Joanie’s eyes narrow. “That’s either very charming or weirdly random.”
“It was charming.” I can still hear his rough voice, like he wasn’t used to talking to people voluntarily. “We talked. Just for a few minutes, but it felt... easy. Natural. He wasn’t trying to impress me or hit on me. He didn’t know who I was. He was just there, being himself, and I liked who that was.”
“And then?”
“And then his sister showed up with a blind date ambush, and he panicked, and he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend.”
The silence stretches for three full seconds, then Joanie bursts into laughter. “I’m sorry. He asked you to what?”
“Pretend to be his girlfriend. Just for the moment. To get out of the setup.”
“And you said yes?”
“His face, Joanie.” I press my hands to my cheeks, remembering. “He looked like a very hot, trapped animal. I couldn’t say no.”
“Focus. What happened next?”
“His sister invited me to the Valentine’s Day charity gala at the Gilded Hart Hotel. As his date.”
Another silence. Longer this time.
“Wait.” Joanie leans so close to her camera that her face distorts. “You agreed to go to a gala? With a guy who only asked you to lie to his sister? You, Tessa Hart, who tells clients to ‘never settle for situationships’?”
“It’snota situationship.” I fidget with the pen on my desk. “It’ll be an adventure.”
“An adventure,” Joanie repeats, leaning back in her chair and clearly not believing I’m not invested in this. She’s right. “With a hot, grumpy stranger you met at a bar.”
“When you say it like that—”
“I’m saying it accurately.” But she’s grinning now. “Okay, I need details. Physical description. Full accounting. Leave nothing out.”
I lean back in my chair, letting myself remember. “Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair, a little messy, like he runs his hands through it too much. Dark eyes. Strong jaw with a five o’clock shadow. He looked like he could bench press my car.”
“I’m fanning myself.”
“He has this thing where he rubs the back of his neck when he’s uncomfortable.” I don’t know why that detail stuck with me, but it did. The way his whole body language screamedkeep away,while that one small gesture showed his vulnerability. “And his name’s Archie.”
“Just Archie? No last name?”
“I didn’t ask.” Because I was too busy noticing the way his hand swallowed mine when we shook and how the briefest touch sent an electric jolt through me, sending sparks from my heart downto my core. It took him a long time to release my hand, but I never wanted to let him go.
“You’re smiling,” Joanie observes.
I attempt to force my face into neutrality. “I’m not.”
“You absolutely are. You’re doing that thing where you try not to smile, and it makes you smile harder.” She sits back, looking satisfied. “Well. Maybe this is exactly what you need.”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you’re feeling disconnected from romance. Maybe living a little romance—even fake romance—will help you reconnect.” She shrugs. “At the very least, it’ll give you content. ‘I Fake-Dated a Stranger for Valentine’s Day: What I Learned.’”
“I’m not turning this into content.”
“Yet.”
My phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at the screen, and a jolt of happiness surges through me.
Archie (Grumpy Stranger)
