“Like what?”
“Obviously your name and where you live. Do you work. What does your family do for a living. Basic stuff like that.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.” She put her hand on her stomach.
“Do you want Ross to pull over?” Christ, she’d better not vomit in my car.
“I’ll be okay. I’m just nauseous thinking about answering a bunch of questions. Couldn’t you just take me home and tell them I wasn’t feeling well?”
“No, I can’t. They won’t believe we’re a couple if you don’t show up. I need you at all the events, Cyndee. That’s what we agreed on.”
“You’re right. Sorry.”
I peered at her out of the corner of my eye. She was chewing on her bottom lip, and I could tell she was deep in thought. Why hadn’t I prepared her in advance? Because I was an idiot.
“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine,” I told her, hoping to calm her down.
She twisted in her seat to face me. “My parents are average people. What do you I tell your family?”
“We can embellish your parents’ careers. What does your mom and dad do?”
“Embellish won’t be enough.” She shook her head. “My dad owns a small building company. I think he makes two hundred thousand a year. It’s not a lot for living in Boston. My mom is a teacher. We lived comfortably but we aren’t rich.”
“Those are respectable jobs, Cyndee. Don’t feel bad.”
“Compared to you and your family, mine is basically poverty level.”
“No fingers in your mouth.” I took her hand when she went to bite her nail. “You’ll ruin your pretty nails.”
The hard lines on her forehead softened. “Do you really like them?”
“I do.” I rubbed my thumb against the top of her hand. She had long, thin fingers. She could be a hand model for the finest jewelry designers. “When my family asks about yours, tell them your dad is in real estate, and your mother is a philanthropist.”
“But they aren’t into any of that.”
“My family will accept those answers because they know people with similar backgrounds who are billionaires. They’ll just assume your parents are too.”
“Really?” She appeared stunned.
“Yes, really.”
“And what is my job?”
“Trust fund baby. You’re just living your best life spending your parents’ money like most socialites.”
“A socialite like Paris Hilton? My name is not famous like hers. They won’t buy it.”
I nodded considering her words. “You’re right. Let’s stick with trust fund baby.”
“Ugh. I don’t like this, Fabio.”
The way my name rolled off her tongue made me feel weird. I shouldn’t like hearing her call me by my name, but I did. Dammit!
“We’re here,” Ross said, and not a moment too soon. I needed to get out of the car and breathe fresh air into my nose and lungs.
All I smelled was Cyndee’s intoxicating scent and she wasn’t even wearing perfume. I wouldn’t let Zia buy any and I had specifically told Cyndee not to wear any. Perfume weakened me, but apparently, Cyndee’s natural scent was much worse. I should’ve never instructed Ross to take us the long way to the bistro.
I thought it would be good to give Cyndee and I time together after the ballet, but I was horribly wrong. She wasn’t awful to be with and that was a problem.
