“Only while Elizabeth is here.”
“Archie. That’s insane.”
“It’s strategic.” I’m warming to the idea now, the pieces clicking together in my head. “Think about it. Elizabeth sees me with a successful, put-together boyfriend, and she flies back to America, knowing there’s nothing for her to worry about. Everyone’s happy.”
“Everyone except Leo, who doesn’t know he’s about to be drafted into a fake relationship.”
“Leo will rise to the challenge. He always does.”
The more I think about it, the more perfect it seems.
It could kill two birds with one stone.
Reassure Elizabeth that I’m fine while taking this thing with Leo to another level. Another arena where I can exact revenge on him.
Although “revenge” doesn’t quite fit anymore, does it? Not since Leo started playing back. The rap battle. The way he told the kids that Captain Giggles does celebrity impressions. The glint in his eye every time he plots his next move.
He’s enjoying this. Maybe not the costumes themselves, but the game? He’s definitely enjoying the game.
And if we’re both having fun, then I’m not really punishing him. I’m just…raising the stakes. I mean, it’s been so easy to push him outside his comfort zone when he’s just my assistant. Imagine all the ways I can do that when he’s pretending to be myboyfriend. The possibilities are endless.
“You’re playing with fire,” Jaymee warns.
“Maybe.” I hand her back the guinea pig and reach for my crutches. “But I’ve always been good with matches.”
Chapter Nineteen
Leo
I’ve learned to recognize the signs of an incoming Archie scheme.
There’s a particular quality to his silence when he’s plotting. A brightness in his eyes that suggests neurons firing in patterns that will inevitably result in my humiliation. A slight curve to his mouth that says he’s already three moves ahead and enjoying the view.
He’s got all of those signs right now, sitting across from me at the kitchen island with a cup of coffee he hasn’t touched and an expression of studied innocence.
I should run.
Instead, I pour myself my own coffee and wait for the trap to spring.
“We need to talk,” Archie says.
Those words feel like the opening moves in a chess game.
“Why do I feel like I’m going to regret this conversation?”
“Probably because you’re an intelligent man with good instincts.” He smiles, all sunshine and hidden edges. “But hear me out anyway.”
“I’m listening.” I take a sip of coffee because I’m fairly sure I’m going to need caffeine in my system for whatever’s coming.
“I need you to be my boyfriend.”
I inhale approximately forty percent of my coffee. The remaining sixty percent ends up distributed across my chin, my shirt, and I suspect a small amount lands on Archie’s cast.
He watches my respiratory crisis with the serene patience of someone who’s achieved exactly the reaction they were aiming for.
“I need clarification,” I say, once I’ve stopped attempting to drown on dry land. “When you say boyfriend, do you mean actual boyfriend, or is this another situation where I end up in a costume?”
“I mean, if you want costumes to be involved, I’m sure we can arrange something.” Archie’s eyes glint with mischief. “I do have an extensive collection. Some of them are even designed for two people.”
