She sits frozen for a long moment. Finally, she clears her throat. “I, um, need to think about this.”
“Yes, think about all the advantages. Like free housing and utilities. It’s a six-star accommodation, if I may say so, and the beds are California king. Complimentary food.”
She merely looks at me. I maintain eye contact, willing her to nod and agree.
“Plus unfettered access to my body.”
Her cheeks flush instantly, her pupils darkening. Something sharp drifts across her face. Maybe vindictiveness.
“We’re healthy adults with needs. It isn’t like we haven’t done it before, and we were very compatible.”
“Right.” She nods slowly, but the hesitation is still there. “I mean—I guess that’s better than doing it behind each other’s backs.”
“Good God, no. I don’t do an open relationship or sneaking-around kind. When you’re mine, you’re exclusively mine.”
Her eyes flash. “And the same goes for you?”
“Obviously. I’d never ask you to do something I wouldn’t.” I lean forward a little. “Want to stamp me EXCLUSIVE?”
The tips of her mouth twitch as satisfaction gleams in her gaze. “I’ll have to custom-order one.”
I chuckle.
She runs the edge of her teeth over her lower lip as she considers. “Definitely no pregnancy. Condoms are mandatory.”
“Of course.”
“Good.” She exhales, long and steady. “Do we attend public events together? Like a couple? And get photographed? Do we tell everyone we’re dating?”
The rapid succession of questions makes me pause. Is she worried about being tied to me? After all, she had front-row seats to this morning’s spectacle. Thank God she wasn’t here to listen to Dad proudly say that he gave my name to the stripper.
If it were up to me, I’d take Max out, get photographed, let everyone know we’re together. Hell, I’d just rip off my shirt and pound my chest while shouting, “Mine!”
But… “It’s up to you. If you prefer to keep your privacy, I’ll do my utmost to protect it. If you don’t care, that’s fine, too. If you want us to be photographed together, again, that’s your choice. It’s your life, Max. You should have agency over it.”
She frowns. “Don’t you have any preference? It’s your life, too.”
“I’m happy to let things play out. If we happen to attend some fancy gala and get photographed, so be it.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “I’m not going to hide.”
“But if you’re fine with us keeping it super private, why bother with fake dating? It makes more sense to just not date at all.”
Something in her tone bothers me, although I can’t pinpoint it. I push my glasses up my nose. “The fake dating gets my family off my back so I can continue to maintain my life the way Ilike it. I don’t care who’s on Grandma’s list; I’m not marrying some destitute European aristocrat whose family needs half my fortune to put food on the table and a roof over their heads. We don’t have to take things public to achieve that. My parents like to flaunt themselves, but Grandmother doesn’t care. Neither do I.”
“What about at work?”
“What about it? Nothing changes. You’ll continue to work as my assistant, unless you want to take a break.”
“But people might talk.” She frowns, concern etched on her pretty face. “No matter how careful we are, we may not be able to hide the fact that we’re ‘dating.’”
“And what would they say?”
“That I am where I am because I’m sleeping with you? That I get promotions or raises for the same reason?”
“If anybody gossips—whether it’s about you or anybody else—regarding something like this, send them to my office, so they can say it to my face.”
“Right. Got it.” Max nods slowly. “But how are we going to manage work and our personal life? Won’t they bleed together? And, no offense, but I don’t want to be with my boss twenty-four seven.”
“Of course not. When we’re at home, you won’t be my assistant, just my girlfriend. And to make it clear if I’m speaking to you as boss or boyfriend, I’ll call you Max in boss mode, and…Freckles in boyfriend mode. Does that help?”
