Page 57 of Forty, Flirty & Fake-ly Yours

For once, I don't argue with her analysis.

16

CONTROL-Z MY HEART

Mountain Cabin,Outside Seattle, WA

ROSALIND

Nine days until Valentine's Day, and I'm trapped in a Range Rover with a man who looks like a wet dream come true in a cashmere sweater while Seattle's worst snowstorm in decades tries to bury us alive.

"You look tense,” Grayson observes as we navigate the winding mountain road. "Nervous about the cabin?"

"Nervous about your driving," I counter, though really I'm more distracted by the way his sweater hangs on his broad shoulders. "Though your AI probably has contingency plans for everything from avalanches to zombie apocalypses."

"CORA's protocols are very thorough," he agrees, then grins at my expression. "That was a joke, Rosalind."

"Did you just... attempt humor? Quick, someone check the statistical probability of that happening."

My phone buzzes. Olivia:Twin yogis still doing synchronized sun salutations in lobby. Dani fascinated. William baking granola. I’m starting to lose my patience with this crap

“Everything good?” Grayson asks as I type a response.

“Depends on your definition of good, since Dani's latest matches are currently showing off their... flexibility." I show him the photo Olivia just sent of two identical men performing what appears to be an advanced partner pose in our waiting room. "Apparently they're very into... alignment."

His laugh—deep and rumbling—fills the car's warm interior. "Your HR situations are definitely more interesting than mine."

"Says the man whose AI tried to assess the proper first date conversation topics."

“Only twice.” But he's still smiling as he navigates another snow-covered turn. "And it was very efficient."

"Of course it was." I definitely don't watch the way his forearms flex as he shifts gears. "Everything about you is efficient."

"Not everything," he murmurs, and suddenly the car feels very small.

Another text from Olivia distracts me:Good news - new client surge means we can cover everyone’s health insurance this month! Can cover Mia’s insulin for another six months. Bad news - yogis now teaching William chakra-aligned baking techniques.

The reminder of why we're doing this – fake dating, publicity, saving both our businesses – sobers me slightly. But then Grayson's hand brushes mine as he reaches for his coffee in the middle console, and my body forgets all about professional distance.

The cabin appears through the swirling snow like something from a holiday movie – all warm wood and stone, with huge windows and a wraparound porch currently decorated with icicles.

"Home sweet home," Grayson says as we park. "At least for the weekend."

"This is where you made that famous bachelor pact?" I ask, remembering Connor's stories.

"We were young and stupid." He grabs our bags from the trunk. "And possibly drunk on very expensive scotch."

"Ah yes, the natural habitat of the wild tech bro in his twenties."

"Says the woman who literally locked her best friends in a supply closet together."

"That was matchmaking! And it was all very professional."

"Of course it was."

The cabin's interior is exactly what you'd expect from three tech billionaires' weekend retreat – all clean lines and modern amenities barely disguised as rustic charm. Though someone (probably Connor) has added what appears to be a life-sized cardboard cutout of Captain Kirk to the living room.

"Don't ask," Grayson says, following my gaze. "Alex lost a bet."

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