“Not if your pilot crashes your jet.”
Hunter laughed and hung up.
Gabi sat across from a stranger.
He wore a thin turtleneck sweater, something she wouldn’t think was attractive on a sale rack, but on Hunter, it demanded her attention.
They’d walked into the posh restaurant, one she’d never been in before, and they were escorted to a quiet table in the back.
The host knew Hunter by name and offered a gracious smile Gabi’s way.
She’d dreaded this dinner since he’d called the day before. Now they sat across from each other without words.
How this was going to work for eighteen months, she had no idea. “I’m not a very good actress,” she finally said.
“I’m not following you.”
“One of the qualities we search for with our female clients is their ability to pretend to be something they’re not.” She leaned forward and whispered, “Happily married.”
“Ahh.”
“Men seem better at the task of pretending they love someone to get what they want.”
“That would be the secret class given in the locker room in tenth grade.”
Gabi found a slight smile on her lips. “I suppose we were given lessons on how to ward off unwanted hands at that time.”
“Lucky for some of us, not all of you girls took that lesson.”
“I’ll bet your list of conquests is long.”
He sat back, smug. “What about your list?”
That was comical. “You’re assuming I have one.”
“All right . . . let’s assume you don’t. Why not?”
She wasn’t expecting the question and had no way of answering it without revealing certain truths she wasn’t prepared to share with this man . . . now . . . perhaps ever. “That’s really none of your business.”
“You’ll learn that everything about you is now my business.”
“You’ll learn that a wife is not an employee you can boss around.”
She saw his jaw tighten, knew there was something he wanted to say that he held back.
“Talking with you is right up there with walking through a minefield without a bulletproof jacket,” he told her. “Is it so terrible that I’d like to know a little more about my wife than what I hear from my private investigator?”
“A private investigator? Why am I not surprised?”
“Because you’re a smart woman.”
She was about to reply when the waiter arrived and told them the specials. Hunter ordered a cocktail and Gabi ordered tea.
“Wouldn’t a glass of wine help you relax?” he asked.
“I’m a smart woman,” she told him. “Letting my guard down around you isn’t the intelligent move to make.”
“He must have done a number on you,” he said.
“This isn’t going to work,” she whispered under her breath and reached for her purse.
Hunter placed his hand over hers. “Please. Let’s start over. I’m really not that awful of a man.”
“You blackmailed me into marrying you.”
He pursed his lips, the motion almost comical. “Well . . . other than that. You didn’t really leave me a choice.”
What would be the point of running? They needed to move out of the kick each other stage, and Gabi needed to have a stiffer back whenever her past came up.
She lifted her hand away from his and set it in her lap. “One of the reasons these marriages work is the two clients actually like each other. We’ve established that isn’t us.”
“Speak for yourself,” he said.
“Oh, please.”
“You stood up to me, offered a laughable contract. I like a woman who takes chances.”
“Is that right?”
He smiled, the look not quite reaching his eyes. “Now it’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
He waved two fingers in his direction. “Something . . . anything you don’t despise about me.”
Was this a joke? “You’re serious?”
“One thing, Gabi.”
She thought about it, filed through a dozen things she hated and found one. “You have nice taste in flowers.”
Now his smile moved higher. When it reached his eyes he looked younger. And for the first time since they’d met, she found herself relaxing in his presence.
For the rest of the evening, they talked about their daily routines. She showed him a list of houses and spoke of the things she liked and didn’t like about each one.
He took in the information but didn’t offer much in the way of advice. He asked that she give him a few days to find something suitable. If he questioned why she wanted a new house, he didn’t ask her.
They ate their meal and finished with coffee.
“We’re going to have to announce our marriage soon,” he told her as he drove her back home.
“I’m going to call my family tomorrow.”
“Let me know when that’s done, and I’ll plan the next move.”
“What about your family . . . how are they going to take us?”