Page 24 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

He shakes his head.

“Mymom?”

“Jules, we all know that your mother won’t knowingly let the cat out of the bag. But her friends will no doubt find out you’re engaged and congratulate her. She’ll feel awkward or just not as excited as they’ll expect, and then doubt and suspicion will follow. Lies, deceit, revealing secrets. It’s a line of dominoes that only requires a touch of a finger to fall.”

I can’t argue with anything he’s saying, but the thought of lying to my mom fills me up to my neck with molasses.

“Does shehaveto know? Maybe I can just skirt over the entire thing?”

“Are you close with your mother?” Leo asks. I’ve never seen him so serious. He’s like a shark—all cold and dead inthe eyes. I guess that’s how the rich get rich—they see the endgame and are laser-focused on the kill.

“Yes, I’m close with my mom.”

“You wouldn’t forget to tell her if you’d met the love of your life and you were getting married, then?”

I sigh. “No, but?—”

“This needs to be authentic. I appreciate that it’s an unusual request. If anyone were to find out that this was an arranged engagement… I have no wish to be the subject of ridicule.”

I don’t know if it’s the Brit in him, but he has these oddly Bridgertonian turns of phrase, and I’m one hundred percent here for it. It’s adorable. I realize I’m smiling and wince. I’m not supposed to be finding any part of Leo Hart adorable. These little language quirks are strange and old-fashioned and probably mean he can’t fuck. But he has BDE, that’s for damn sure.

“I get it,” I say. My mom won’t like that I lied to her, but I hope she understands when I’m able to explain everything eventually.IfI’m ever able to explain everything. Maybe I should take a second pass over this NDA.

“I want to go through what I’ll need from you in terms of the engagement,” he says.

Beyond wearing a ring and looking like I’m in love with him the night of the awards, I don’t see how there’s much to discuss.

“I want to do a formal announcement.” He sounds awkward as he says it, like he’s conflicted.

“What kind of formal announcement?”

“A notice inThe Times.”

My eye widen in shock. “The New York Times?” I ask.

He fixes me with a stare. “No, theEl Dorado Times. Wewant to make sure the good people of Kansas know we’re making it official.”

I can’t help it—I laugh. I’ve never gotten to see this side of him before. At least, not at the office.

“So you want to announce inThe Timesthat we’re getting married. And we barely know each other.”

“If I were actually getting married, I’d make an announcement. It will be suspicious if I don’t.”

“Why would you, though?” I ask.

He goes to speak and then stops himself. His silence isn’t aggressive, just contemplative.

“Maybe because I’d want to shout from the rooftops that I was in love. Maybe I’d just want the attention and free publicity.”

I laugh again, and he raises his eyebrows in a silent gesture that says,I know this is ridiculous. And if he does, why is he so set on having a pretend girlfriend? Not a girlfriend, but a fiancée.

“You’ve thought this through, and this is definitely the route you want to take?” I ask.

“Are you getting cold feet?” he asks. “I haven’t even bought the ring.”

A sonorous chime rings deep in my belly and I try my best to push it away. I know it’s not wedding bells. Maybe they’re the bells of doom?

“L. O. L,” I reply sarcastically. “I’ve agreed to be your fiancée. I just want to make sure you’ve explored all your options. You haven’t really explained why it’s so important to you.”

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