“I don’t mean it like that. I need a fake wife, and I’dlikeit to be you. If you’re interested.”
Unable to believe the audacity, I shake my head, lost for words.
“Come on, Erin, hear me out. Please?”
I stand back from the edge of the bar and rest my hands on my hips.
“What retreat? Where?”
He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a brochure, offering it to me. I take it with lightly shaking fingers.
“Upstate. It’s a luxury resort. Golf, yoga, spa treatments, high tech gym, Michelin-star restaurant.”
I stare at the pages, drawn in by glossy photographs of opulent bedrooms, sleek dining areas, high spec gyms and spa treatment rooms. This is the kind of place Gerard could have afforded to take us, but never did.
It does look like a spectacular place to stay, but… something isn’t adding up.
A lotisn’t adding up.
“Why don’t you have a wife?”
Well, that probably shouldn’t have been the first question to come out of my mouth, but there you go.
“Haven’t found one I liked.”
Okay then.
“Why me?”
“You seem like you’d be good at it.”
I stare at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. If I was so good at it, I’d still be living in a huge house in California, driving my large SUV to the local gym class and having tons of sex with a husband who adores me.
I decide to treat this with the amount of realism it deserves.
“Okay, okay, let’s say I do come along to this retreat as your wife, what would I have to do?”
He barely blinks. “Nothing. Just enjoy the retreat, accompany me to dinner, keep to the back story I give you. That’s it.”
“Well,” I snicker, “that’s the easiest wife job I ever heard of. Where do I sign up?”
He narrows his eyes, unimpressed. “No signature needed.”
I can’t believe he might actually be serious.
We stare at each other for a few moments, then I break.
“As lovely as this sounds, in theory, I’d be insane to accept such a ridiculous proposal.”
He sits back on the bar stool with a cocky grin.
“Ah, a negotiation…”
My brows leap up into my hairline. “Huh. I don’t know where you heard the word negotiation in all of that, but go ahead, give me your worst.”
“It could be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” he starts.
I look up again and sigh. This conversation isn’t rooted in reality and I’m done with it.
