I don’t know what to do with the idea that he’d heard me and cared enough to remember. It makes him harder to dismiss as just my arrogant boss making a business proposition.
“Okay,” I say finally. “Second question. If I agree to this, what exactly are the terms?”
“I already told you, public appearances as needed, dinners, charity events, anywhere the press might be present.”
“How often?”
“Two to three times a week. Maybe more during critical periods and less when things stabilize.”
“And physically?”
His mouth curves slightly. “I’m not asking you to sleep with me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m asking what you expect. Hand holding? Kissing? What counts as necessary for appearances?”
“Whatever makes us believable as a couple. Hand holding, yes, standing close, perhaps an arm around your waist, and kissing on the cheek for photographers.”
“Nothing more.”
“Nothing you’re not comfortable with.”
I cross my arms. “I want that in writing.”
“Done.”
“And I keep my job. This arrangement doesn’t affect my position here.”
“Agreed. Though you’ll need to move some things to my place.”
That stops me cold. “Excuse me?”
“For appearances. If we’re dating, you’d spend weekends at my apartment, which means you’ll need to have clothes and stuff there. Enough that it looks real if anyone asks.”
My pulse kicks up. “I’m not moving in with you.”
“I’m not asking you to. Not fully.”
“We’re supposed to be keeping this professional.”
“We are. You’ll have your own room, your own space. I’m hardly ever home on weekends anyway.”
“Then why do I need to be there?”
“In case someone checks. We just need to be covered.”
I study him across the desk, looking for signs of the unstable man Cassidy described. However, I see no signs of the volatile billionaire who throws phones and berates staff; all I see is exhaustion poorly hidden.
“You’re not what she said you are,” I hear myself say.
His jaw tightens. “You don’t know that.”
“I’ve worked for you for two weeks. I’ve seen you under pressure. You’re strict, sometimes infuriating, but not erratic.”
“People can hide things.”
“Not that well, not all the time.” I move closer to the desk. “I’m not saying you’re perfect, but you’re anything but unstable. That article is garbage, designed to get at you.”
“Thank you,” he says.
