by Chelsea Hale
“You are a rare woman to care about the price.” He had a faraway look in his eyes.
“Am I? I don’t think that’s unusual to want to understand the value of something.” Besides, they weren’t really on a date, they were at a business meeting.
He cleared his throat, closing his menu and placing it on the table. “It so happens that the company has paid for the meal in advance. You may order as much as you like of anything you’d like and it won’t change the price.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s a very generous company,” she whispered.
“I’d like to think so.” A small smile crept back onto James’ face.
Emery realized she liked his smile. His perfectly straight white teeth, like they’d just been on an advertisement she’d created for the leading toothpaste or whitening treatment.
“So, what will you have?” he asked.
Emery asked him a few questions about the menu and soon they ordered.
James got up and brought the shrimp cocktail to the table.
“I believe you said you had some questions for me,” he said, taking a shrimp and dipping it into the sauce.
She pulled out her notebook. Throughout the day she’d filled two full pages of questions. “I wrote them down. Is that strange?”
He laughed. “No, I’m used to people interviewing me … I mean … you know, it’s the thing to do at this restaurant.” He coughed dramatically.
“Sarcasm. That’s good. My mother will believe that I like you just based on that.”
The top of his cheek crinkled underneath his eyes as he dipped a shrimp into the cocktail sauce. “Wow. Impressing your mother is easier than I thought.”
She rolled her eyes. “First, let’s get our story straight. How did we meet?”
Chapter 6
James chewed the shrimp, not believing that he’d almost blown his cover twice. What was he thinking telling her that he was used to interviews in this restaurant, at this table? What if she made the connection? At least she took it as sarcasm.
He thought it was adorable that she cared enough about her grandpa to at least make the fake relationship look real, even if it was only for a weekend. He wondered if he would be grilled by her family.
She looked at him expectantly, and he remembered she’d asked him a question.
He swallowed his shrimp. “How did we meet? That’s easy. Through a mutual friend, who happens to be your coworker and my college roommate.” Matt always had his back and getting to know Emery was going to be fun.
She’d been the only woman he’d ever brought here that was concerned about the prices and how much he might spend on her. It was adorable. The last two women he dated would only want to know the prices so they could order the most expensive items. Emery was such a contrast.
Why hadn’t Matt ever thought to set them up for real before? True, Emery wasn’t the typical type of gold-digging back-stabbing woman he was normally set up with, but that was a very good thing.
She exhaled loudly. “Look at that, one less lie I have to tell. Okay, great. What else? Our first date, what did we do?”
He gestured around them. “I wanted to impress you, so I took you to the nicest restaurant I could think of and we enjoyed a beautiful chandelier lit dinner together.”
“And we ate shrimp,” she said, taking another bite.
“And we ate shrimp,” he repeated, holding his in the air, like he was making a toast with a fluted glass, except it was just his shrimp covered in sauce. “How long have we been dating?”
“Three months?” She tilted her head as she said it.
James scratched his chin. He’d need to be super careful here. He didn’t expect that this would ever affect him, but he’d just gotten out of a relationship three and a half months ago. “Matt has been wanting to set me up forever, but maybe I didn’t start really thinking about it until two months ago.”
“Okay, so we can keep it vague, and maybe every day since we started dating is such a blur that it feels like only yesterday, or today, that we just met and started dating.”
James nodded. “That will work.”
“Now that we know our background, here are some easy questions. How old are you?”
James’ eyes widened. It really did feel like an interview. Of course, he’d never been attracted to the interviewer like he was today. “Thirty-One. How old are you?”
“Twenty-Nine.”
He laughed.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s so funny?”
“All women say they’re twenty-nine.” He pointed his fork at her playfully. “Rarely is it accurate.”
Her cheeks burned. “Did you want to see my driver’s license?”
Before he had time to respond, she dug around in her purse, not waiting for him to give an answer and produced a card. She had the best driver’s license picture he’d ever seen. His always turned out blurry or with him half-blinking his eyes.
“I believe you. Your birthday is coming up. Do you have anything fun planned?” He returned the driver’s license to her, and she put it away.
She smiled. “I’ve saved up some money to go on a tropical vacation during the winter time. By about mid-January our Christmas rush is done, and it doesn’t really start up again until the beginning of February, so I was thinking of taking some time then.”
“That sounds fun.”
“It did. But not as much fun as making sure I’m not pitied by my family this weekend.”
Crap. He felt stupid. He didn’t need her money, but yet she was making him take it to go with her to be her boyfriend, instead of taking a birthday trip. His stomach knotted. He needed to let her keep her money. “Hey, we can—”
Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s fine. I’m getting a Christmas bonus, and that should more than cover my trip.”
He nodded. No way was she going to let him help her. “This must be really important to you,” he said, though he wished he knew why.
