"So." Nadia pulls her hand back and reaches for her whiskey, taking a sip that's more gulp than taste. "How does this work? Do we need a backstory? A meet cute we can tell people?"
"The truth works fine. We met at The Velvet Antler. Hit it off. Decided to spend the weekend together." I signal Silas for another round. "Simple is better. Fewer details to keep straight."
"And if someone asks how long we've been seeing each other?"
"We say it's new. Because it is."
She laughs, and the sound does something uncomfortable to my chest. "That's almost too honest for a fake relationship."
"I told you. I don't play games."
"No, you just proposition strangers in bars."
"First time for everything."
Silas appears with fresh drinks, and his knowing look tells me I'll be hearing about this later. He owns The Velvet Antler, and he's been trying to set me up with every available woman in a fifty mile radius since his own marriage made him insufferably smug about partnership.
"Callum." He sets down the glasses with exaggerated care. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"
"Silas McCrae, Nadia Smith. She's Yasmine's sister."
"The maid of honor." Silas extends his hand, and I watch Nadia shake it with the same firm grip she gave me. "I've heard a lot about you."
"None of it good, I'm sure."
"On the contrary. Tyler says you're the smartest person in your family and the only one who tells your sister the truth."
Nadia's eyebrows rise. "Tyler said that?"
"He's perceptive for a man who still can't figure out how to properly decant wine." Silas glances between us with barely concealed amusement. "Will you two be needing a table? Perhaps somewhere more private?"
"We're fine here." I give him a look that clearly communicates he should find somewhere else to be. "Thanks."
Silas retreats with a chuckle, and Nadia turns back to me with curiosity written across her features.
"He owns this place?"
"And the attached vineyard. He's also the local estate lawyer and one of the most connected people in Crimson Hollow." I take a sip of whiskey. "Which means by morning, everyone in town will know you exist."
"Is that a problem?"
"Only if you were hoping to stay anonymous."
She snorts. "Anonymous went out the window when my sister decided to have a Valentine's Day wedding in a town with one traffic light."
"Two traffic lights. They added one last year."
"Oh, well. Practically a metropolis then."
I find myself smiling, which is unusual. I don't smile much. My brothers would say I don't smile at all, but they're dramatic and prone to exaggeration. Still, there's something about the way Nadia delivers her sarcasm that makes it impossible not to respond.
"You don't like small towns."
"I don't know small towns." She shrugs. "I grew up in Detroit. Went to Northwestern for undergrad, stayed in Chicago for my MBA, built my career there. The closest I've come to rural living is when the L breaks down and I have to walk eight blocks."
"And now you're unemployed."
Her jaw tightens. "Thanks for the reminder."
