Page 24 of Salty, Spiced, and a Little Bit Nice

“I changed my mind.”

“But there’s no way I can pretend to be madly in love with you.” He repressed a shudder.

“Think about it. You’re a savvy businessman. You’ll save some money, and since we’re old friends—”

“Do I have to keep reminding you that you don’t like me? You’ve been nothing but unfriendly from the moment I saw you yesterday.”

I pretended not to hear him. “—we won’t need to make up any backstories, or cover stories, or any other fibs. Less risk of accidentally saying the wrong thing and having her discover your elaborate lie.”

He studied me, the cogs clearly spinning inside his brain. “You do have a point.”

“You know I do. It’s the offer of a lifetime, Alec.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Still, it’s too good to pass up,” I said, using my sweetest, most coaxing tone. “Didn’t you say Audrey costs a lot?”

“She does. I could utilize the funds better elsewhere, especially with the expansion we’re planning after the Goodwin investment.” He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful. “And all I have to do is find someone to help you with your shop repairs?”

“Find me someone who could starttomorrow. I don’t care if you do it yourself, or someone else, just as long as they’re reliable, affordable, and they can get the job done ASAP.”

After a long pause, he nodded. “Okay.” He offered his hand, and my stomach fluttered as his palms gripped mine. “But we’ll need to sit down, work out a detailed plan, then go over it repeatedly until you can recite it in your sleep.”

I grinned at him. “Consider it done. Trust me, we’re going to do great.”

“We better.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts. “Looks like I have to tell my pretend girlfriend we’re no longer dating.”

CHAPTER 7Nobody Checks Their Emails at Midnight

Loud, insistent knocks jolted me awake the next morning, followed by Alec bellowing from the other side of my door. “Wake up, Ellie! We’re leaving in thirty.”

Groaning, I groped for my phone, my eyes popping wide when I saw the time. “Somebody better be dead,” I muttered.

Another loud, impatient rap. “Come on. Burning daylight here.”

Jumping off the bed, I flung the door open and glared at him. “What daylight?It’s five in the morning!”

His eyebrows, already furrowed, climbed upward. “Yikes.” His gaze traveled down my length. “And you complained aboutmenot wearing a shirt?”

My cheeks heated when I belatedly realized that I was in my old, ratty Hello Kitty pajamas. It was my oldest, most comfortable sleepwear, with fading pictures on the thinning white top and pink pants, andprobablymost definitelyinappropriate for public view. It wasn’t the same as him being shirtless, but fromwhere he was standing, he could probably see what was underneath. And as if on cue, my uncooperative yet friendly nipples had apparently decided that it was time to join the party and introduce themselves.

I crossed my arms in front of my chest and glared at him. “This had better be a life-and-death situation.”

“We’re meeting my contractor in an hour.” He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes lazily wandering back up to my face. “Sent you an email about it last night.”

“Didn’t get it.”

“Did you check your email?”

“I did, before I went to bed. Nothing from you.”

“Check again.”

I marched over to the bedside table and snatched my phone. Sure enough, the last item in my inbox came from him, sent just five hours ago.

“Who, in their right mind, sends an email about an appointment, at two minutes past midnight, to someone living in the same house?” I waved my phone, repressing the urge to hit him on the head with it. “Why didn’t you just knock? Slip a note under the door? Or use this nifty little platform called WhatsApp?Who the hell checks their freaking emails at midnight?”

“Any budding entrepreneur who wants to succeed. Breakfast is ready downstairs.”

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