She nodded. “It is. Thanks for helping me. I only have one rule.”
“A rule?”
“Yes. You’re not allowed to fall in love with my sister.”
“Why would I?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know, but they all do. I know we aren’t really dating, so fine afterwards, but just not for at least a month or two after we officially breakup, okay?”
He was having a hard time trying to follow her train of thought. “I’m not going to fall in love with your sister.”
She looked like she almost didn’t believe him, but then she asked, “Is your hair color new?”
“Why?” His heart started pounding at the question she’d asked. She might recognize him.
Couldn’t he just have one night out where his date didn’t know him as a billionaire, but got to know him for him?
She shrugged. “By your hairline there’s a mark. It looks like dye, but maybe it’s a bruise.”
It’d be easier if she just knew. Hopefully it wouldn’t blow his cover. “I’m trying something new for the Christmas holiday. Does it look bad?”
“I love the color, but maybe we get that washed off before we leave on Saturday?”
“I’ll make sure that I don’t have it on. Thanks for catching it. I tried to style my hair over it, but I guess I didn’t do a good enough job.”
“I didn’t mean it to come out like that.” She ducked her head.
“Don’t apologize. Your very candid opinions are attractive. I like that you’ll tell me your thoughts openly and honestly. It’s refreshing actually.”
“You are used to people being dishonest with you?”
How could he explain it, without giving away his secret? He didn’t understand exactly what he’d told her himself. “Not dishonest, necessarily. But people won’t share their opinions with me until after I give mine.”
“Hm. Why would that be?” she asked.
Thankfully he was saved from answering when the server came back. The food was pr
esented and they enjoyed their dinner. He was glad she was no longer worried about the cost of dinner, because he wanted her to enjoy herself.
He watched Emery's facial expressions as she ate the delicacies. “How is it?” he asked.
She smiled at him and pointed to the food with her fork. “This is literally the best food I’ve ever eaten. I can’t believe how good everything is.” She took another bite.
“I’m so glad you like it,” he said, a warmth spreading in his chest.
She had said the words like she really meant them, and not like she was just trying to impress him with a compliment. With each passing moment he was enjoying his time more with Emery.
“So, what do you do?” she asked. “You mentioned you had big-name clients.”
He should have expected that that would have been one of her first questions. He had his standard answers to all of the questions at the ready. He knew how to spin the article to put him in the light that he wanted to highlight for that particular article. But this was different—so different.
He did so many different things. He owned the basketball arena, several restaurants, even more car dealerships, some overseas projects, and investment companies. He did a lot of things, but which one would be the easiest to talk about? If he said he owned restaurants, she’d ask why they weren’t eating at his, and then he’d have to explain who he was. It was better to stick with the big-name clients. It was a safe place. “I work in investments.”
“Ah, I don’t follow that a ton, but I know a lot of people lost money lately. Were some of them your clients?”
“Yeah, financial trouble all around. I can’t go into specifics though. Confidentiality.” At least all of that was true. He hadn’t thought of his own lost investments as a problem, but when he looked at it as a dollar amount and not as a percentage of his total net worth, his losses were considerable enough to be seen as ‘financial trouble.’
“Do you like investments?” she asked.
Huh. He wouldn’t have believed it with her notepad of questions, but she actually thought of a question that he hadn’t been asked in an interview before or, come to think of it, on a date before either.
Had anybody, other than Matt, ever asked him if he liked anything he’d been doing? He had received lots of questions on how much money he had made and what his future plans were for making more money.
Questions about whether or not he enjoyed what he was doing never came up. Most of the time he didn’t think that his opinion mattered one way or the other, as long as he was making money in his different endeavors, but the question gave him pause.
“I take that as a no,” she said, when he didn’t answer her.
“No, I’ve just never been asked that before.” He mulled it over in his mind and said, “I do like investments. I like helping people make money so they can do great things. I really do enjoy everything I do.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you love it. I think everyone should love what they spend their life doing.”
“That’s a nice perspective, Emery. And you work with Matt at Above the Fold Advertising Agency?”
“Yes, I’m an account manager there. Matt and I have worked on several projects together. We’re paired together for a lot of pitches.”
“Your firm does a good job at advertising.” He’d used them several times, though he wouldn’t be able to tell her that. All of his advertising went through a third-party first.
He pushed his glasses up on his nose as they slipped down again. At any minute his disguise would be blown. Then again maybe the hair dye he picked up after the basketball game last night had done the trick. Okay, he hadn’t picked it up personally. He would have to get it professionally done before they left to meet her family. He already had an appointment for tomorrow.
“They do a great job, and I love working there. I have some great clients I work with.” She spun her fork in her hand. “What do you do for fun? I know you go to basketball games.”
His eyes widened. “You do?” He held his breath. She knew who he was.
“Of course. Matt took you to the game last night.” She tapped the side of her forehead and smiled. “I pay attention.”
