The little skeptic arches a brow, and I chuckle.
“Okay, fine. I need you, too.” That, at least, earns me a smile. Thank Christ for small favors. “Besides, I want to be there when you come to your senses and ditch this ridiculous plan.”
Annoyance flashes across her face, but it’s gone in an instant.
“You’re serious?” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “You really mean to join me on this trip?”
“Yes.” Despite the fact that I’m going to catch hell from my brothers when they find out.
Ask forgiveness, not permission.
It’s a mindset that’s always served me well.
“And you think this is a better solution than simply hiring a new assistant?” she asks, words dripping with sarcasm.
“Hell, yes.”
The corner of her mouth twitches at my obvious desperation, but I let it roll off my back. The only thing that matters now is her answer. Our eyes lock, and she stares at me for a long moment, probably weighing her options and the outcome of each.
Meticulous, as always.
I’d expect nothing less.
“All right,” she finally says, voice taking on a sly edge. “I’ll let you tag along.Ifyou agree to travel as I do. No upgrades. No five-star hotels. No Michelin-star restaurants.”
That’s it? The lack of strings is a pleasant surprise.
“Done.” I snort. “What kind of snob do you take me for?”
“The kind whose shoes cost more than my monthly rent.” Lucy laughs, and it’s a light, airy sound reminiscent of better days. Days when I wasn’t up to my ass in problems.
“I mean it.” She jabs a finger in my direction. “The whole point of this trip is to show real people travelling on a budget. The world doesn’t need anotherLifestyles of the Rich and Photoshoppedbrand designed to make the masses feel inferior.”
“Fine.” After the week I’ve had, I’ll agree to just about anything. “How hard can it be, anyway?”
“For a guy used to room service and luxury accommodations?” She smiles up at me sweetly. “I imagine it’ll be impossible.”
The hell it will. Despite my current wealth, I’m no stranger to rough living conditions. I may enjoy the finer things in life—who doesn’t?—but I don’t need them to survive.
“I didn’t get where I am by caving under pressure.” I lean in close, pitching my voice low. “I can handle it. Can you?”
Indignation flares in her dark eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “that I don’t think you’ll last two weeks.”
“Ha.” Lucy crosses her arms. “Iwon’t last two weeks? You won’t last two days without your gourmet coffee and Egyptian cotton sheets.”
“Want to bet?” The words are out before I can think them through, but I latch onto them like a cowboy to a bronco.
“Bet?” she asks, a tiny wrinkle forming between her brows.
It’s the perfect solution. For both of us. When Lucy tires of living on the road, she can gracefully return to her old position and things can go back to the way they were before.
Anticipation races up my spine.
“We travel together for two weeks,” I say, thinking fast. “You help me get my life back in order, and I’ll take part in whatever rolling-stone influencer activities you have planned. Whoever throws in the towel first loses.”
Lucy is a city girl. She likes outdoor cafés and indoor plumbing. Living in a silver bullet won’t be as simple as she’s making it out to be. Then there are the practical issues to consider, like earning a paycheck.
