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When she looks at me she’s focused, or as focused as someone can be a half hour after they left a drunken bachelorette party.
A part of me misses seeing the confident beauty she’s tucking away, but the rest of me is relieved to seemyAmelia come back. The one who focuses on the challenge in front of her, and survives on over sweetened coffee, and stands up to me even when it makes her nervous.
I only met her two weeks ago, but I already know, deep in my gut—she’s the only person I could pull off this crazy plan with.
The food arrives, and Amelia squirts ketchup over the whole plate of fries in a chaotic zig zag pattern.
“You’re staring,” she says.
“I’ve never seen such a messy way of eating fries. You’re going to get the ketchup all over your fingers. What’s wrong with dipping?”
Amelia holds up a finger. “You’re the one who wants to fake an engagement. Of the two of us, I think my ketchup habits fall pretty low on the crazy scale.”
Right. The reason we’re here.
I lean back on the booth, watching her. “So what’s holding you back? Don’t you want to make three year’s salary in two months?”
“Of course I do,” Amelia says. “But it’s not just about the money. I need to make connections.”
“You mean poach my clients,” I say.
“Nooooo,” she protests, drawing it out. “Not exactly. More like, offer an alternative option for the clients who are too small for you to bother with.”
“Fair,” I acknowledge. It’s not a bad angle. Companies reach out to us all the time who then realize they can’t afford our services. Normally when that happens, I recommend they reach out to one of the smaller firms I know. The smaller marketing firms appreciate the favor, and the client will feel good about us if they end up needing a bigger marketing firm in the future.
“Tell you what,” I say. “I will give your business my personal recommendation and offer an introduction to anyone you want.”
Amelia leans in. “How much is that recommendation worth after we ‘break up’ though? They’ll think you’re recommending me out of pity because you dumped me.”
“They’ll think you’re so good, I’m recommending youeven afteryou broke my heart.”
She snorts. “No one’s going to believe I broke your heart.”
“I have a heart,” I say, indignant. I love my mom, and my daughter Kiera, and...ok, that’s it. But that doesn’t mean I’m incapable of loving someone else. If she was the right woman.
“That’s not what I mean,” Amelia says. She looks down and pokes at her eggs. “You’re the handsome, sophisticated billionaire no one can tie down. I’m just...me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, irritated. “You’re great.”
She shakes her head. “Forget it. I wasn’t trying to fish for compliments. I’m just being realistic about what people willthink. I mean, in order for this to work you would need to convince everyone you’re in love withme.It just doesn’t seem realistic—”
“Hey.” I catch her hand. “Look at me, Amelia.”
She does. All wide-eyed, and trusting, and the tiniest bit cynical about her own self-worth.
I want to smack whatever asshole made her think she isn’t the sort of woman anyone could fall for.
I squeeze her hand. “I promise, while we’re doing this and after, no one will doubt my feelings for you. I won’t embarrass you, and I won’t let anyone else make you feel foolish either.”
She stares at me, and something in my chest tightens.
Amelia pulls her hand out of my grasp, and I’m surprised by how much I don’t want to let go.
She forces a smile and teases, “You’re that good an actor?”
With you, sure, I think.
But what I say is, “If it helps me beat my dad, I can win a damn Oscar.”
