Page 14 of All of You

“That sounds ominous, I must say.”

“It’s not horrible.” She faltered then, her gaze flickering around the room, then back to me. “Not too horrible, anyway.”

“I think maybe you should just tell me what’s going on.” If she kept toeing around it, whatever it was, she’d drive me insane.

She was this tiny person, and she filled my entire apartment. I had no chance of being completely clear-headed with her near.

She took a steadying breath and released the air slowly on a count of five. I recognized the pacing of her exhale because I’d been taught the same method for calming down after a panic attack. Had she also dealt with them?

“I’m wondering if you’d be my boyfriend,” she said on a rush.

My back hit the cushion behind me. “Uh?—”

“Not really, though. Just… pretend to be,” she added quickly.

I watched her face, waiting for her to crack a smile or laugh or something, but nothing. She ran a hand over her hat and let it slide over the length of her ponytail. She was completely serious.

“Um…”

The blank space that filled my mind was somehow loud. Could she be serious? Had she somehow realized just how magnetic I found her and decided to taunt me? She couldn’t be that cruel.

“That sounds strange. I know. And I get it. You’re thinking this woman is crazy, or that I’m trying to trick you into actually dating me, or something else totally weird. But that’s not it. And I don’t know how to tell you this without it sounding like I’m using you, because that’s what this is—entirely and completely me using you to make me look better.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t turn away, didn’t curl into herself. She met my eyes head on, no faltering.

“I’m not sure how me dating you makes you look good.” It was all I could think to say, then took another drink of water as she explained.

“The drama with Jamie makes me look bad. I can’t tell you the deal there other than to say I did not, nor would I, cheat on him or anyone. I want to work for John Smith Johnson, who you met at the event last weekend. He is extremely picky about who he works with, and he’ll flat out deny anyone with a whiff of controversy on them. Obviously enough, I’m having issues convincing him and his team to work with me.” She pulled out her phone, cleared the screen, and shoved it back into her pocket.

“He won’t work with you because the press accused you of cheating on Jamie Morris? Wasn’t that months ago?” I sat back and ran a hand along the back of the couch.

“Right there shows me you have a perspective most people don’t. If the press says it happened, it might have happened. And the possibility, the potential of being a woman with a reputation, is all that Johnson needs to point to the fact that I’m not up to snuff.” She clenched her jaw, then sipped her water.

“You think that by fake-dating me, that’ll change?”

This was ludicrous. Why wouldn’t Johnson want to work with her? The idea that a rumor would keep her from working with anyone she wanted to was insane.

“Nikki seems to think so, and I can understand why she’d say it. You’re a soldier, which is one of the most respected jobs in the US. It’s very sympathetic. You’re very handsome, and you’ve got that all-American Southern boy thing going for you, but you’ve also got this angelic, sweet quality that keeps you from being too forbiddingly attractive.”

She tossed this out like her saying I was handsome wasn’t a highlight of my month.

My eyebrows rose, and a small laugh escaped my mouth.

Whit Grantham thinks I’m pretty!

I bit my bottom lip and pressed my mouth together to lock down the all-too-pleased smile that threatened to blast her. She didn’t seem to notice the pleasure coursing in my body, because she kept ticking away the reasons how fake-dating me would help her.

“Me with you would show I’m not jaded, that I’m not out of touch with normal people, as though that makes any sense. And having a steady relationship is always better than being single in terms of making women look good.” She watched me, squinting a bit. “What are you thinking?”

I gave her a grin. “I’m… I have a lot of thoughts. I’m not sure how to verbalize them.”

Good grief, right out of a therapy session.

She chuckled and shook her head. “I get it. This is more than a little odd.”

“It is. I guess my biggest question is, why not actually date someone?” With my arms crossed over my chest, I leaned back to watch her.

Her eyebrows flashed up and down before she responded. “Sounds nice. But I’m no good at it, for one, and I haven’t met anyone I wanted to date in a long time.”

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