“Right.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “It was great game.”
“That’s what Matt said. I’m glad you guys had such great seats.”
He let go of the thought that she was asking for an invitation to a game. After all, she thought Matt had gotten him the tickets. “Yeah, it’s nice to see the game up close.”
“So, what else should I know about you? Any allergies or phobias I should be aware of?”
He chuckled. “None.” Except his phobia to gold-diggers. But she didn’t need to know that. “What about you?” he asked, watching her twirl her fork around her plate.
“I’m not a huge fan of heights.”
“Okay, we’ll avoid the amusement parks.”
“Oh, I can do rides. As long as I’m strapped in, I’m fine. It’s the bungee jumping, sky diving, standing on really tall mountains, that sort of thing that I can’t handle.”
He nodded. “I think you’re safe then. I don’t mind hiking when I’m in the mountains or the Grand Canyon, I did that when I was a teenager, but, the rest of it, I don’t do either.”
“That’s good to hear.” She nodded.
He noticed that relief washed over her face. She must have a story. He wondered if she would tell him. “Did you … have you ever gone sky diving?” he asked.
She sucked in a breath. “No, but my ex, well he thought he’d almost convinced me to go one time and thought he would surprise me as a gift. Let’s just say that he probably didn’t like the fact that it was non-refundable.”
He nodded. “Noted. I won’t surprise you with anything unless I know you’ll love it.”
She smiled. “Considering we’re just pulling this off for the weekend, you don’t have to surprise me at all. In fact, I think I prefer if you don’t.”
Wow. Was she really not spontaneous, or was this just too weird of a situation to be thinking futuristically? It was only one weekend after all. He could follow her lead on all of this. He saluted at her. “Copy that, Goldleader.”
Her eyebrows rose, and before he could take it back she said, “Wait. Did you just Star Wars me?”
“You know Star Wars. I think I’m in love.” Yeah, he knew it was the same storyline over and over again, but he had to admit that it was one of his favorite shows.
She giggled, and he remembered how much he loved hearing that sound. “You did. You seriously did. And on our first date.” She laughed again.
He shrugged. There was no backtracking from this conversation. So what if he told her that he was a fan. “At least I called you Goldleader and not Wookiee or something.”
She shook her head, her wide smile revealing her beautiful white teeth. “You’re certainly a charmer. How are you not already snatched up?”
It was the glint in her eyes that told him she was teasing, and he was glad too, because he didn’t want to explain the drama that was why he was still single.
“And you recognized the quote, so … it takes one to know one.”
She playfully swatted his hand on the table, but he grabbed her hand as she did that. She made a face and stilled. “I suppose I did spot the quote. Can I have my hand back please?”
“Admit that you like Star Wars.”
“Why?” She tilted her head at him.
“Because it’s going to make a funny story when you tell your first date story to your family.” He held her hand, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles.
“And I’m not quoting those ridiculous ‘my hands are dirty’ lines.”
“Technically, my hands are a little dirty.”
Emery grinned. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?” He gave her his most innocent, I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about face.
She blew out a breath, but she smiled widely like maybe she was enjoying this too. “Quoting these
lines.”
James rolled his eyes. “I was this close to kissing you and hoping that C3PO didn’t come and interrupt us.”
At that moment the server came into their private dining area, and both James and Emery busted up laughing. The waiter looked confused and waited until they’d both composed themselves before handing them dessert menus.
James knew the desserts by heart, but he looked at the menu anyway. “Does anything look good to you?”
“Are you kidding? They all do!”
“That’s perfect.” He ordered one of each of the six desserts.
Emery's eyes widened.
“You’ll want to try all of them, especially if they all look good.”
She nodded slowly. “So, on our first date, we had shrimp, you quoted Star Wars—”
“We quoted Star Wars,” he said, correcting her. “Though I’ll have to admit that you were off-script and out of order.”
“And you ordered one of every dessert.”
“To split. They’re huge. I’ll have them box up the leftovers and you can enjoy them for a week.”
She watched him and he suddenly became self-conscious—a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. He’d never had so much fun in this room as he had with Emery.
Most of the time his conversation was really an interview. And okay, yes, he did have questions back and forth with her, but they were nothing like the stuffy interviewers he had to entertain, or the other women he’d dated who mostly asked questions about his holdings and his assets, as if there was nothing more to him than the transactions of moving money from one account to another.
Desserts were brought and the conversation revolved around their favorite ones. He enjoyed watching Emery's excitement at trying something new.
When was the last time he’d been this excited about these desserts? They were common place to him. Fancy and a slice of heaven in their own rites, but still, he had them weekly.
“These desserts take the cake,” she said. “Seriously these are so much better than my very favorite kind of cake.”
“Ah, what kind of cake is that?” he asked, interested in what her preferences were.