He glanced my way with concern written all over his face. “Of course.”
“Keith asked me out. Again.” I stared out the window at the snow-covered streets. “I said no, obviously. Told him it wasn’t appropriate.” I paused, trying to figure out how to phrase it. “He asked why it was appropriate for you to ‘play girlfriend’ with me but not appropriate for him to take me to dinner.”
I felt rather than saw Dane’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “How did you respond?”
“I grabbed my coffee and left. But he’s not wrong, is he? What we’re doing is kind of inappropriate. And the whole office knows about it. Everyone knows it’s fake, but they also see us leaving together, see the way we—” I stopped myself.
“The way we what?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
We sat in silence for a moment, stuck in traffic that was barely moving. The snow was making everything worse, and what should have been a twenty-minute drive was clearly going to take twice that long.
“Heidi came to me with another scheme today,” Dane said finally.
My stomach dropped. “What kind of scheme?”
“A longer commercial. More behind-the-scenes footage, showing the whole Cupid’s Arrow process. Our profiles, the matchmakers pairing us up, footage from dates—she wanted to make it more… extensive.”
“Oh.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “What did you say?”
“I told her absolutely not. That we had done enough, and if she wanted to pursue that concept, she’d need to reshoot with someone else. An actress or a model. Someone who isn’t you.”
I turned to look at him, surprised. And maybe a little insulted and hurt. “Why?”
He was quiet for a few seconds, focused on navigating the traffic. “Because you’re good at your job, Ina. Really good. And I don’t want things to be weird between us because of some marketing campaign. You’re the best assistant I’ve ever had, and I don’t want to lose that.” He paused, seeming to wrestle with something. “Outside of work, I’d like to see you from time to time. As friends. And I can’t do that if Heidi turns you into the face of Cupid’s Arrow.”
Friends.
The word should have made me feel better. Instead, it made something in my chest ache.
“You don’t think it’s already weird?” I asked quietly. “This whole situation?”
“Probably. But I’m hoping we can make it less weird by being honest about what it is. A business arrangement that happens to be pleasant. Sometimes.”
“Pleasant? Sometimes?!”
“I enjoy spending time with you,” he said simply, like it was a fact. Like he was pointing out the snow was white and the sky was sometimes blue. There was no emotion or inflection, just a simple statement. “The fake dates don’t feel fake to me. They feel like spending time with someone I actually like. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone who doesn’t expect me to be anyone other than who I am.”
The car pulled to a stop in front of my building, and we sat there in silence as the snow continued to fall outside.
“I like spending time with you too,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “When you finally loosen up.”
We were both looking straight ahead now and not at each other. The tension in the car was so thick I could barely breathe.
I didn’t want that kind of discomfort between us. Like he said, we worked well together. We got along very well. And if he wanted to be friends, I could do that. I felt like he needed a friend. “Do you have your skates with you?”
He turned to look at me, and the surprise in his eyes made my heart stutter. “In the trunk. Always keep them there during winter, just in case.”
“Of course you do.” I smiled despite the emotional whiplash of the last ten minutes. “Do you want to come up? I’ll grab mine and we can go skating.”
“Go now?”
I shrugged. “Unless you have a hot date.”
He smiled—actually smiled. “I was trying to keep you out of the cold, but if you think you’re up for it.”
I nodded. “I am. I’m good.”
