“You did what?” Now I’m the one leaning forward in my chair.
Oh, Jesus Christ, how are we ever going to fix this? As his assistant, I’m not in full panic mode.
“So, my parents think I’m married now. To that friend.”
“Leo ….” I sigh. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Now, I know what this sounds like, but it’ll only be for a while that you have to pretend to be my wife. Until things simmer down and I can explain it all.”
“Tell them you’re not. Let’s start telling the truth now before this gets out of hand.”
“Oh, no. Definitely not. My father has been pushing me for years to get married.”
“So? Who cares? Do they still wipe your ass after you took a shit?”
“No?” He laughs.
“Then why do you care what they think you have to do?”
“Because this is my father’s business, and he gave it to me explicitly stating I had to get married soon. As in, this year. Otherwise, they would basically kick me out of the family.”
“Oh …”
He clears his throat. “Yeah …”
I didn’t know it was that personal. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I can handle it.”
“But what about that friend? Can’t she explain it to them?”
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me,” he says. “Trust me on this.”
I have no clue why, but it must have something to do with the fact that he basically put her in the middle of this.
“Okay … so you want me to pretend I’m that friend.”
“They don’t know what she looks like, so it works perfectly.”
“Right …” I nod a few times, slamming my lips together. “You know how stupid this all sounds?”
“Totally, insanely stupid.”
“The biggest nonsense of all times.”
“That’s me.”
I want to wipe the smirk off his face.
“And you think I’m going to succeed at this how?”
“I’ll give you a list of things that’ll tell you all about me. What I like.” I can’t ignore the certain sparkle in his eyes. “You have to give me a list as well.”
“That’s absurd; you think I can get to know you through a list? And that you’d actually know me that easily?”
He cocks his head. “I think it’ll be easier than you think.”
I chuckle. “Well, that’ll take you a while then because my list is a long one.”
“You mean the things-you-hate-most list?” He lifts a brow.
“Oh, ha-ha. If I had such a list, you’d be at the top.”
“Good. I’m always at the top. And on top.” He licks his lip, biting his bottom one shortly. Somehow, that makes me squeeze my legs.
“Besides, I think I know more about you than you think … more than you probably know about me.” He winks.
“I doubt that,” I say.
“I know about your bathroom incident.”
“That wasn’t an incident, and it sure as hell wasn’t any of your business.”
“Ouch, Miss Webber. Retract those claws, they damage my reputation.” He smiles. “I’ll be gentle with your dirty secrets. You can trust me on this.”
“I doubt I can trust you with anything, let alone tell you my secrets.”
“Oh, I assure you, I’ll treat them with care, as with anything else that becomes mine .”
The way he says mine creates goosebumps all over my skin. Why is it that every time this man talks I get the feeling he’s trying to either dry-hump me with his words or make a fool out of me?
“Don’t think I’ll tell you anything that can damage my reputation,” I say. “If this is for a job, I’ll stick to professional details only. Things that matter.”
He grabs his pen again. “Anything matters if it involves you.” Placing his hand under his jaw, he leans on the desk, twirling his pen in the other hand. “I need to know everything there is to know about you.”
“As if they’d ask about personal stuff.”
“You have no clue how personal it can get when you’re near me. Or my family, for that matter.” He seems so very amused by all of this.
I pick up the list he placed on the table, desperate for some
Jeffrey M. Schwartz, Sharon Begley