“I see.” Caution screamed at her. She didn’t want to get to know him, didn’t want to share personal things about herself, but if they were going to pull it off… “How long is this thing going to last? A few weeks? A month?”
He pulled out his phone with one hand and thumbed through his calendar. The fingers of his other hand, still resting on the back of the seat, drummed a steady beat.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
From across the table, Jo couldn’t make out what all the little squares said—the font was too small, and she didn’t want him to think she was interested—but if every block of color represented an appointment or event, the guy was busy.
He stopped at a big chunk of blue. “Five weeks. That should be long enough to get them off my back.”
Five weeks wasn’t that long if she only had to deal with him a few hours a week. By then she’d have a new job—fingers crossed—and a new place to live—toes crossed. She could replenish her savings and maybe have a little left over for a new mixer.
Now for the important part. “You said I’ll be paid per date.”
He nodded.
“How much?”
“I haven’t put a number to it yet.” He sat back, sprawled against the back of the booth. “What were you thinking?”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.” Actually, she’d thought of little else since they made plans to meet for lunch. “I thought you’d know all about the going rate for a—” She glanced at the little girl sitting at the counter with her dad. “—chaperone.”
A low chuckle lured Jo’s attention back to Avery, the sound pouring over her like warm whiskey, soothing yet intoxicating.
“Baby, I’ve never paid for the pleasure of a woman’s company.” One brow cocked, he lowered his voice. “But if you’d like to add that to our arrangement, I’m up for it.”
Literally?
Don’t look. Don’t look. Do. Not. Look.
It took all she had not to glance at his crotch. Instead, she lifted her chin. “In your dreams.”
“Several of them.” His words came with a smile that could singe the panties off a nun.
She shook her head to hide the shiver rolling over her entire body. And it was a good thing her sweatshirt hid the goosebumps skating along her skin. He’d been dreaming about her?
Don’t be an idiot. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you.“If you’re done being a dick…”
“For now.” His grin faded as he tilted his head, and a coil of jet-black hair dipped over dark chocolate eyes that narrowed. Long slender fingers, tapered to clean, perfectly manicured nails, began their four-count rhythm again. “Tell me what you need?”
She licked lips that had gone dry. “Ten thousand ought to do it.”
The drumming stopped. A frown creased his brow.
Too much?
No, her time was worth something. Plumbers charged four times what she’d earned per hour working for Giselle. Electricians more than that. Surely, pretending to date a playboy asshole for five weeks was worth at least that much.
Besides, Avery Preston was rich. He could afford it. “Look, I—”
“Done.”
Jo blinked. “Just like that?”
“Yeah, it seems reasonable, and now that that’s settled…” He sat forward so quickly she jumped. “We start tomorrow night.”
“That soon?” She thought she’d have time to get used to the idea, to mentally prepare.
“Yeah, I have to do this thing.”
