I can attest to that.“It’s all an act, Ci.” I hesitate. “There’s something else I haven’t told you.”
“I’m listening.”
“Kaz offered me a job as his public relations liaison and social media manager, and I accepted it.”
Ciara frowns. “I gather things didn’t work out with your client. I guess with the economy, going back to being a corporate florist would be too challenging?”
That ship has sailed.“It would be. This is a great opportunity I can really sink my teeth into. And being in charge of getting the word out about his charity would be pretty incredible.”
“In that case, I’m happy for you,” she says. More chin tapping. “So, you’re in a fake relationship with your new boss who happens to be your ex-boyfriend’s ex-stepdad. If your story were a romance book, you’d be hitting a lot of juicy tropes––hockey romance, grumpy x sunshine, opposites attract, fake boyfriend, office romance, ex-boyfriend’s stepdad, age gap, forbidden romance. Anything else I’m missing?”
I want to laugh, but my heart sinks at her words.
All romance novels end with a happy ever after. I’m carrying enough baggage to shipwreck the largest cruise liner in the world. A man like Kaz can do so much better.
Chapter 27
You’re part of my world now
Kazimir
The chauffeured car pulls in front of The Fifth rooftop bar on 5th Avenue, located a few blocks from the Empire State Building.
I tap the chauffeur’s shoulder. “I’ll open the door for the lady.”
“Very well, sir.”
I step out, straighten my jacket, close the door before circling the back of the vehicle to Harley’s side to help her out.
She emerges from the car wide-eyed. “Wow.” Her gaze lifts, taking in the building with the preserved historical facade.
I close the door to the car and tap on the hood.
The chauffeur waves and drives off.
“I’ve heard of The Fifth, but never imagined I’d step inside this iconic building,” Harley says.
“Aren’t you glad I asked you to be my fake girlfriend? I helped you cross something off your bucket list. You’re welcome.”
She laughs. “Having you as my fake boyfriend has its perks, such as having the appropriate wardrobe for such a momentous occasion.”
I give her a onceover. “That dress was designed with you in mind.”
“Thank you.” The smile that blooms on her lips is as spectacular as a bouquet of peonies in spring.
She bats her eyelashes in a coquettish way at me.
She’s all sunshine again.
Harley’s chat with her best friend didn’t lift her mood from last night. She was still closed off. Since I’d promised Grazie Mille’s owner I’d drop by the restaurant after yesterday’s scare to make sure the brunch service would go smoothly, I was sitting in the back of a taxi by nine a.m., heading to Manhattan. Even if I had stayed home, I doubt Harley would’ve opened up. I hired a chauffeured car to pick her up and drive her to Grazie Mille. When I slipped into the back seat, my heart stopped for several beats before kicking back to life.
Dressed in white, she’s an angel.
Draped in red, she’s a femme fatale.
“Like last night’s dress––and everything else you bought me from Saks––it’s beautiful.” She brushes her blonde hair curled in loose waves off her shoulders. “Since I’m not tall, I always worried midi dresses would dwarf me, but Judith assured me it was all about the cut. She promised an A-line would elongate my body. She was right. This red lace dress with appliqué does exactly that.”
The scarlet color makes her hair and eyes pop.
