I lower my eyes, not wanting to acknowledge his statement bears a hint of truth. Two days ago, I never would have expected to be sitting here with him in this restaurant while Trevor looms a few tables away. Now I’ve barely thought of Trevor, all my focus on Julian. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be.
“Have I answered all your questions?” Julian asks when I remain silent. “Is there anything else you need to know before you agree to my proposal?”
Lifting my head, I do my best to appear collected, as if he hadn’t weaseled his way under my skin throughout the evening by simply being honest and upfront with me. It’s more than I can say for Trevor as of late.
“If I agree, I don’t want you to think it’s an open invitation to make out with me whenever it suits you.
“I’ll be escorting you to fundraisers, charity dinners, galas, things like that. Not to a sex club.”
“Well, that’s a shame. I’ll need to return my flogger and ball gag.”
After momentarily scrutinizing me, Julian breaks into a hearty laugh, attracting the attention of a few of our fellow diners, Trevor included. There’s a hint of jealousy mixed with longing in his gaze. It makes me feel somewhat vindicated. A frazzled aura surrounds him, like he’s having trouble focusing on whatever Theresa’s saying because I’m sitting a few tables away with a very handsome, successful man. Then, not paying attention, he knocks his wine glass over, the red liquid spilling all over Theresa’s white blouse. Waiters rush to help clean up the mess, but the damage is already done.
I turn my eyes back to Julian, struggling to reel in my smile. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.
“In all seriousness, I promise not to do anything you’re uncomfortable with.”
“Even if I say no kissing?”
He blinks repeatedly, taken aback. “No kissing?”
“Yes. At least on the mouth. I’m agreeable to a kiss on the cheek or forehead, but I’d rather we draw the line there.”
He recovers his composure. “Any reason for that?”
“It’s too…personal.” I fidget with my napkin in my lap, the soft texture comforting. “It seems I’m not built like you. I do get attached to people. As long as we have the line drawn at no kissing, I won’t forget what this is…a business arrangement.”
“Okay.” He nods curtly after a moment of contemplation. “You have my word. No kissing on the lips.”
“Really?” I cock my head.
“You sound surprised. Why wouldn’t I agree?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Won’t people think there’s something amiss if they don’t see us kiss?”
“Trust me, Guinevere.” His voice is smooth and confident. “There are other ways to demonstrate your desire. Kissing is the easy way out. There’s nothing suggestive about one mouth pressing against the other. No. Desire is in the way your bodies find each other, the way your eyes darken with unmatched hunger, the way a shiver runs through you at the promise of what’s to come.”
I swallow hard, doing my best to make it appear as if I’m not slowly losing my composure at his sensual words, to pretend I don’t already react that way whenever I’m in his presence. “Says the man who avoids committed relationships.”
“I never said I was perfect.” He dabs his napkin against his mouth, making me incredibly jealous of a piece of fabric. “So no sex, no kissing. What are your other conditions?”
“Right.” I square my shoulders. “An itinerary.”
“An itinerary?”
“Yes. I don’t like the unexpected. I’ve been a bit of a planner my entire life. Hell, I’d already planned my wedding to Trevor before we even met.” I laugh under my breath. “I tweaked a few things once we did meet, but that’s beside the point.” I return my gaze to Julian. “I like having a plan, knowing what’s expected of me so I can anticipate…things.”
“Things?”
“Yes. I’d like to know precisely the type of event and when I’ll be required to be…at your service.”
“You’ll never be ‘at my service’, Guinevere,” he responds quickly. “But if a list of events makes you less on edge, I’m happy to provide one. I understand your job is important to you, so I’ll limit the events to weekends and holidays. I just ask you set aside Fridays through Sundays.”
“We have our weekly staff meeting Friday mornings.”
“Then you’ll leave right after. Is that agreeable?”
“Yes. That’s fine. Viv is flexible with us working out of the office.”
“Any other conditions?”
I chew on my lower lip, recalling the list I’d come up with earlier in the evening. “A firm end date.”
He nods. “No sense dragging this out longer than necessary. Come Labor Day, you’re free to return to your normal life. Anything else?”
“No.” Those were my non-negotiable conditions. I thought he’d put up more of a fight over no sex or kissing. I guess I was wrong.
“Okay then. Agreed on all points. Now I have a few conditions of my own.”
“Such as?”
“First, you’ll be staying in my beach house with me.” He leans closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t worry. You’ll have your own room and space. Anytime we’re not scheduled to be somewhere, you can do whatever you’d like. You won’t need to spend extra time with me. You can sit by the pool, go to the beach, whatever you like. Your free time is just that…yours.”
“And your other conditions?”
“It’s more of a…request.”
I arch a brow. “And that is?”
“I’d appreciate your word that you’ll commit to me for the duration of the summer and not end this arrangement early. I need a woman by my side for all the social events that fill the summer season in the Hamptons. So in the event Trevor has a change of heart and wants you back, I’d request you hold him off until the end of summer. After that, we walk away and never have to see each other again. By then, I’m hoping this project will be underway. I’ll make up a story about how you’re still in love with your ex, which isn’t a stretch, and we’ll go our separate ways.
“So… What’ll it be, Guinevere? Will you be my fake girlfriend?”
I stare into space, considering his proposition. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Trevor. Instead of the frantic energy that surrounded him before, he’s calm, he and Theresa seeming to laugh off the mishap. He brings her hand up to his mouth, peppering soft kisses against it. I don’t remember the last time he looked at me that way.
Resolute, I return my attention to Julian. What do I have to lose? Trevor’s already moved on. Why should I torture myself by waiting for him to come to his senses? After twelve years, maybe I deserve to have some fun myself. A summer in the Hamptons at what I can only imagine to be a luxurious beach house may be exactly what the doctor ordered to mend my broken heart. What could possibly go wrong?
“Yes, Julian. I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Do I want to know whether tonight was just a coincidence?” I ask once we’re in the back seat of the town car and on the way to Chloe’s apartment.
“Whatever do you mean, Guinevere?” Julian flashes a conniving smile.
I blow out a breath, crossing my arms. “You know exactly what I mean, Julian. Trevor showing up at the same restaurant we happened to be dining at is a bit suspicious, wouldn’t you agree?”
“New York’s not as big as people think.”
Not saying a word, I narrow my gaze at him like my mother always did when she knew I was being purposely evasive.
“And what would you say if I did plan it?”
“First, I’d say you have impeccable stalker abilities. Perhaps that’s your true calling.”
He curves his body toward me, grinning deviously. “Who said it’s not? You did figure out I have a secret kill room in Jersey City. You don’t lure people to a kill room without properly doing your research…or, as you referred to it, stalking.” He winks before leaning back against the seat.
“That’s right. How could I forget about the kill room? Okay then, Dexter…”
He laughs at my nickname for him, a twinkle visible in his eyes, even in the darkened car.