Page 25 of The Player + The Pact = I Do

“And I won’t. Is that a problem for you?” He sounds like one of those uptight, arrogant assholes fromBridgertonagain. One minute he’s all charm and jokes, and the next, he’s looking at me like he’s plotting my murder. “All youneed to know is that it’s important to me and I need for it to be believable. More than believable.”

“So, I can’t tell a soul it’s an arrangement. And you want to make an announcement.”

“Right.”

It’s more than I expected or wanted. And I think it’s more complicated than he’s considered. Engagements don’t happen out of the blue.

“And we’re not living together, never been seen out together, have no pictures on each other’s social media because…?” I’m not trying to be difficult, but for a clever dude, he hasn’t really thought this through.

He pulls in a breath and sighs resignedly. “You’re right. This is more complicated than I first thought.”

Shit, I don’t want him to go off the idea. If he decides he doesn’t want a fake fiancée, then he’s got no incentive to give me a shot at The Mayfair.

“It’s fine. I can deal with all that.”

“How?”

How indeed. “Well, you have various invitations in your inbox. Not only for business stuff, but social gatherings. Like the opening of The Vault—a new restaurant in SoHo. We could do that together.” I’m scrambling, digging myself a mammoth hole I’m not sure there’s a way out of. But I really want this job. “I’m sure there are some other events between now and the awards ceremony where we can make appearances.”

“I don’t have social media,” he says. “Other than my official Instagram, which is business focused.”

“So it makes sense I wouldn’t be on there.” I’ve seen that Insta page. There’s nothing personal on it.

“What aboutyoursocial media?” he asks.

“I don’t really post,” I reply. “Not regularly, anyway.But I could throw up a couple of pictures of us at these events we’ll go to.” My friends will want to know immediately who he is. “I’ll tell my friends you’re really private, so we’ve kept our relationship quiet. Totally believable.”

He narrows his eyes but doesn’t disagree.

“And then we’ll say we’re apartment hunting, and when we find something we both like, we’ll move in together,” I say.

“No,” he says. “That’s not going to work. Where do you live?”

“New Jersey.”

He laughs, and I want to deliver a short, sharp kick to his shin. New Jersey’s nothing to laugh about. It’s got good transport nearby and living there means Sophia and I can afford a place with two bathrooms.

“There’s no way you’d continue to commute if we were going to live together eventually. And also, we work in fucking real estate. If we were apartment hunting, everyone would know.”

I wince. He’s probably right. I start to say, “I’ll call your broker and go out on some viewings.”

But I don’t get the whole sentence out because at the same time, Leo says, “You’ll move into my apartment.”

NowIlaugh. When he doesn’t so much as smirk, I realize he’s serious.

“You want me to move? Like, out of my apartment and in with you?” There’s no way. I agreed to go to an awards dinner. This arrangement is spiraling.

“Temporarily,” he says. “Like you say, if we were really engaged, we’d be living together.”

“No way. There’s no need. We can say you’re old-fashioned?—”

“I’m not,” he cuts me off. “This has to bebelievable.”

He’s not wrong, but I didn’t agree to upend my entire life. “Who’s going to know? I’m going to be working at The Mayfair, so it’s not like we have to arrive to work together.”

“I don’t want there to be any chance of anyone discovering this isn’t real. You moving in is a deal breaker for me.”

Deal breaker? So it’s this or I don’t get my chance at managing The Mayfair? That doesn’t seem fair. But what choice do I have? “For how long?”

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