I stare at him, my mind racing through the implications. “Wait, what?L.A.?”
Eyes never leaving mine, he takes a sip of his coffee. “I need to head back for a few days next week for some meetings. You coming with me would be the perfect way to solidify the start of our new relationship. Not only in the public eye, but to the studio execs as well.”
My mouth drops open. “Are you out of yourmind? I can’t just drop everything and jet off to L.A. with you. I have clients. Appointments that have been booked out for months!”
“It would only be for three days. Friday through Sunday. Plenty of time for you to reschedule.”
Appetite suddenly gone, I set my sandwich down. “This is happening way too fast.”
“Look,” he says, leaning in. “The story’s already out there. People are talking. My agent is ecstatic, by the way. Says this is exactly the kind of publicity we need.”
“Oh good, so glad your agent approves,” I snark, rolling my eyes.
“Lizzy.” His voice softens as he reaches across the counter, his fingertips brushing over the top of my hand. “I know it sounds like a lot. But think about it. We’ll stay at my house. It’s completely safe. No way the paparazzi is gonna get to you. Please say you’re in this with me?”
I can literally feel my resolve crumbling as I look into hazel eyes full of bated hope.
“I’m not even close to forgiving you, you know.”
“I know,” he whispers. “Think of this as a chance for me to prove that I’ll never leave you without saying goodbye again.” His voice softens even further. “Maybe even get one of my best friends back?”
I blink at him as his words hit something raw inside me. The sincerity in his eyes makes my chest ache in a way I haven’t allowed myself to feel in years.
“What would I even do there?” I ask. My voice sounds small.
“Well,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “There’s this gallery opening Saturday night. The owner is a friend of mine. I talked him into checking out your Instagram, and he really wants to meet you.”
My heart skips a beat. “When did you do that?”
“After I barged in on your little concert last week.” His lips quirk up into a half-smile. “You’re talented, Iz. Always have been. He was impressed.”
In an attempt to hide the flutter of excitement, I take another bite of my sandwich. A gallery in L.A. showcasing my art could mean serious exposure.
The practical side of my brain is already calculating what this could mean for my career, while the emotional side is screaming at me to run as far away from Rowan Cole—and what I’m sure are empty promises—as I can.
“What about the NDA?” I ask, attempting to stall. “Don’t I need to sign it first?”
“My lawyer is drawing it up. I should have it by tomorrow. We can handle it before we leave.” He hesitates, watching me carefully. “So... is that a yes? Will you be my fake girlfriend for real?”
Every fiber of my being is telling me this is a slippery slope. I should say no. Three days in L.A. with Rowan? Just us? Alone in his house?
Thoughts of every little thing that could possibly happen being all alone with Rowan in his domain send tingling sensations up my spine.
“Don’t you have a movie to make?”
He shrugs. “I’m not needed for those scenes. This has all been scheduled out in advance.”
I swallow my bite of croissant, trying to ignore the way myheart races at the prospect of spending a weekend with him. “And if I say yes, we’d just be... faking it, right? Just for the cameras?”
“That’s the deal.” His voice is steady, but something flickers in his eyes that I can’t quite read. “But you should know. When I told you I wanted my best friend back, I meant it.”
Best friend.
Not his girlfriend.
Not his lover.
A pang of disappointment hits and I push it away.
