Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Now I laugh. When he doesn’t so much as smirk, I realize he’s serious.
“You want me to move? Like, out of my apartment and in with you?” There’s no way. I agreed to go to an awards dinner. This arrangement is spiraling.
“Temporarily,” he says. “Like you say, if we were really engaged, we’d be living together.”
“No way. There’s no need. We can say you’re old-fashioned—”
“I’m not,” he cuts me off. “This has to be believable.”
He’s not wrong, but I didn’t agree to upend my entire life. “Who’s going to know? I’m going to be working at The Mayfair, so it’s not like we have to arrive to work together.”
“I don’t want there to be any chance of anyone discovering this isn’t real. You moving in is a deal breaker for me.”
Deal breaker? So it’s this or I don’t get my chance at managing The Mayfair? That doesn’t seem fair. But what choice do I have? “For how long?”
“We have a month until the awards ceremony.”
A month? It’s all I can do to keep seated and not race out of the office, pack up my shit, and start searching LinkedIn for other jobs. There’s no way I can live with him for a month.
Can I?
For the job I’ve always wanted? To make my mom proud? To show her girls like her and me can do anything we set our minds to, just like she always told me?
I remember the last time my dad left. I was old enough to understand that we didn’t have much money and it was going to be difficult financially for us. Looking back, she must have been terrified that she wasn’t going to be able to make ends meet. But she did what she always did—she made it work. And that’s what I have to do now.
“A month,” I say. “And we break up right after the awards ceremony?”
“Maybe you go back to your place because you need some space. But the engagement’s still on for a couple of weeks.”
“But wouldn’t I have sublet my apartment?” I’m trying to find flaws in the plan, because I want to know what I’m getting myself into from the get-go.
Leo looks puzzled. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m rich as fuck. Why would you need to sublet your apartment?”
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll move in over the weekend. You have a separate bedroom, right?”
“I have four guest bedrooms. You’re welcome to any of them. Or all of them.”
“Because, like, there’s not going to be a reason to share a bed, is there?”
“I can’t think of one,” he says.
He’s not getting it. I’m not talking about sharing a bed. I’m trying to say to him that sex isn’t part of the deal. He hasn’t given me any reason to think that he thinks it is, but I need to be sure before I move my stuff into his place.
“Because this is a strictly professional relationship. There’s no… like the engagement isn’t, you know… you don’t have any physical expectations.”
His eyes grow saucer-wide and his mouth drops open. “No,” he says hurriedly. “I’m not expecting anything physical from you.”
It’s not that I’m disappointed—I’m definitely not. Leo Hart is exactly the kind of guy I don’t want to date, or get engaged to, but he was a little too effusive in his reply.
Maybe he sees my conflicted feelings, because he adds, “Not because you’re not attractive, it’s just—”
I cut him off with a groan. “No, don’t say anything more. It will only get more awkward. Let’s leave it at we’re going to pretend to be engaged until just after the awards ceremony, but we’re not going to have sex.”
“Ever,” he says, relief spilling out of him. “Guaranteed.”
“Perfect,” I say, my tone a little tighter than normal.
ELEVEN
Jules
I know this is all for show and it’s not like I expected anything else, but moving myself into my fiancé’s apartment without my fiancé feels a little weird. Since I stepped through the front door, I’ve felt like I’m somewhere I shouldn’t be. All of a sudden, the fact that we met before I interviewed to be his assistant feels like a big deal. Maybe it’s because being in his apartment feels like he’s showing me his secrets while I’m keeping secrets of my own.
I’m already firm friends with the receptionists at Leo’s building. I’ve explained I’m moving in and that I’m his girlfriend. Thankfully, they didn’t roll their eyes and comment, “Not another one.” I don’t know if Leo has lived with someone before. Maybe he’s lived with a harem of women.
The truth is, I don’t need to know. I shouldn’t care. I just need to focus on me and the next month. The Mayfair isn’t going to know what hit it.
I tip the moving guys I hired on Leo’s dime to haul the dozen boxes I filled, then shut the door. I haven’t been in the apartment with Leo yet. He just handed me his keys, I arranged copies, and now here I am. Not exactly how moving in with a new guy would normally go, I imagine, but there’s nothing normal about our situation.