Page 17 of Hello Quarterback

When his footsteps faded away, I got out my phone and texted Zeke, rockets of shame launching down my spine.

Mia: Can you come back to pick me up?

I set my phone down and leaned against the bathroom counter, looking at myself in the mirror. Really looking.

I was in my late thirties, no real relationship to show for it. No engagements. No major breakups, not even a divorce under my belt. And for a long time, I’d been okay with it because like Ford said, I was willing make sacrifices to win what really mattered to me: my career.

I wanted to be a success no matter how many people thought I couldn’t be one. I’d done what it took, learning this company inside and out, getting my master’s degree online while working sixty-plus-hour weeks. I’d given up dates, shut down relationships in the early stages, even broke off an engagement, and truly committed to my work.

And now I had another choice.

The opportunity to “date” someone extremely well-liked within the company was here.

Could I sacrifice my pride enough to take it?

10

FORD

I came backto the bathroom and knocked softly on the door. “Mia?”

The doorknob jiggled in response, and I stepped back, seeing her come out of the bathroom. Thankfully, some of the color returned to her face. She glanced at the cup and plate in my hands. “You got me ginger ale and crackers?” She seemed surprised. And a little touched too, judging by the tender note in her voice.

At least it seemed like she was doing better than before, when her color quickly shifted from pale to green. “Of course. You looked like you really weren’t feeling well.”

“I’m okay now,” she said softly, looking up at me. Her blue eyes were clear, and this close to her, I could smell her perfume again.

“If the food didn’t set well, I can order something else,” I offered, stepping back. She brushed past me, her shoulder grazing my chest.

I felt like I’d been seared. Maybe this was a bad idea, asking someone my body reacted so strongly to for a fake relationship.

She reached the table, picking up the wine and downing the glass. My eyebrows rose, and I set the crackers and ginger ale on the table. She clearly didn’t need it anymore.

I opened my mouth to take back my offer just as she said, “I’ll do it.” If I wasn’t standing across the table from her, I’d try and get a closer look, see if she wasn’t joking. Or already feeling the effects of the wine.

But Mia was deadly serious as she leveled her gaze at me. “I’ll be your fake girlfriend.”

“Wow, Mia, that’s um...”

She was all business as she cut through the fluff. “In an arrangement like this, we’ll need some clear boundaries and a plan of action. Can you bring me my purse? I’ll get out a notebook to write it all down.”

Now I understood completely how this woman controlled boardrooms and ran a billion-dollar company. She was intimidating, powerful... and incredibly sexy when she took charge like this. I turned on my heel, no longer Ford, but a player in her game.

I went to the hall closet, retrieving her surprisingly heavy purse, and brought it back to her. She opened the cream-colored leather and retrieved a simple notebook and pen.

“We need to create SMART goals.” She wrote SMART alongside the paper. “Specific, measurable, achievable, relevant, and?—”

“Timebound,” I finished.

She looked at me, surprised.

“I know I’m a jock, but I paid attention in my college business class,” I teased.

She gave me an apologetic smile that made my stomach all soft. So I focused on the paper. “Specific would be start a fake relationship that appears real to everyone else.”

She nodded. “Measurable. For me, it would mean acquiring the Andersen sisters. For you, getting out of dating...”

“Felicity,” I finished for her.

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