Page 34 of The #FakeBoyfriend Bet

The conversation flows more naturally after that, Max seamlessly integrating himself into our discussion of industry trends and upcoming events. He asks intelligent questions, makes observations that show he's been paying closer attention to my world than I realized, and occasionally drops comments that make us both laugh despite the lingering tension between us.

I'm in the middle of explaining a recent campaign when I notice his attention shift, his expression becoming more alert.

"Three o'clock," he murmurs. "Woman in the blue dress with the man who looks like he's scanning for the nearest exit. They've been watching you for ten minutes."

I glance casually in that direction and my pulse quickens. "Victoria Ellis, CEO of Luminous Beauty, and her husband." I turn back to Max, lowering my voice. "This is it. The big moment."

Without missing a beat, he slides his arm around my waist, pulling me close enough that I can feel the solid warmth of him against my side. "Then let's give them something to see, shall we?"

Before I can respond, Victoria and her husband are approaching, polished smiles in place.

"Lena Carter," Victoria extends her hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting you in person."

"The pleasure is mine," I respond warmly, shifting effortlessly into networking mode. "Victoria, this is my boyfriend, Max Donovan."

Max's handshake is confident, his smile genuine. "Big fan of your midnight recovery serum," he says, surprising both Victoria and me. "Lena introduced me to it after a particularly brutal shift behind the bar. Game changer."

Victoria looks delighted. "You use our products?"

"Under protest at first," he admits with a rueful smile. "But Lena can be very persuasive when she believes in something."

The compliment lands with perfect sincerity, warming me from the inside out despite knowing it's part of the performance. Victoria's husband, John, seems equally charmed, quickly engaging Max in conversation about craft spirits and local distilleries while Victoria turns to me.

"He's not what I expected," she confides, watching Max with approval. "After that awful video Cameron posted, I thought you might go for someone more…controlled."

"Max is refreshingly genuine," I reply, the truth of the statement resonating more than I care to admit. "What you see is what you get."

Victoria nods thoughtfully. "That's exactly the quality we're looking for in our new campaign ambassadors. Authenticity is everything in today's market."

The irony of discussing authenticity while engaged in an elaborate fake relationship isn't lost on me, but I maintain my professional smile. "I couldn't agree more."

The conversation shifts to the campaign details—the concept, the photoshoots, the social media rollout. Throughout it all, Max remains by my side, his hand occasionally finding the small of my back, his attention focused on me whenever I speak as if whatever I'm saying is the most fascinating thing he's ever heard.

It's a masterful performance, one that has Victoria practically glowing with approval by the time the dinner bell chimes, signaling guests to find their seats.

"We'll continue this discussion soon," Victoria promises as we prepare to part ways. "I think you and Max would be perfect for what we have in mind."

Once they're out of earshot, I turn to Max, unable to contain my excitement. "That was perfect! She's completely sold on us."

For a moment, his guard drops, a genuine smile lighting his features. "We make a good team when we're not trying to kill each other."

"We do," I agree, feeling something loosen in my chest. "Max, about Sunday?—"

"Later," he says, but his tone is gentler now. "Let's just enjoy the win for a minute."

Dinner passes in a blur of exquisite food and strategic conversation with our tablemates. Max plays the attentive boyfriend flawlessly, refilling my water glass before I can ask, offering me bites from his plate, laughing at all the right moments. By the time the dancing begins, the earlier tension has faded, replaced by a tentative truce.

The band strikes up a lively number, and couples begin filling the dance floor. Max glances at me, one eyebrow raised in silent question.

"I'm not much of a dancer," I admit.

"Liar," he counters with a hint of his usual teasing. "I've seen your TikTok dance challenges."

"That's different. That's choreographed. This is..." I gesture vaguely at the dance floor.

"Freestyle? Spontaneous? Fun?" He stands, offering his hand. "Come on, Carter. Live a little."

Maybe it's the champagne. Maybe it's the success with Victoria. Maybe it's just the way he looks in that tux, all dangerous charm and hidden depths. Whatever the reason, I find myself placing my hand in his, allowing him to lead me to the dance floor.

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