’ll worry. And that makes me worry he won’t invest with us.”
“Surely you have other investors—
“None who are putting up this kind of cash. Without his investment, the resort’s construction will take years instead of being done in the next year and a half. Possibly even sooner, if he’s happy with us. Clint bases his investments on his gut feeling, and he’s from Texas, so—
“And you didn’t think to ask for barbecue or steaks?”
He frowns. “Can you do barbecue in ninety minutes?”
“Okay, fair point. No—you can’t really do barbecue in ninety minutes. But I could have done steaks or beef of some kind. Dammit.” I turned to the stove, wondering if I’d already completely fucked the dinner up.
“I’m sure he’ll love the meal, Lily. Don’t know how he couldn’t—you’re an incredible chef, and it all smells amazing.”
“You’re just saying that.”
Cormac stands next to me, his hand near mine. The closeness makes my stomach flutter. “I’m not. You know how good you are. Don’t get in your head.”
I sigh. “Sorry. I’m just…I need a kitchen again or something. Just not ready for that. I don’t know.”
“Well, that works out for me,” he teases, gently elbowing my ribs.
I smile and roll my eyes. “Lucky for you.”
“Lily, I know it’s a hell of an ask…”
“You can say that again.”
“Lily, I know it’s a—
I elbow him back, a little harder than he got me. He laughs. “You were half right before, you know.”
“Halfright? I’m never onlyhalfright about anything,” he kids.
