“Thought so.”Nerissa grinned.
I shook my head, then nodded at her tablet.“You good for the noon appointment?”
“Yeah.He texted that he's gonna be late, but he’ll be here.”
“All good.I’m gonna take Savannah into the office.Buzz me when he gets here.”
“You got it.”
I guided Savannah down the short hall behind the front counter, into the office where I kept client files, art books, and my sketchpads stacked in messy piles.
She stepped inside and glanced around.“Nerissa seems…”
“Loud and dramatic?Yes, yes she is.”
She chuckled.“I was going to say expressive.”
“She’s one of the best people I know, but she's also a pain in the ass.”
Savannah smiled.“She seems like a good friend.”
“She is.”I went straight to the small conference-style table and pulled out a chair for her.“Let’s talk about these rules of yours.”
She ignored the gesture completely—of course she did—and walked around to the opposite side of the table, lowering herself into the seat with the kind of cool, practiced poise that should not have been as distracting as it was.
I bit back a laugh and dropped into my own chair.As I leaned forward, my forearms pressed against the table, muscles tightening under my skin.Her eyes dipped—just for a second.A flicker.A breath.
But I saw it.
She snapped her gaze back to my face so fast she practically left skid marks.
I hid my smirk behind a slow exhale.
“So,” she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a slim leather folder.“I drew up a contract.”
I stared at the folder.
Then at her.
“You seriously drew up a contract?”
She looked at me like I just asked her to turn blue—like I was the delusional one.“Of course I did.”
A disbelieving chuckle broke through.
“Savannah—”
She opened the folder with surgical precision.“We’re establishing a temporary arrangement with public visibility and emotional manipulation implications.A written agreement ensures no misunderstandings.”
“You can't be serious.It's three weeks of fake dating.”
“Are we going to talk about the rules or are you going to continue interrupting?”
I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms behind my head.Her eyes didn’t drop this time, but the way her jaw tightened made me know she was actively trying not to look down.A slow smile spread across my face.“I'm all ears.”
From the look on her face, I knew there was no way I could convince her that a three-week contract was insane.But the fire smoldering in her eyes—the one that flared every time I poked at her polished edges—made something dark and hungry curl in my gut.
That fire was a problem.
