“I did. The white font was a cute touch though,” I bantered, and her smile lifted on one side, completely changing the air in the room.
“Your reply annoyed me,” she replied with a refreshing amount of sincerity.
“What?” I chuckled. “Why?”
“I put a lot of time into my email and yours was rushed and dismissive.”
“So, you wished me a dry, anal fisting?”
“That’s correct.” The surety in her stance only enhanced the ridiculousness of it all, and I tipped my head back, laughing.
“I’ve missed you,” I replied candidly. “You and that Evy fire. Damn Micallef trait if I’ve ever seen one.” She fought as hard as she could, but the corners of her mouth twitched. “So, you’llmove in with me and let me pay you?” I clarified, focusing on the things she didn’t seem opposed to while I had her smiling.
“Pay me triple what I was earning and give me my own room?” She counteroffered and I smirked on a nod.
“Correct.”
“I want to see your house first,” her refusal to simply accept had me biting back another laugh. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed a conversation as much as this one.
“Of course,” I shrugged, feeling strangely energised. Her pragmatic, self-assuredness was one of the reasons why I liked her so much. Why she had never just been Seb’s younger sister, but a friend. Her grounded, logical approach to life was the same as her brother’s and it made them both trustworthy. Something I didn’t find easy with many of the people who I’d had in my world.
“I love to bake. And I don’t like people. I wake up early and I wear headphones a lot and will ignore you if you try to talk to me when they’re on,” she challenged.
“Evs, I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I’m not a stranger. I know you and your brother are two of the seven dwarves, sharing the Grumpy hat. I know you make the best desserts in the world, your mum a close second, and I know you need your own space.” The facts were pulled easily from my memory as if they lingered just below the surface waiting to be called upon.
Her bottom lip pressed out a little further, as if thinking this through was causing her to pout. Those deep brown eyes encased by the darkest of lashes and framed by a pair of black square glasses I’d never seen her wear, gave her a sexy little accountant vibe and I had to remind myself of who she was before I fantasised about sweeping the documents from my desk and – fuck, nope.
Not okay.
“Fine but stop avoiding my main question! Tell me why I need to be your fiancée and madly in love with you?” She was unflinchingly direct, the opposite to what I was currentlybeing, and her tone cut through the fog of my less-than-innocent thoughts.
I sighed heavily, scratching the back of my head before meeting her gaze and digging deep for some courage.
She deserved the truth. I owed her that and I’d expect no less if the situation were reversed.
“I’m not sure if you remember my parents,” I started, and she nodded.
“They’re insufferable,” she replied plainly, and another unexpected laugh shot out of me. “Sorry, that was rude,” she mumbled, her cheeks turning a shade of red which only made me laugh more.
“No, it’s an accurate assessment, I just wasn’t expecting such honesty,” I chuckled. “You’re right, they’re insufferable, and they are currently trying to set me up with the daughter of one of their friends. I was there recently, and they were inviting her over and I panicked.” Leaning my head until my neck cracked, I tried to release the building tension by actually saying this aloud. “I told them I was seeing someone and when they asked who, your name fell from my mouth.” Grimacing, I waited for her anger.
“What’s wrong with their friend’s daughter?” She asked, taking me by surprise.
“Other than the fact we have nothing in common, absolutely nothing.”
“So why don’t you ask her to pretend?” There was nothing malicious in her questioning, she was genuinely trying to quantify the situation in her mind, and it was a fair thing to ask.
Shit, I didn’t have a good enough excuse other than the thought of pretending with Samantha made me feel uncomfortable. That when considering the thought of a girlfriend or even marriage it was as if my subconscious knew there was no other choice.
“Because I’m asking you.” I said instead.
“Right,” her brows scrunched as she pondered my words. “Live at your house for the duration I’m here. Work as apaidemployee for four months rather than six weeks – which we will be circling back to, and pretend to be your entirely besotted lover if your parents are around?” With each item she raised a finger to emphasise her points.
“Four months because my parents have an annual charity dinner they host and if I’m single, they will use it as a golden opportunity to remind me how another year has passed where I haven’t met their expectations and then try to thrust some poor woman onto me. But otherwise, yep. That’s the proposition. Although, I will need to telleveryonewe’re dating. If my parents get a whiff that it’s a charade, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
I grimaced, this was a bigger ask than I initially realised. I was asking her to alter her entire life almost and be around people who were intolerable. Speaking quickly, to soften the deal, I added, “And in turn I’ll finalise your intern requirements and pay you generously. I’ll be getting far more out of this than you,” I said truthfully, with another glance at the months of backlogged accounts which needed organising. “And I-”
“I agree to everything,” she interjected, and I stood up straight, shocked by how easily she acquiesced to what was outlandish even to me. “But,” she said and my face fell. Here it comes. “I won’t lie to Sebastian or my mum. We tell them the truth.”
