Page 10 of Love is Fake

“It’s getting late, I’m sure you’ll want to be heading back.” Declan gives me the politest ‘get the hell out of here’ I’ve ever received, and I wonder if ‘PR-mode’ is second nature to him. “I’ll walk you out.”

I nod my thanks because there’s no way in hell I’d be able to find my own way out of this mansion. I’d probably wander the halls for days until my skeleton was found by one of the (many) maids who I’m sure work here.

We’re silent as Declan leads me to the front door and – for once – I don’t try to fill the awkwardness. He seems to belost in his own thoughts, anyway. Probably wondering how he’s going to manage to persuade his client to take on a woman he ostensibly can’t stand the sight of.

“Good to meet you,Isabella,” Declan jokes with emphasis, motioning me through the door. “I’ll give your boss a call when we have this all straightened out.”

I wave my goodbye as I try not to trip down the stairs towards my car, the thick ring binder weighing me down.

“You’re drivingthatback to the city?” Lennox appears out of nowhere next to me, making me jump out of my skin. And his voice… he’s injected just enough derision in it to make me grind my teeth. Entitled asshole.

Breathe, Izzy, breathe. You’re not allowed to punch clients in the face no matter how tempting it might be.

I hold one hand to my chest, closing my eyes for a moment and recovering from him scaring the crap out of me.

“It’s the only car I have, so…yeah.” I don’t bother to look at him as I march up to my half-dead tin can, but he’s in between me and the car in a matter of seconds. It makes me wonder how a big guy can move so fast. He barely has a limp, but when I look up into his face I see a sheen of perspiration on his forehead, as if it’s an effort to move the way he has been.

“Where are your crutches?” I frown up at him.

He makes a dismissive gesture with one hand and I struggle not to roll my eyes. Damn alpha males. Pro athletes are the worst – they think they’re indestructible and that the rules of normal human physiology don’t apply to them. By the way Lennox operates, I know that he’s not going to be the one to break the mold.

“The more weight you put on your knee, the longer it’s going to take to fully heal.” I haven’t even looked at his file yet and I know that much. “I’m guessing I’m not the first person to mention that to you?”

“You’re not driving that.” Lennox nods towards my sad little rental as if I haven’t even spoken. He’s really good at ignoring me and it’s irritating as all get-out. “It’s as likely to break down on the side of the road before you make it half-way as it is to burst into flames before you’ve even driven it off the property.”

“You know cars don’t really do that outside of the movies, right?” I lift an eyebrow at him. Years of working in my father’s auto shop have robbed me of the illusion that cars just spontaneously combust as a matter of course. It was one of my dad’s bug-bears about action movies. He would harp on about it to anyone willing to listen – ‘anyone’ would usually be me.

Lennox levels me with a look that speaks volumes, all but asking if I think he’s an idiot. “Thanks for the completely unnecessary physics lesson. My point is, it’s not safe for you to drive,” he insists.

And whose fault is that?I think ungraciously. If he didn’t drive such a monstrosity of a truck, it wouldn’t have turned my bonnet into a damn accordion.

“Well I sure as hell am not getting an Uber from here to Manhattan, and last time I checked, you weren’t the boss of me, so…” I hold my keys up and shake them perilously close to his face, motioning for him to move so I can open the door. He’s already too close to me and the idea of coming into closer quarters to reach around him for the door makes me warm in all the wrong places, which just makes me even more frustrated with myself.

How the hell am I going to have this man laid out on a couch and do my damn job if my inner sixteen year old is melting at the thought of actuallytouchingLennox Gray even after the supreme levels of ass-hat-ness he’s shown?

Woman up, Izzy. You’re a professional.

“Pretty sure you signing that NDA makes me your boss, so…” Lennox holds his hands out palm up, watching me expectantly.

“You’re my clientnotmy boss,” I clarify although we’re into semantics now. As long as I’m working with him, I’m essentially workingforhim, but that doesn’t mean I have to do whatever he says.

How the hell does he already know I signed the NDA anyway?

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Lennox shrugs, making his huge shoulders roll and I catch myself thinking how much he’s filled out since high school. “Now, are you going to give me your keys or am I going to have to take them from you?”

He raises a perfectly arched eyebrow and there’s a flash of something dark in his eyes. It makes me think he’d very much enjoy prying the keys from my grasp and I tell myself that I’m not at all affected by the intensity of his look.

A noise of frustration escapes me. It’s already been a long as hell day and I still have a two hour drive back to the city.

“Why do you even care if I break down on the way home?” I don’t add the fact that he hasn’t shown the least bit of interest in me as an actual person in either of our encounters today. I figure he’s a smart guy, he can figure that part out for himself.

“I’d be concerned if any of mystaffare left stranded, especially when I know how spotty cell reception is on that road.” He stares me down as if it’s some kind of contest I hadn’t realized I’d entered, and I tell myself I’m not at all intimidated.

I shift a little on my feet. He’s right about the cell reception. I’ve discovered that much on my way here. If I break down, calling a tow truck would be a matter of luck and I could find myself waiting for hours. Still, him calling mestaffirks more than a little, which no doubt had been his intention.

I flick a stray curl out of my eyes in annoyance. “You don’t want me to use the car I came here in, so what are you suggesting Mr. Gray?”

“Like I said, it’s just Lennox.” I’m fairly certain I’m not imagining the way his teeth grind. It makes me feel inordinately pleased with myself for pissing him off just as much as he does me.

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