NASH: Be there in 10.Wait for me.
A thrill raced up my spine after I read his words, so I read them a few more times.He left no room for argument, not that I planned to argue with my soon-to-be convenient fiancé.Or was he just my convenient boyfriend right now?Surely he wouldn’t get down on one knee and ask for my hand in convenient marriage.That’s essentially what the contract just achieved.But still—shouldn’t we have a formal moment where we transitioned from convenient boyfriend and girlfriend to conveniently engaged?
You have too many questions already, and the ink is barely dry on this thing.Just go with the flow.
Since I’d already been in this place of business for over a half hour, mostly stowing away in the bathroom, I headed to the front counter to order something while I waited for Nash.My body buzzed with excitement.I didn’t care what temperature it was outside or that it was April; it was never too cold out for an iced coffee.I barely had the drink in my hand, easing onto a barstool along a high table against the front window, when a car outside caught my eye.It was the same sleek, expensive SUV from outside Elite Catering.It pulled up to the curb, and the four-ways began flashing.I stiffened, every inch of my skin lighting up with awareness.
The car commanded attention.I wasn’t savvy enough about cars to know why it stood out, other than it probably cost more than my entire life.The back door swung open.Polished alligator shoes were the first thing I saw, followed by a man straightening his broad shoulders in the midday flow of pedestrians, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored, charcoal gray suit.
Nash Freaking Nightingale.My body went hot and then buzzy.I was supposed to be this hunk’swife?I could barely pass as his housekeeper, yet somehow he wanted to presentmeto the world as his one true love.
It didn’t make sense, but then again, it didn’t have to.I’d signed the contract, and now Nash Nightingale was walking toward the coffee shop like he was about to buy up the entire block.It wasn’t until he pulled open the door and stepped inside that I remembered to shut my mouth and begin playing the part.
I was supposed to be the one Nash chose, and I needed to act like it.
Tipping my head, I waited for him to notice me.I felt sly, mischievous, nearly bursting with anticipation as he scanned the coffee shop.Looking forme.
When he found me, I could feel it.His attention sizzled, nearly breaking skin.His perfect lips formed a smirk, and I barely caught the way his brow lifted as he walked toward me.
“Hey there,” I purred.
He leaned an elbow against the high table, his gaze raking over me.“Hey, Clara.”
“You can call meButtons,” I corrected him.
That sexy smile grew wider, and as the manly scent of his cologne settled around us, I remembered in a flash exactly what it had been like the first night we’d met.
“Do I want to know the origin story of that name?”His voice was a sexy rumble, somewhere between calculating and bored.
“Sit down and stay awhile, and maybe I’ll tell you.”I tipped my head to the empty stool near him.
“I came for a reason,” he explained, reaching into the interior pocket of his suit coat.His gaze fell to the drink in front of me.“Are you drinking an iced coffee in April?”
I shrugged, taking a noisy sip.“There’s no law against it.Do you want one?I won’t tell anyone if you do.”
“No.Thank you.I’ve already had my fill of caffeine for the day.”He pulled out something small and black.He set it on the table and pushed it toward me with one finger.“This is yours.”
I blinked down at it, trying to understand what I was seeing.It was a featureless business card of sorts.I picked it up, the immense weight of it confusing me further.
“Is this because I signed—”
“It’s my credit card.”He looked a little amused, his intense blue gaze stuck on me as I turned the thing over in my hands.“Is this your first time seeing one?”
I snorted, shooting him a look, though I relished the dry sarcasm.“Why is it so heavy?”
“That’s just how it comes,” he said.“It’s made of metal.”
“Mine are made of plastic,” I shot back.“Maybe yours is so heavy to reflect the infinite credit limit.Is that why?”
“Well, the limit’s not infinite, but it should be more than enough for what you need.”
Our gazes met, and I saw something expectant in his gaze.
“My babysitter doesn’t accept cards,” I told him, pushing it back toward him.“I appreciate it though.”
Nash cleared his throat, reaching into his coat pocket again.This time, he pulled out a thick leather wallet.He opened it, pulled out several hundred dollars bills, and then tucked them under the credit card.
“Yours.”He pushed it toward me again.“Keep the card.”
