“So... when we return to the office tomorrow, you need me to look like I’m in love?”
“Exactly.”
“Be real, Griffin. No one is going to believe that you married me after knowing me for four days. That's insane. A lawyer is a respectable position. People aren’t going to think you're stable if you marry the temp you just met; they’re going to see you as impulsive and reckless.”
“I’m going to tell the office that I fell desperately, hopelessly in love,” he says with a straight face. “I’ll say I wanted us to live without shame. That I couldn't wait another day.”
“And if I say ‘no’?”
“Who turns down an offer like this? It’s a three-year commitment. Less time than law school. Besides, don’t you want to write home and tell your family you’ve found a rich, successful husband? It’s the ultimate ‘I told you so’ to your ex.”
Ah, he has a point. It would be weird, but also a little delightful to stick it to Landon.
“I’m probably going to regret this,” I say as the waiter returns with the next course.
“You might,” Griffin says, his voice dipping low, “but it will be worth it in the end.”
“Are you ready for your next course?” the waiter asks, oblivious to the negotiation happening. “Chef presents leg of lamb with mint confit, currants, baby peas, and crème fraîche. This course signifies the sacrifice of love. Love is rich as cream, youthful and innocent as the lamb, and as weathered and tested as the currant. The mint symbolizes the freshness of each day anew.”
He leaves us to share the tiny leg of meat.
“Wow, are we bugged?” I whisper, leaning in. “Someone must be listening to our conversation.”
“Chef Ahmed is a genius; he reads the room. I’m nearly twice your age,” Griffin says with a seductive grin, “so the whole ‘freshness and weathered’ thing is pretty spot on.”
He laughs, and I want to laugh too, but I’m too freaked out to do anything other than stare at him.
“Is the age gap a problem?” he asks, noticing my hesitation. “I mean, this crazy thing is my idea.”
Would I be disappointed if he pulled the plug now?
“No. I’m fine with your age and mine.” His face softens. It looks almost... loving?
I take a moment to really look at him. He is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Salt and pepper hair, strong jaw, haunting eyes, dashing smile—when he chooses to use it.
“I’m fine as well. So what happens now?” I feel numb.
“This,” he says.
He stands up. My heart races.
Why? I know this is all a game, just a cover, but butterflies dance in my stomach anyway. I remember when Landon got down on one knee. We were in a cornfield. He said I was the only one who held his heart.
What a load of bullshit that was.
For a second, I want to back out. But fifteen million dollars...
Could I live a whole lifetime on it? Maybe. Is three years of pretending worth a lifetime of freedom?
Griffin fishes in his pocket and pulls out a blue box.
“You don’t have to get down on one knee,” I tell him quietly.
“I don’t plan to,” he says.
Instead of dipping to the ground, Griffin grabs the back of his chair, slips his shoes off, and steps onto it—right in the middle of the most exclusive restaurant in New York City.
“Selena, my dearest love...”
